Page 171 of Interion

Ambrose settled into his chair, calmer this time. The explanation didn’t convince me one bit. What I saw wasn’t a coincidence—I felt that thing in the hallway was after me. But I wouldn’t raise any more alarms. After all, we had the morphine problem to deal with, and if it wasn’t me, it could only be one person. The thought flooded me with overwhelming sadness. If it really was Adele, then my suspicions were true, and I needed to talk to her immediately.

“Has Adele arrived at the hospital yet?” I asked anxiously.

“Selene is talking to her. The hospital administration requested toxicology tests for both of you. They want to rule out any morphine dependency, so we’ll take you both to the lab right now.”

He looked at his wristwatch.

“In fact, it’s time. Shall we?”

Ambrose stood up and I followed him out the door. We walked in silence through the crowded hallways. The vibrio outbreak had passed, and the hospital had returned to its usual cacophony of sounds, patients, murmurs, and the smell of cleaning products. When we arrived at the laboratory, Selene and Adele were already seated, waiting for us. I could see the shock on Ambrose’s face when he noticed Adele’s dark circles. They looked worse than the day before—her skin was so pale it had turned grayish in the archemical light.

The elmedic was holding a phone to her ear, apparently arguing with whoever was on the other end, gesticulating as if deeply frustrated. Adele looked like a corpse beside her, growing paler by the minute.

“Do whatever you want, Mr. Ivanov. Good afternoon.” The elmedic hung up with a huff and sat down stiffly beside Adele.

We sat in silence while a nurse came to draw blood. I tried desperately not to stare at Adele, but it was impossible. Her hair was neatly brushed and held back by shiny clips, her impeccable nails painted blood red, and her black clothes, as always, were perfectly pressed—but her eyes looked glassy.

There was no makeup to hide that kind of pain.

Δ

“They didn’t find anything—not in your blood or Adele’s. Well, in Adele’s they found other substances, like alcohol and green herb, but everything was within legal limits,” Ambrose said two hours later.

He’d been called in by his superiors and was now filling me in. Based on the report, I didn’t know whether to feel tense or relieved, because if they hadn’t found anything in Adele’s blood, it meant two things: first, this didn’t eliminate me as a suspect, and second, if Adele wasn’t dependent on morphine, she could only have stolen the vials for something bigger.

Morphine is a potent analgesic, but in high doses it can also sedate. Normally we used one vial to medicate up to ten patients with phantom pain during post-op. An entire vial injected into the bloodstream would be enough to anesthetize a feeric’s body, but it’s a conscious sedation—the person still has awareness and can move, despite not feeling anything. Two vials could send the body into shock, causing cardiac arrest and respiratory collapse.

“And what’s going to happen now?” I asked anxiously.

I didn’t want to tell Ambrose what I knew about Adele—it felt wrong to share something so personal—but I was running out of options.

“Orders are for both of you to stay away from the hospital until the psychic examination. It was supposed to happen today, but Adele’s uncle filed an injunction.”

“What? What do you mean? I won’t be able to do my internship?” I jumped up and stood in front of his desk. “This isn’t right, Ambrose. I didn’t do anything.”

“You don’t need to make such a fuss, Kay. You’ll only be away until tomorrow. They’re calling in a criminal psychic to handle this. Her uncle just delayed the process, but tomorrow at lunch the specialist will probe both your minds and everything will be cleared up. If it wasn’t you, we already know who it was, don’t we?”

I froze.

“The psychic is going to probe our minds?” I asked, my legs already turning to jelly.

“Yes,” Ambrose said, unconcerned, with the tired look of someone who just wanted this to be over. “But it’s quick and painless. He’ll just look at your memories from Saturday.”

That was it. I was neck-deep in shit. There were dangerous thoughts, Zion’s secrets, and information that could never fall into the wrong hands. When Ivanov had entered my mind, I hadn’t known what Zion did outside the walls, but now my mind was dangerous. And to make matters worse, there was still Serguei’s barrier. Of course it would look suspicious if the psychic tried to enter and ran into that protection.

“Kyller?” Ambrose called out, and I looked at him in surprise. “Is everything okay?”

I pulled myself together and grabbed my bag from the armchair.

“Everything's fine, Am. I'm just worried about this whole situation. What's going to happen to Adele when they find out she's the one who stole the vials?” I tried to steer my thoughts away from the problem. As soon as I left that room, I'd call Zion to see what could be done.

“There are three possible punishments. She can be expelled, sent to serve as a temporary donor for the gorgons, or she can avoid both if she has enough money and influence to pay the fine.” He shrugged. “Knowing Adele, she'll probably just pay the fine, like she did last time with the director.”

“What a mess.” I ran my hand across my forehead, feeling helpless.

“Are you worried about Adele? I noticed she wasn't doing well today either. I thought it might be a morphine addiction, but now that they haven't found anything, I'm worried too.”

I blinked a few times, trying to think of a half-truth, but he looked at me like he already knew me too well, so I gave up trying to lie.