As she sags against me, I wrap my arms around her and hold on tight.
“I’m sorry, Milla, but we need to check your blood one last time.” Reeve approaches, empty syringe in hand.
Milla nods and I continue to hold her, unwilling to let go. I need her comfort as much as I need to give comfort back to her.
Reeve sticks her, fills the belly of the syringe. A few minutes pass as Weber readies the specimen and exams it under a microscope. I know it’s bad news before the guy even speaks. I can see the disappointment shining from his face.
“Milla’s right,” he says. “The red fire has already contaminated the blood we cleansed. In fact, I can see the essence of the red flames in her cells, feeding off everything it encounters. This virus—or whatever it is—used the serum as a power source. And she’s right. If she lights up now, thánatos could feed off her, too.”
A tremor shakes her, but she remains quiet.
Enough of this. I lift her. “Let’s get you to bed. When you wake up, I’ll make sure pizza is waiting for you rather than some lame sandwich.” I resort to humor because, if I don’t, I’ll rage.
She softens and curls against me, conforming to the hard planes of my body. “Frosty?” she whispers, and my hands clench on her.
“Yes.” I climb the steps, careful not to jostle her.
“Do you believe we’ll beat Rebecca this time? Once and for all?”
“I do. We’ll do whatever proves necessary.”
“Yes. Yes, we will,” she says, and there’s a note of finality in her tone I don’t like. “Whatever proves necessary.”
*
I expect Milla to want to rest. I should have known better. The moment I place her on the bed, she sits up and says, “You guys lost dynamis, and I need to know if I lost it, too, or if it’s still simmering inside me, just covered, covered, covered up by the red flames.”
“You heard Weber. Those red flames could hurt you now.”
“They’re hurting me anyway.”
A muscle ticks below my eye. “And just how are you going to tell if your dynamis is covered by thánatos?”
“By looking with my spiritual eye, where the fire—fires—burn.” She turns away from me. “I’m doing this with or without your approval.”
Stubborn girl.
“Fine.” But I’ll be watching her. I’ll step in if I detect the barest hint of unease.
I remain by the bed, on high alert as one hour bleeds into another. Milla hasn’t moved from the bed. She’s oddly relaxed, as if she’s meditating.
I’m due in the gym in ten minutes. If I’m going to use the sedative on her, there’s no better time. She’s distracted.
I palm the syringe.
“You’re making a big mistake.” Kat appears at my side.
For the most part, she’s stuck to her once-a-day visitation schedule, but there are times she’s granted permission to pop in whenever she wants. I’ve found those are the days she’s on a rampage about something.
“I’ve made a mistake before, kitten. The time I thought I’d made a mistake.” I whisper, hoping Milla remains in her calm, unaware state. “What are you doing here?”
“Good news. I received permission to fix this particular mistake.”
Milla opens her eyes.
Damn it!
“Mistake?” she asks.
“That’s right.” Kat anchors her hands on her hips. “Zombies will be on the loose tonight, but Frosty Dearest is planning to fight them without you.”
“Zombies?” Milla throws her legs over the side of the bed and stands. She grabs her swords from inside our shared weapons case and straps them to her back. “I’m going with. Don’t argue.”
“What about checking for dynamis?” I say through gritted teeth.
“Well, well. Someone certainly changed his tune.” She flips her hair over her shoulder. “I didn’t see it, but I’ll continue my internal scan later.”
I glare at Kat. “Thanks for nothing.”
She blows me a kiss. “Also, Milla, he has a sedative in his pocket, and he plans to use it on you.” Her smile is pure evil. “I do whatever’s necessary, too.” With that, she vanishes, there one moment, gone the next.
“You what?” Milla reaches a hand into my pocket, yanks out the syringe and has the needle uncapped and positioned at my neck before I realize her intent. “Do you really want to travel this road?”
“A weak partner can get a stronger partner killed.”
“I’m not weak. I’m ready. And when did we become partners?”
“Today.” And partners do not sabotage each other. I glare at her. “Fine. I’m sorry. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”
Her features soften, but only slightly. She recaps the syringe and tosses it into the trash. “I can’t make any promises.” She pops a clip in her .44. “But I’ll survive. I always do.”
Good enough for now, I suppose. I tweak the end of her nose. “You’re a brat, you know that, right?”
“Yeah, but you’re brattier.”
This is true.
We head to the gym, and though we’re right on time, we’re the last to arrive. Cole’s in the middle of a speech.