Touching her forehead, she realized her fever was spiking. She managed to pop a few more Tylenol, then grabbed a washcloth, which she soaked in cold tap water.
That wasn’t cold enough. She tossed it on her bathroom counter and cupped her hand in the cool stream of water. Splashing it over her face, she felt a few seconds of relief—until she looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was paler than she’d ever seen it. The skin around her eyes was dark. Her eyes were bloodshot. She winced, looking at herself, and realized her gums were bleeding.
She stumbled backward, banging into the shower door. She stepped into the stall and turned the water on cold. She was still dressed, so it soaked her clothes, ruined her shoes. She slumped to the floor.
She should call him. He would know what to do.
But who was he?
Merc woke abruptly. He’d only had a couple of restless hours of sleep after his encounter with Ashlyn. A single knock sounded on his door, then someone came in.
Guerre.
He pulled the blackout shades wide. Merc braced himself on his elbows. No way would Guerre wake him like this for anything less than earth-shattering. And right now, that earth-shattering had something to do with Ash.
Merc threw off his covers and went into his closet to dress. “Tell me,” he ordered Guerre, who followed him in.
“She’s sick. Real sick. She’s got a high fever. You need to bring her out here.”
Merc poked his head out of the tee he was pulling on. “Why is she sick? From that damned bite?”
“Not sure, but the Ratcliffs can run more tests on her. Just bring her out here so we can get her stabilized.”
“Roger that.” Merc shoved his feet into his boots. “Tell Liege where I am.”
“Will do.”
It was midmorning when Merc got to Ash’s house. After his most recent run-in with her at the fort, when he couldn’t keep his hands—or his body—off her, Merc had insulated himself from her. He had to if he was going to set her free. Shit, he had to if he wanted to draw a full breath. Thank fuck Guerre was still attuned to her.
He entered through her side door, calling out her name.
No answer.
He felt her. She was definitely here. He went down the hall to her bedroom and heard the shower running. He poked his head around the bathroom door. “Ash?”
She was sitting on the floor of the shower, her face turned up toward the stream of water. The chill in the air and the fact that she still wore her work clothes meant something was very wrong.
Merc, Liege said into his mind, Acier is on his way over to drive you and Ash out here. Keep her still and quiet.
What the fuck’s happening?
The Ratcliffs have the results from her latest labs. She is definitely mutating.
What kind of mutation?
Not like ours. Not like Summer’s. She’s becoming—he paused—a ghoul.
Oh. Fuck. Merc hit his knees on the bathroom floor. Oh, God. If the change didn’t kill her, he would have to. That particular mutation strain was a death sentence. It always destroyed its host. Even if she survived the change, she wouldn’t be Ash any longer, but a monster under Flynn’s control.
There was no antidote.
He crawled into the shower and shut the water off. “Ash? Baby? You there?”
She opened her eyes. Blood pooled in her lower eyelids. Her lips moved, but no words came out, no sound at all, and he could see the blood in her mouth. She coughed, spewing red spittle on her white shirt.
Merc wept as he pushed her wet hair aside. She caught his wrist and pressed it to her face, rubbing her teeth against his skin as if readying to bite him.
He compelled her to sleep. He’d just lifted her from the stall when he heard the side door open and slam shut. Acier rushed to help. He looked as crushed as Merc. He stood back and let Merc pass.
Merc pressed her close to his body, and though he tried to separate himself from the emotions ravaging him, he couldn’t stop the sob that broke free.
In his arms was the woman who was his heart. She still breathed, but wouldn’t for long.
Acier put a hand on his back and guided him through the house and out to the black SUV in the driveway. He held the door open for Merc to lift Ash in, then climb in after her.
Merc broke. He scooped Ash close, rocking her as he wept. When they reached the fort, Nathan met him at the gate with a gurney. Merc refused to give Ash up. He carried her inside, over to the elevator, then down to the Ratcliffs’ lab. Only then did he set her down.
He wiped his tears away. “The changes are starting.”
Joyce was removing Ash’s clothes. She put restraints on her neck, wrists, waist, and ankles. After that, she covered Ash with a warm sheet and got an IV started.
Merc held Ash’s limp hand through it all. “Tell me there’s something you can do, doc, to slow this down. Stop it. God, reverse it.”
Nathan brought over a stool for him to sit on. Merc put his face against the back of Ash’s wrist. Guerre set a hand on his shoulder, pouring a sense of ease into his energy.
Joyce hung up a saline bag. “She won’t feel pain, Merc. We can at least do that for her.”
Wait! Stop! Liege’s shout reached them moments before he ran into the room. They all looked at him expectantly. “Santo said there is another way.” Liege looked from Merc to the Ratcliffs, his face full of worry. “It’s not a guarantee. It may kill her too, but we have to try.”
“What did he suggest?” Joyce asked.
“Desanguination.”
Oh hell. They were going to kill her to save her. “How could that work?” Merc asked.
Joyce and Nathan exchanged a long look, that very question probably in their silent communication.
“It would remove the Omni mutation, which, until this week, has stayed dormant. Those mutations have too great of a head start if we were to try to flush them out by a flood of our own mutations. But if we were to remove a significant enough population of them, we could have a shot at reviving her with our less destructive modifications. It could work.”
Merc shook his head. “She’ll die in the process. You can’t remove her blood and think she’ll survive long enough to receive a transfusion. Even Guerre couldn’t support her through that.”
Liege came over to stand with Merc. “She’s going to die if we do nothing. There isn’t time for other options. The genetic modifications are already at work.”
There is another way, my friends. Flynn’s voice spilled into the room like from a loudspeaker. Give me Guerre. I’ll give you the antidote.
There is no antidote, Liege responded.
There is. But sweet Ashlyn’s life is on the line—there’s no time for debate. Perhaps I underestimated your affection for her.
Merc glared at Liege. In their secure group link, he said, Yeah, no. This has already gone too far. But even if there was a chance, we can’t lose Guerre.
Agreed, Acier said. Flynn knows Ash is as good as gone. He’s just fucking with us.
I’ll go, Guerre told his friends.
Merde alors. You are going nowhere, Bastion snarled.
Ash’s life is worth far more than mine, Guerre said. We lose her, we’ll lose Merc as well.
Don’t trust Flynn, Selena said. He always lies.
“Decide,” Nathan said, breaking into their debate. “We cannot waste another second.”