“Because it’s a mutation.”
“Of what?”
She opened her mouth, but she couldn’t think of anything. She’d looked at the virus’s structure but not that closely. She’d been more focused on how it was replicating, not its origins. “The Elixir causes it.”
“It causes the mutation,” Lucien said. “Unlocks it. But where did the virus originate?”
“There are no new viruses,” Makeda said. “There are variations of older viruses or those that have lain dormant or those we haven’t discovered yet.”
“But we did stumble across it, Makeda. My mother and her friends unlocked it hundreds of years ago.”
“And they eradicated it when Kato went mad,” she said. “You’ve told me this story before. It was rediscovered in the early part of this century by a vampire bent on world domination. Or destruction, depending on who you ask. And it’s been spreading since.”
“To every vampire it touches. Every human. No matter their genetics or geography.”
“So?” Makeda frowned. “Lucien, you have to know that we’re all genetically similar. Markers of race or ethnicity aren’t biological. They’re a construct. Even vampires and humans are basically the same.”
“Except for my mother.”
Makeda blinked. “Excuse me?”
“The virus has affected everyone it touches except my mother. I took a sample of her blood when I took Kato’s. Come look.” Lucien’s fangs had dropped in his excitement, and one clipped his lower lip.
The scent of blood distracted Makeda, but she managed to rein in her instincts. She walked over to Lucien’s workstation and looked at the printout he handed her. “What am I looking at?”
“A reading of Kato’s viral load.”
“It’s a lot lower than I expected,” she said. “If this were a cancer, I’d say he was in remission. I was talking to him the other night, and it sounds like—”
“Not important.” Lucien shoved another paper under her nose. “This is Saba’s.”
Makeda tried to make sense of what she was seeing. “She… Her blood—”
“Is nearly the same as Kato’s, which makes sense.” He scowled. “Because they’ve been exchanging blood.”
“What?”
“Oh yes. She told me last night when I confronted her.”
“But does she have the virus now? Lucien, how could she—”
“No.” He tapped the paper. “Look again.”
She sorted through the numbers, wondering where he’d had the blood analyzed. Their lab was too small for the equipment needed, and Makeda didn’t even know if she’d be able to use most of it with the way she reacted to electricity these days.
She was getting sidetracked.
“Look at her antibody count,” Lucien said.
“This doesn’t make sense.” Saba’s blood didn’t show any of the markers they’d come to expect from Elixir patients. In fact…
“She’s immune?”
“She’s immune.”
“How? Are you…?” Makeda looked at the numbers again, but Lucien was right. Saba was producing antibodies that were fighting off the Elixir virus. And if Saba had immunity to something that could infect even Kato…
“It’s a retrovirus,” Makeda said.
“It’s probably been around for millennia, and she must have been exposed when she was human,” Lucien said. “Or very near when she became a vampire. She’s the oldest of us. If she had exposure to this virus when she was human, her system fought it off and she’s carried the immunity with her. She might be the only one alive who has it.”
“She’s the key.” She frowned. “So why didn’t her blood cure Kato when he was first infected? You told me they’d tried—”
“How could it? They never touched his marrow. They treated the symptom, but not the source.” Lucien smiled. “You were right. It all goes back to the source. And with vampires, Saba is the source.”
“So if we’re going to truly cure this virus—cure it and not just treat the symptoms—we need Saba’s help.”
“For patients whose sires are alive,” Lucien said, “exsanguination followed by new blood works. We don’t know exactly how, but it works.”
“But for those without a living sire, a transplant from Saba—”
“Going all the way to the marrow,” Lucien said. “Essentially remaking them as immortals. They would be her children. They would be connected to her amnis. Her element.”
“Not all of them will be happy about that.”
“No.” He took a deep breath. “We have to accept that some will prefer death to losing their elemental identity.”
Makeda said, “We have to give them the option, Lucien.”
“You’re forgetting one very big thing.” He grimaced. “For this to work, we also have to convince my mother.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lucien tapped a pencil on the desk in Gedeyon’s home as he wrapped up the video conference with Brenden McTierney. The desk was intricately carved with crosses and other ecumenical symbols typical of the area around Lalibela, where his brother had spent his human years.
He wanted to take Makeda to Lalibela. And Gondar. Axum. Did Hirut still keep in touch with her family near Awassa?
McTierney was going on and on. The man was gentle as a lamb with patients, but with his peers… “Your Dr. Abel has got to understand that taking time to write up the kind of reports she wants is going to require hours that our team could be spending on—”
“If it’s just a matter of manpower, why don’t I send one of our colleagues from California to you, Brenden?” Lucien asked. “In fact, Ruben worked with Dr. Abel for months and will understand what level of detail she’ll want in order to monitor the trials from a distance. Why don’t I arrange for him to assist you during the next few months?”
“I’m insulted you think I need one of your people looking over my shoulder,” the Irishman clipped out. “I thought we had more respect between us, Lucien.”
“This isn’t a matter of respect.” Lucien soothed the irritated physician. “Or a matter of questioning your competency.”
“Trust me, with Makeda Abel, it was definitely a matter of questioning my competency. The woman asked me to mail her a copy of my CV and my most recently published study! Does she think working with Elixir patients lends itself to publishing in damn medical journals? Who does she think she is?”
“She’s young, Brenden.” Lucien managed to hold in the smile that wanted to erupt. Makeda was arrogant, but damn it, she had reason to be. “She was turned five weeks ago, and she’s stuck in isolation right now. She’s doing remarkably well during her transition, so please cut her a little slack. If time weren’t such an issue with this, she’d never have allowed anyone—including me—to run this trial without her.”
“Jaysus, Lucien.” McTierney looked suitably shocked. “She didn’t lose her composure the entire time we were arguing. I didn’t even realize she was vampire.” The Irishman’s cheeks went a bit red. “I’ll admit, I thought she was one of your…”
Lucien paused long enough to make the human squirm. “One of my assistants?”
“That’s generally what you call them.” McTierney shrugged. “Come on, you do have a reputation. I’ve never heard of your collaborating with a peer before.”
And that was just a bit pathetic, wasn’t it? Lucien was getting slapped in the face with his own past more and more these days. First it was his mother thanking him for finally bringing someone home who could carry on a conversation. Then it was Kato blithely mentioning that Lucien was finally growing up. Gedeyon’s gentle ribbing and Hirut’s quiet surprise every time Makeda cracked a joke with her sharp, dry humor.
“Makeda is… special. She is under my aegis, McTierney, so tread carefully. She has powerful friends. Added to the obvious fact that she’s extremely bright. Makeda is the one who initially came up with the idea to treat the Elixir by treating bone marrow, so you understand why she’s feeling pro
tective of the trial.”
“I already have four human volunteers and two vampires,” McTierney said. “They’re ready and waiting as soon as you and Dr. Abel finalize the protocol. Any word yet?”
The biggest holdup was on his end, and Lucien grimaced when he thought about what he had yet to do. He’d been cagey with McTierney so far, and that didn’t engender confidence from the other man, who would be effectively turning over his own patients to Lucien and Makeda’s experimental treatment.
“As soon as I have a donor identified for the immortal patients, I’ll let you know. The humans—”
“Are already starting on a course of chemotherapy. Radiation will follow that. Stem cell donors have been identified for all four. Are you sure you want to proceed with the HSCT?”
“You’ve explained the risks?”
“Yes.”
“Then I say that’s our best option. Time is against us on this.” Hematopoietic stem cell transplantation was risky, but it was also the best option for rebuilding the humans’ immune systems from the inside out. “Especially if we’re catching patients in the early stages of Elixir infection when they’re still in their first bloom of health. Dr. Abel pointed out that the initial upswing could carry them through the worst of the chemo and radiation, allowing their systems to bounce back stronger with the new stem cells.”
“I agree.” McTierney paused. “Ioan would have loved this. Seeing you collaborating with a partner.”
The corner of Lucien’s mouth turned up. “He would have loved taking the piss out of me.” Ioan had often teased Lucien about finding a nice immortal instead of his serial monogamy with humans.
“It’s not that,” McTierney said. “Working with Julia has been one of the singular privileges of my personal and professional life, Lucien.” Julia was McTierney’s wife and partner in their medical practice. “There’s something special about sharing a professional passion with the person you love.”
“Calm down, Brenden,” Lucien said. “We’re colleagues.”
“Of course you are.” The doctor smiled. “Let me know when we’re ready to go. We need that immortal donor, Lucien. None of these patients has a living sire. If they did, they wouldn’t be with me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
He used a pencil to push the End button on the laptop. Makeda had been regaling Gedeyon with tales of the Nocht system she’d beta tested, and his brother was almost falling over in excitement. Gedeyon loved gadgets and new technology, but he was stuck with the human variety until he could order equipment from Ireland.
Hirut tapped on the door. “Lucien, are you finished?”
“I am.” He pushed away from the desk. “Did your assistant need to get in here?”
Hirut’s human was a young woman who looked to be university age. She was the one who maintained the satellite link and computer equipment in Gedeyon’s small office.
“She’s fine, but I was wondering if you wanted to take Makeda’s blood to her.”
“I will.” He glanced at the clock. He’d not realized how close it was to dawn.
Most of Makeda’s nights were taken up with training now that there was little they could add to the trials until they were truly under way.
Just the donor. He still had to approach his mother. And yes, he was putting it off for as long as possible. Though they would need to test her blood for compatibility, Makeda theorized that Saba was the vampire equivalent to mitochondrial Eve for humans. It was likely most, if not all, vampires could accept her blood and stem cells.
But would she be willing?
Saba had stopped siring children soon after Lucien had turned. She had hundreds, if not thousands, of vampires in her extended clan, but for direct descendants, there were few still living. How would she feel about possibly siring more?
Because though they wouldn’t take her bite, any immortal treated with Saba’s stem cells would effectively become her child. On that, Lucien and Makeda both agreed. Whatever line they came from would be broken. Whatever element they controlled would be dead to them. They would be born anew into Saba’s blood, and he wasn’t sure if his mother would be willing, not to mention the victims.
If she wasn’t, then any hope for vampire Elixir patients without living sires was dead.
❖
He wandered around the island, searching for Makeda. Tana Genet was tiny, and he knew she must be going stir-crazy, but he was trying to keep her safe for as long as possible. He wasn’t sure what Saba was plotting, but Lucien guessed she’d pull him into it some way or another.
“Makeda?” He turned when he scented her. She was on the water, perched on the smooth stone where she and Kato often practiced, looking at the horizon, which had begun to lighten. He stripped off his shirt before he dove into the water and pushed through the murky shallows until he reached her. Lucien surfaced and climbed onto the rock. “Makeda, you need to get inside.”
She said nothing, and her face was wrecked with sorrow. Bone-twisting grief was painted on her face.
“Makeda?” A needle of fear worked itself into his heart. “What are you doing?”
“The trial protocol is in place,” she murmured.
“So?”
“You know who the donor is,” Makeda said. “You just have to talk to her, Lucien.”
Her voice was cold. Dead.
“Makeda, you need to get inside now.”
Her hair curled around her in wild abandon. She’d been sitting on the rock long enough that it was nearly dry. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t look at the glassy stillness of the lake or the birds flying over the water or the fishermen in the distance, rowing their reed boats out to the middle of the lake.
She was staring at the horizon, watching the sky grow lighter.
“Makeda, get inside,” he whispered.
“Just a little longer.”
Lucien was afraid to touch her. “Makeda, please.”
She finally looked at him, and her eyes made his heart scream. Her anger sliced through the last of his armor. Her eyes convicted him.
“You don’t need me anymore,” she said carefully. “There is nothing I can offer this study that you cannot do yourself.”
Understanding threatened like the dawn. “Please don’t do this.”
“There is nothing more you need from me, Lucien.”
“Makeda—”
“I have served the purpose for which you turned me.”
He tried to keep his heart steady, but he couldn’t. “You know that’s not why I did it.”
“Then why?” she screamed, leaping to her feet. “Tell me why! Why will I never see the sun again? Why will I never have a child? Why will my sisters die before me? My nieces. My nephews. Why will I watch everyone I love leave me behind? I had a life, Lucien! I had a family. I may have been an amusement to you, but I had a life. And you took it away. Took my life. My choice to die. You took everything when I was nothing more than a mind you needed!”
“That’s not true!” He rose to his feet. “Makeda, please come inside. Let’s talk about this.”
“You don’t need me anymore.”
“You know that’s not true.” He clenched his hands into fists to keep from grabbing her.
She was right. He’d taken the choice from her at the beginning of this. He could not take it from her again.
“Makeda…” He lost the fight against his instincts and reached for her, wrapping her in his arms. “I’m sorry.”
The cry wrenched from her throat undid him.
“I’m sorry,” he said it again. “I’m sorry, Makeda. I’m so sorry.” He clenched her tighter when her shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t see you die. I couldn’t.” Don’t make me watch you die. He could feel the dawn coming, but she wasn’t falling asleep. Damn stubborn woman. “Makeda, please come inside.”
She didn’t say anything. Her sobs were grieving, angry cries that tore at him, shredding his control. He gripped her tighter and stepped toward the edge of the rock.
“Please,” he whispered again. “Don’t do this to me, yene konjo. I don’t want to face the night without you.”
She didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no. Her body collapsed into his, and Lucien took it as permission, gripping her tightly as he dove into the water and headed toward the shore. When he reached it, he picked her up and walked straight to the shelter of the tukul, slamming the door just as the sun rose over the mountains in the distance.
He set Makeda on the edge of the bed and reached for the pitcher of blood. She was limp in his arms, like a child fighting to stay awake. A child who had cried too much and worn herself out.
“Open,” he said. “Drink it all.”
For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t comply. Then she opened her mouth and Lucien practically poured the blood down her throat. A thread of it dripped from the corner of her mouth, and he leaned over, licking it up before he placed a gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth.
When the blood was gone, her expression hadn’t changed. If anything, her eyes were even more remote. They glassed over, unable to focus as exhaustion took her. Before she fell asleep, he helped her out of her clothes and pulled one of his own shirts over her head, wrapping her in his scent. Then he covered her with a sheet and crouched back on his heels, staring at her as she closed her eyes.
Her body relaxed completely.
Her breath stopped.
And soon there was nothing but the quiet hum of her amnis and the scent of the woman who had somehow come to mean more to him than his own life. The realization hit him like a hammer between his eyes. He sat on the ground and put his head between his knees.
It had been coming for weeks. Months even. Perhaps it had been as inevitable as their first argument.
Lucien stared at Makeda, whose body had gone limp with the sleep of the newly blooded.
He would have stayed with her.
He would have held her as the dawn broke and they both burned.