Chapter Fifteen

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Matt tossed and turned restlessly. His eyes shot open, and he sucked in a mouthful of air, heart pounding wildly against his ribs. He glanced around, feeling disoriented. Pale light crept under the door, and he recognized the sterile white walls of his room.

"Matt, it's okay, you were dreaming." Rory's voice reached him from far away. She leaned over the bed, and her face swam into focus. He shivered in a cold sweat, clutching the blanket tighter around himself. "Go back to sleep. I'm right here with you," Rory whispered. He saw Pamela slide a needle into his IV line and felt himself drift off.

When Matt woke up again, his mind felt clearer. Every bone and muscle in his body ached. Tubes were still running out of his hand, and he wondered what they were pouring into him. Since he came out of sedation, Dr. Witherspoon and Pamela had monitored his progress, changing the IV bags, and taking vital signs. They allowed him to sit up on the edge of the bed, but only for a few minutes at a time. He felt trapped in this closet-like room; from the bed, all he could see was a sliver of the outside world.

Rory stayed with him most of the day, and Komazzi was trying to get back on his regular schedule. Matt saw him through the window, talking on his cellphone. But the scary thing was, he couldn't really hear the conversation. He used to be able to listen perfectly, even with the door closed. There was a whiteboard by the door with a bunch of writing scribbled on it. He squinted and could just barely make out the words. He thought about asking Komazzi what was going on, but he was too exhausted.

He didn't remember falling asleep, but when Matt opened his eyes again, Pamela bounced into the room, wearing that fake smile she often used with test subjects. That couldn't possibly mean anything good. He watched her warily as she opened the window blinds, flooding the room with light. "Good morning!" she chirped.

"What day is it?" Matt asked, noticing that his hand was free of the IV. His fingers brushed over a jagged cut on his arm. It was about three inches long. "What the fuck happened to my arm?"

"It's Monday—you've been here for two weeks," Pamela replied, popping a thermometer into his mouth before he could say anything else. "Your body rejected the implant, so they had to remove it. But Dad stitched you up, and it's healing well." Komazzi had warned her that Matt didn't need to know the truth yet, and she was surprised at how easily the lie came to her. She slipped the thermometer out of his mouth and wrote something on her clipboard.

"I've had that chip for six months." Matt frowned, realizing that without it, he was doomed once more to clinic visits. Every six months, he would be poked and prodded, tormented by the harsh reality of his disease. "Why would I reject it after all this time?"

"It happens." Pamela shrugged. She glanced down at her paperwork. "We have tests to run today, and if everything looks good, you might be able to go home tomorrow."

Home, Matt thought. He'd almost forgotten what it was like beyond the door of his room. He lay in bed at night, terrified he would never see home again. He had lost weeks of his life to this illness, but he was finally getting out of here.

* * *
Bane drummed his fingers impatiently on Komazzi's desk and glared at the ticking clock. "Where the hell is Mordecai? He was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago!" He hated waiting for people. It was normal for Cat to be fashionably late, but he expected everyone else to show up at meetings when he told them to. His eyes swept over the room. The heavy curtains were shut, blocking out the sun. Komazzi was sitting behind the desk, quietly drinking blood from a wine glass.

Mordecai breezed into the room. "I got held up on the phone," he explained, oblivious to Bane shooting daggers at him. He opened a Manila folder and withdrew a sheet of paper. "All of the results are in. There's no trace of poison, and the drugs are forcing the virus back into remission."

"So he's better," Bane said.

"Not exactly." Mordecai shook his head. "The vampire cells failed to regenerate as we'd hoped they would. If we had discovered the source of the liquid in the bullets sooner, we could have prevented it from spreading so quickly. I haven't tested his abilities, but I can guarantee you that they've been destroyed by the toxin."

"Shit!" Komazzi slammed his fist on the desk. If he ever found out who the director of the organization was, he would make them wish they'd never been born. "Why the hell would they mess with his powers, isn't that what they were after?"

"The organization didn't do this alone. I'm willing to bet Michael and those feathered fucks helped them. He planned this whole thing," Bane growled.

"And we played right into his hands," Komazzi muttered. It had been nearly a decade since Michael tried to stir up trouble in Shire Bottom, but Bane's theory made sense. Michael was extremely manipulative. He wouldn't have any difficulty convincing the organization to work with him. No doubt he was the one who gave them the bullets, although they probably weren't aware of the poison. Komazzi had a good idea of what they would have done to Matt when they discovered his abilities were compromised.

"We need to do a blood transfusion to restore the vampire cells," Mordecai insisted. "The poison has put significant strain on his heart. No matter how good he claims to feel, I don't want him back to work until the transfusion has a chance to take effect."

Bane glanced at Komazzi. "If this is a coup, you can't go unprotected. Cat and I will find you another bodyguard."

"Thanks." Komazzi nodded, twisting the inner circle ring on his finger. He wondered just how far this conspiracy went. If Michael's battle plan was to weed out the hierarchy, that meant he was next. With both him and Matt out of the picture, Michael would try to take down Cat and Bane. Michael was no match for the two demons, but they still might have to call in reinforcements.

Mordecai shuffled the papers in his hands and cleared his throat. "The antivirals will remain in his system for a while, but I want to see him again in a few weeks to run a battery of tests, including a bone marrow aspiration. It should tell us whether the remission is holding or not."

"I'll make sure he's there," Komazzi insisted, and headed toward the door. "If we're done here, I'll meet you in the lab so we can get this started."

* * *
A knock on the door startled Matt out of sleep. He groped blindly for the bedside lamp. It was nighttime, which meant he had slept all afternoon. Komazzi stood in the doorway; the hallway behind him was engulfed in darkness.

Matt was tired and didn't feel like having visitors. They had drawn a small ocean of blood from him this morning. He'd spent thirty claustrophobic minutes lying inside a scanner while they checked for organ damage. A headache still lingered from the spinal tap, and the Tylenol Pamela had given him wasn't helping much.

"I'm sorry to wake you. Can we talk?" Komazzi asked.

"Sure, you have my undivided attention," Matt said, glancing down at the tube threaded into a vein in his arm, leading up to bags of blood on the IV pole. "I can't exactly go anywhere."

Komazzi pulled up a chair. He figured it was best to get right to the point. "Bane's decided that Paxton will fill in for you this week." He was hesitant about Bane's choice of bodyguard. The oldest of the Quints, Paxton was fast, strong...and lazy. Komazzi had assigned him to security at the ruins a month ago. He seemed to do okay with that, but driving around the empty property was less risky than covering Komazzi out in the field.

"Why can't James do it? Or Legolas?" Matt demanded. There was no way Bane Morningstar seriously thought Paxton was capable of guarding the Second in Command. "We all know Paxton is a fucking idiot, and his mommy Daphne's been sitting back waiting for me to die so he can take my job."

Komazzi opened his mouth to reply, but James stuck his head in the doorway. "Did I hear someone mention Legolas?"

"Let's not start in about him." Komazzi groaned. It was common knowledge that Legolas was obsessed with Cat. This made him a perfect candidate for her security team, but he was so devoted to her that he wouldn't be able to concentrate on guarding anyone else. In high school, he had followed Cat around like a lovesick puppy and earned himself the nickname Dog Boy.

"You're no fun," James retorted, looking around for a place to sit. The single chair was occupied by Komazzi, so he plopped down on the edge of the bed.

"What are you doing here this late, anyway?" Komazzi demanded.

"You know, Cat's giving herself some TLC at home, so there isn't a need for us right now." James smiled, patting Matt on the leg only to earn a stern glare from the blonde. Cat's apartment was highly guarded and secure, but no one could figure out how in the hell Allie Spring kept sneaking past the guard without getting buzzed in. It was possible the guards never saw the obnoxious brunette as a threat, so they ignored her constant presence. Allie also claimed to be a friend of Rose, but no one had a clue why Rose hung around her.

"Don't you have paperwork or something to focus on?" Komazzi questioned, hoping James would leave. He needed to speak with Matt in private about his recovery timeline. If anyone sensed his weakness, there were several people waiting in line to end his adoptive son's life and take his place at the top of the food chain.

"James, you could guard Komazzi, right?" Matt asked. Anyone would do a better job than that greasy-haired sleazeball Paxton. James just laughed slightly.

"There is no way Bane is going to leave his princess unattended or with less than her full guard," James said as his phone chimed, indicating a text message. It was Cat, sending him a picture of her smiling, happily hugging Cerberus, who was licking her face. She was so innocent sometimes, one could forget her actual power. Perhaps that was why Bane wanted her so well guarded. "Remember that semester you 'dated' Cat your freshman year?"

"I wouldn't call that dating," Matt insisted, truly wishing he could forget that entire unfortunate four months. The older boys took great pleasure in constantly ridiculing him about it in high school. Cat was known for sucking all of the boys in school into her harem. Some became long-term boy toys and others were just a passing fling. Matt, on the other hand, was completely naive about Cat's whole game.

"You went out with her to what you thought would be Tubby's." James laughed, clutching his stomach as he broke into hysterical snickering. "She took you to Broken Arrow."

"Please stop." Matt groaned, his face turning bright red as he buried it in a pillow. He still had nightmares about his night with Cat at the Broken Arrow bar as a fourteen-year-old. She'd convinced him he should have a drink, and while everything in his body told him no, he had kind of wanted to impress her at the time. His powers had not matured yet, so his tolerance for things was rather low and his reflexes were that of a normal fourteen-year-old.

He remembered vividly the short, tight, silver dress Cat had worn that night, and cringed as he thought of what happened to it. Trying to impress the girl who was three years ahead of him, he'd chugged a beer that tasted horrible and turned his stomach. He did his best to keep it down, but Cat decided to try making out with him, clearly not realizing the state he was in.
Being fourteen, his hormones told him everything would be fine if he just kept breathing. As she leaned her body against him, the revolting beer came right back up. Thankfully, he'd pulled away just in time to spew it across her dress.

"I remember that." Komazzi scowled. He hadn't been pleased that Cat encouraged Matt to drink, but after the bar incident, she never pursued him again.

"Anyway, I'd better run." James sprang up from the bed, eyes glued to his phone. A weird tension filled the room now, and he sensed Komazzi was upset that he'd interrupted their conversation. "Get well soon, Mattie. Komazzi's life depends on it," he joked, then slipped out of the room.

Komazzi stood up and closed the door. "Bane thinks the double agents at the factory have been neutralized, but there's no guarantee we got them all. We don't know exactly who to trust right now, so you need to be careful once you go home. Things are going to be different for a while." He paused, staring out the window into the blackness of the empty parking lot. "There was some damage, but it's not permanent."

Matt hunched against his pillows, letting Komazzi's words sink in. "Okay," he mumbled. Suddenly, the thought of going home made him nauseous. He knew what Komazzi was referring to. He was completely defenseless, and who knew how long it would be until everything was back to normal?

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