Chapter 128

Mira

When I woke up, I was alone in the room.

I knew immediately that Lucian was gone, and my first instinct was fear. Then I relaxed and was almost grateful that he hadn’t waited to say goodbye. He must’ve been embarrassed by his admission last night, and I couldn’t blame him for fleeing my presence.

We had made plans to keep in touch, no matter what, so I expected after cooling off for a few days he would call me. He and Rae were my two contacts in the outside world, a thought that was both comforting and disconcerting at the same time.

I stayed in bed for a bit, staring at the thin crack in the curtains and the bit of morning light slicing through it. The world outside this building was still a mystery to me, and exploring the grounds was on my list of priorities. An activity I would have to do carefully, lest Malachi’s cronies think I am looking for the exit.

My sense-memory was strong enough to get me to the dining room, the smell of coffee and hot breakfast wafting down the hallway helped guide me around the final turn. The room was empty of living beings, except for a few plants in the windows.

A place was set for me, however, and a side table was covered with various dishes ranging from eggs to pastries to yogurt and fruit. I was somehow starving, but had a feeling I shouldn’t overindulge. Some movie scene played in my head in which I was slowly being fattened up for slaughter.

I shook the vision aside and filled my plate with a healthy amount of protein and fruit. There was an espresso machine as well as a pour-over coffee set, and I had to remind myself that this was not a hotel. This was work, a mission, or potentially my very own living nightmare.

“I see you found yourself some sustenance.”

Malachi’s voice pierced through the silence of the empty room as he entered from the side door that led to the kitchens.

Had he been in there the whole time?

“You seem to have over-prepared, unless you are expecting more guests,” I said, eyeing the abundance of the buffet. “Seems like a lot could go to waste.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, swiping his hand in the air in front of him. “There are others who will eat, and it all gets passed down. Sustainability is important to us.”

Something about his phrasing made me uncomfortable but I couldn’t quite place what it was.

“Do you run some kind of soup kitchen, a charity?” I didn’t hide the skepticism in my voice. He needed to know that I would question everything. “Are there orphans around who need a warm meal?”

This last question was a direct probe of his operation, but my tone was playful enough to be tossed away as a snarky remark. I tried to lean into the generational gap between us, letting him think that I might have the fault of youthful arrogance that he could manipulate.

“I am in the business of helping those in need,” he said tactfully. “Whether that be with a meal or with medicine, or whatever resources I may have that I can share. I think you’ll see I am quite altruistic, Mira, when I want to be.”

The last bit sounded like a threat.

“That’s very noble of you,” I said, sounding sincere, “especially given the wealth you’ve clearly amassed. Some would just hoard their earnings, as if entitled to it. We should all be giving back whatever excess we can spare.”

“Precisely, my dear,” he said, lighting up.

My body itched whenever he used that kind of pet name, like he was some weird uncle teaching me to fish.

“So,” I said, pushing my plate away from me. “When do you get to see what you’re doing?”

Malachi’s smiled broadened.

He looked towards the kitchen, and without a word a young man came through the door and cleared my plate for me. No one said anything until he was gone.

“We can go now,” Malachi said, rising, “if you’re up for it.”

I followed him around the first floor as he showed me the general layout of the largest building. One third of it had become residential, the rest still used for research and development.

“When we were able to expand on the property, we moved our patient facilities outside of the Main House,” Malachi explained. He liked using that term for the big central building, as if he were at summer camp. “It was easier for our staff to separate work from regular life. You can imagine it is tough when you have to live where you work.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by ‘have to,’ but guessed it just meant that commuting out here was a drag. Strange how much I noticed my brain choosing the lighter option in the face of these oddities around me.

“How many patients do you normally see?”

My questioning was clinical. I was pretending this was a job interview, and if I didn’t jive with the company atmosphere I could walk away and apply elsewhere. Of course, that was not the case.

“We keep our numbers small, for logistics mostly,” he said. “As much as any scientist would love one large trial of volunteers, we simply cannot take on that kind of mass administration of our treatments. So we chip away at the problem, bit by bit.”

“And they live here?”

“Hm?”

“The patients.”

“Oh, well yes sort of,” his voice became feathery and shy when I asked him direct questions he was trying to avoid. “We offer simple housing options during treatments, though of course that is up to the individual. Accessibility is important to us.”

Another catchphrase. Pretty soon he would offer me a glass of the company kool-aid, and my decision would have to be made.

He brought me into a lab, offering me a mask and gloves. A clean and organized set up of machines for testing blood and measuring out medications, and a healthy supply of liquids and salves and distillates of drugs most rural hospitals would dream of acquiring.

On one shelf, I recognized a box of clean syringes with the logo of the traveling medical team. Evidence enough to prove that these Rogues, under Malachi, were behind the attacks.

“I know it’s overwhelming,” he said beside me. “And seems unbelievable. But we are finding a way to connect the electromagnetic fields and the physiological processes of Fated Mates. A complicated cocktail of what feels like divine magic.”

He chuckled and it made me cringe.

“Sometimes, I feel like I am creating a new generation of gods.”

I tried not to look sick.

“Fascinating,” I said, trying to swallow the dryness in my throat. “And where do I come in?”

“Ah yes, my treasured herbalist and healer,” he said, his eyes roaming over my face. “You have an ability to soothe and alleviate even the most curious of ailments, don’t you? I’ve seen your work, studied your recipes, watched your demeanor. Speaking of gifts from the gods…”

I felt heat in my cheeks, but stood my ground and kept my gaze steady.

“I need your help, simply put,” he said with a casual shrug. “I need to balance out the effects of my experiments by bringing my patients back down from the exalted place they may reach. And I’d like to do so with natural remedies so as not to counteract my work.”

He wanted me to fix the people he was damaging.

I nodded slowly, as if weighing the offer. I would have to do it, but at least in that way I could actually do some good for whomever he might bring into this place for testing.

“It’s about marketability,” Malachi continued as I was thinking, going back to business. “I need subjects who improve physically, mentally, and emotionally. Maybe eventually spiritually, but I can’t get ahead of myself…”

“Marketability? What are you selling?”

Malachi smiled, but his eyes were focused far away.

“I am selling the future.”