Page 70 of The Cannibal

“I thought you’d appreciate some temporary relief,” I said.

“If you are suggesting temporary brain damage . . .” His brows furrowed, eyes opening blankly. “Actually, that sounds nice.” He sat up, staring at the treat. A bowl of cherries, injected with cyanide. There wasn’t much of a flavor to hide, but they served as decent vessels.

“Keep it in moderation,” I warned. “There’s only a little in each. But your metabolism should handle it just fine. We don’t need you chronically exposed. Do you think that would affect your regenerative abilities?”

“Tell me what you really want before it kicks in.” He plucked one, chewing around the pit before tucking it in his cheek. “You’ll have to wait at least a few hours if not.”

“I want to talk about Silas.”

“Talk to him yourself.” He ate another.

“He’s not right.”

“Did you figure that out on your own, Dorogaya?” He laughed. “To be fair, I don’t think he ever was well, even before you.”

“Do you know something I don’t?” I clasped my hands over my knee impatiently.

“Many-a-things,” he replied sarcastically, then checked his watch. “Better get specific soon.”

“He’s neurotic.”

“Look,” he paused his snacking to prop his elbow on the desk, chin in his hand, “if you want to go study your husband, then go do it. You have an entire lab to do so.”

I took a deep breath, my mind racing with questions. But there was one I knew Silas wouldn’t answer honestly.

“What happened after?” I asked. “After everything went black, after Edith hit the ground with me?”

Luka straightened his posture, leaning back against the chair. If the headache didn’t daze him, my question surely did.

“Her death was instant.” He tipped his head to the side, his eyes glossing over. “Silas didn’t know what he was looking at, at first. For all his faults—impulsive, vulgar, spoiled—there’s something beating in there. A heart, yes. But I suspect there is a reason for his desperation. We couldn’t move him for hours. We thought you were gone, but he knew you weren’t.”

I swallowed thickly as Luka spoke. It seemed even recounting troubled him just as much as it did me.

“It took him hours to tell us. We couldn’t make him move. When we tried to take you away, I swore he was ready to bite our hands whenever we neared.” Luka closed his eyes again, nodding slowly. “We couldn’t tell if he was in denial or not. But he insisted you were turning. Neither of us was aware that he envenomated you in the hours leading up to the incident until he began to spiral about his oversight.” He opened his eyes to look at me, so much pity for such gentle brown eyes. “Make no mistake. He would have killed himself if you did not wake up. But since then, the only thing keeping him alive was the idea that someday you would wake.”

“Did you think I would wake?”

“With your luck? I had a feeling it may not be your time, but you certainly took your time,” he said, making a light attempt at a joke. “Something is different about you, Dorogaya.”

“The best things are heavy on the heart.” I smiled.

“No, we aren’t doing that. Go.” He pushed me off the desk, as if to flee any such softness before I noticed. “Find something else to do.”

“Enjoy the cherries.” I waved dismissively before heading toward the door. But something made me pause. I looked back at the Fixer, his eyes lowered on the plate. The small upturn of his lip as he ate another. The same far-off look I saw on him during Christmas.

Oh, how it warms the heart to see evil men melt.

“Just a bit more,” I said, watching the apparatus fill to the etched line.

Phoebe nodded, a faint whimper as she stared straight up to the ceiling.

“For someone who has to draw blood to eat, you sure are squeamish.” I put pressure on the needle with a cloth as I drew it out of the crook of her arm.

“It’s different.” Her hand replaced mine on her arm and she finally looked down.

I had some ideas for tests. The best initial observation study would be to compare to other Vipera. Today, I would collect blood from myself and whoever else would volunteer.

“What happened there?” I pointed my chin at her hand as I replaced the needle and tube for the next subject’s blood draw. Four pink dots over pale skin, a bit red around the edges.