Chapter 7

Aria

My breath immediately caught in my throat and my heart slammed against my ribs as if it was about to burst. He was just how I imagined he'd grow up.

But then my eyes caught his.

I stared into them.

Black.

They were pitch black. Dull, feverish, and empty.

There was no violet glow. No ethereal feel. Just the glassy stare of a dying child.

The hope that had flared in my chest died instantly. I felt cold. My hands dropped to my sides.

It’s not him.

Of course it wasn't. My son was dead. I've spent the last six years searching for him, thinking that I was lied to, deceived, but the truth always hit me in the face, he was gone. Maybe I'd really hallucinated that night, truly been delirious, I even imagined this sick boy as my child.

Dante stepped up beside me and looked down at the boy with a tired expression.

"Don't let it get to you, he just calls every lady he sees mama."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing my face to go blank. I couldn't let him see my expression.

"How old is he?" I asked, my voice stiff.

Dante brushed a lock of damp hair off the boy’s forehead.

"Five."

Five.

The boy did look that age, even smaller. That just confirmed it even more. My own son would be six. It was six years ago when I miraculously gave birth to him. Since this boy was five, the math didn't work. It was impossible.

I took a sharp step back. I needed to distance myself. I needed to stop acting like a grieving mother and start acting like a doctor.

"I need to see his charts," I said, turning away from the bed.

I walked to the monitors at the foot of the bed. I scanned the data. His white blood cell count was zero. His magic levels were critical. His organs were shutting down one by one.

This wasn't a disease. It was a massacre inside his own body. The "Blood Curse" was real. His own magic was eating him alive from the inside out.

I walked back to the bed and checked his pulse. It was extremely weak.

The boy whimpered, his black eyes rolling back as a tremor shook his small frame.

I peeled off the gloves and tossed them in the bin.

"I can't help him," I said flatly.

Dante’s head snapped up, his golden eyes narrowing. "What?"

"I am a surgeon, Dante. I fix broken bones. I stitch organs. This?" I pointed to the boy. "This is genetic. His body is rejecting his own magic. I can't cut that out with a scalpel."

I grabbed a towel and wiped my hands, though they were clean.

"I estimate he has weeks. Maybe a month if you keep him on these machines. But he is going to die."

The room went silent. The only sound was the beeping of the heart monitor.

"That can't be, ten million," Dante suddenly said.

"Excuse me?"

"Ten million dollars," he repeated, taking a step toward me. "I’ll wire it to your account right now. Just to try."

I looked at him. I saw the desperation in his eyes, but it didn't matter. Money couldn't fix a curse.

"I’m not a con artist, Dante. I don't take money for jobs I can't do. You need a geneticist or a priest, not a surgeon."

I walked toward the door. "Now, take me back."

"No."

I stopped and turned around slowly.

He hadn't moved, but the air in the room suddenly felt heavier.

"What did you say?"

"You're not leaving," Dante said. He walked around the bed and stood between me and the door. He crossed his arms, his biceps straining against his suit jacket. "You are the best. The Viper. If you can't fix him... then you will stay here until you figure out how to. You will spend all your time taking care of him, planning strategies, anything it takes."

"You can't be serious," I scoffed. "I have a clinic. I have clients waiting. I’m leaving."

I stepped forward, trying to shove past him but it was like shoving a brick wall. He didn't budge.

"Move," I snapped, pushing his chest harder.

He grabbed my wrists. His grip tight.

"You stay, until he is cured, or until he dies. Those are your options."

"I am not your prisoner!" I shouted. I twisted my arms, trying to break his hold. I kicked his legs with the heel of my boot. Hard, but he didn't even flinch. He just pulled me closer, his face inches from mine.

"You are on my island, Dr. Vale. You are whatever I say you are."

He reached past me and hit the intercom button on the wall.

"Vesper."

"Sir?" A voice crackled through the speaker.

"Dr. Vale is staying," Dante said, staring right into my eyes. "Escort her to the Guest Suite. Lock it from the outside."

"Understood."

"You bastard!" I yelled. I managed to free one hand and swung at his face.

He caught my fist easily, inches from his jaw.

"Save your energy for the patient," he said coldly.

The door hissed open behind me.

A woman with a shaved head and a scar running down her face, Vesper, stood there with two armed guards behind her.

"Let go of me!" I screamed as Dante released me, shoving me toward the guards.

Vesper grabbed my arm. Her grip was even more painful.

"Don't make this difficult, Doctor," she said, her voice irritated.

I dug my heels into the floor. I tried to twist away, but the two guards grabbed my shoulders and dragged me backward into the hallway.

"You will regret this, Dante!" I screamed at him. "I will burn this place down!"

Dante just stood in the doorway, watching me.

"Start with the fever, love." he said.

Then he hit the button, and the heavy steel door slammed shut in my face.