Defy The Alpha(s) novel Chapter 197

Chapter 197: All Of Us Are Dead

"Excuse me?" Asher said, sounding as if he had misheard her. He stared at the corroded, blackened smear that used to be Alaric’s sample.

"It was a standard blood file from a previous medical checkup Alaric had with me. I had it on hand, so I used it," Adele explained, her brows drawn together. "Why? Is anything the matter?"

Instead of answering, Asher burst into laughter. He cackled the way a movie villain might after a grand revelation. The sound carried through the lab, and sent a chill along Adele’s spine.

"That is not funny, Asher Nightshade. Now tell me, what’s the issue here?" she demanded, crossing her arms as though to protect herself from his unsettling amusement.

He ceased laughing but the cruel gleam in his eyes remained, his lips curling slightly. "Has anyone told you that Violet Purple is immune to Alaric’s lightning?"

"What?!" Adele nearly dropped the vial in her hand, her jaw falling open. "No, that’s impossible. She can’t be—" Her voice died, eyes going wide as the blood drained from her face. "Goddess help us."

A wave of realization struck her. "Violet Purple isn’t immune to Alaric’s lightning," she breathed, horror lacing every syllable. "She’s killing him."

Adele’s mind was racing, her pulse hammering so loudly in her ears. She began to pace, her lab coat flouncing around her knees. "We have to warn Alaric. He has to stay away from Violet. At least, until we figure out whatever she is."

"Well, both of them have broken up, so I guess there’ll be no seeing each other. Thank the gods," Asher replied nonchalantly, though the satisfaction in his tone was obvious.

Asher didn’t say it because Alaric would be safe, but because there’d be no one standing between him and his purple queen.

Adele spun to face him, expression grim. "Ahh, right. I heard the results of your guys’ pretty game. But do you really think that’s enough to keep Alaric away from her? I’ve seen the way he looks at her. You too..." She trailed off, her gaze narrowing suspiciously.

"You too..." Adele repeated, her words a whisper as she realized something. Then, her eyes hardened with resolve. "You have to take the test too, Asher."

"Why?" Asher asked with arrogant calm. "Violet Purple is not immune to my powers, if you recall."

"Perhaps not yet," Adele retorted, "but maybe whatever death is in her blood, or whatever creature she is, simply hasn’t learned to adapt to your mental powers. Perhaps one day, she’ll turn that power against you and wipe off that smugness right off your face. So are you doing the test, yes or no?"

Asher merely lifted a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. "Fine. It wouldn’t hurt to try, anyway."

"Good."

Adele pointed Asher toward a high-backed swivel stool in the corner, clearing space on the table next to him.

"Sit," Adele commanded, donning a fresh pair of latex gloves.

Asher complied, rolling up his sleeve as Adele sterilized the area with a swipe of alcohol. The needle punctured his skin with a swift prick and dark crimson filled the syringe. Asher watched the whole process impassively, his face a study in boredom mixed with thinly veiled curiosity.

Adele removed the syringe, pressing a small wad of gauze to his arm, then turned her back to him, heading for the temperature-controlled rack holding what remained of Violet’s blood.

She placed Asher’s sample and Violet’s in two adjacent slides, layering them onto a single petri dish rigged with sensors and connected to a computer display. She stepped aside, allowing Asher a clear view of the screen that would log any interactions.

"The principle," Adele explained as she keyed in a few commands, "is the same as with Alaric’s test. If Violet’s blood is indeed hostile toward werewolf blood, there might be a reaction when they come into contact."

So together, they watched the digital display. A whir sound came to life as the mixing process began, rotating the dish gently.

Seconds passed. There was nothing.

A minute passed and still nothing.

Asher leaned against the table, arms crossed, a smug twist at the corner of his mouth. "How long did it take for Alaric’s sample?"