Goddamn it, he didn’t want any of those females to be sick, but why her?
Of all of them, in the entire history of the Race, why did Selena have to be one of the ones cut short like this?
And it was a horrible way to die. Frozen in your own body, unable to communicate, trapped in a fading prison until everything went dark and you …
He closed his eyes.
Shit, what if she didn’t want him here? He had bonded, yes—and everyone else was treating him with the respect that a bonded male would have in this situation, even as they wondered how it had happened without them knowing.
The problem was, he and Selena weren’t mated. In a relationship. Even dating.
Hell, they hadn’t even spent two minutes together in months—
“Trez?”
With a jerk, he popped his lids. Doc Jane was in front of him, her forest-green eyes alert and grave. “I’ve looked at the X-rays.”
He cleared his throat. “Maybe the others would like to be here for this?”
Shit, should he step aside so Cormia or someone could hold her hand? Would that be better? His body would hate that and so would his soul. But this was not about him.
A lot of people came in, more than there had been, and he nodded at Tohr, Qhuinn and Blay—and was glad that Layla was there, along with Cormia and Phury. Forcing himself to his feet, he went to step back, but the Primale came over and eased him down into that chair again.
“You stay where you are,” Phury said, squeezing his shoulder. “You’re right where you need to be.”
Trez let out some kind of croak. It was the best he could do.
Doc Jane cleared her throat. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” She called something up on the big computer screen by the desk. “It’s as if the joints themselves have turned to solid bone.”
The black-and-white image was of what appeared to be Selena’s knee and Doc Jane indicated different areas with the head of a silver pen. “On X-ray, bones register white and pale gray, whereas connective tissue like ligaments and tendons don’t offer that kind of contrast. Here”—she drew a circle around the joint—“there should be dark patches in between the cap and the socket. Instead it’s just … solid bone. The same is true for the joints in her feet, her elbow, her…”
More of those images flashed up on the screen, one after another, and all he could do was shake his head. It was as if someone had poured cement into all the junctures.
“What’s particularly worrisome is this.” A new picture became visible. “This is her arm. Unlike the other joints, the bone growth appears to be spreading and invading into the musculature. If this continues, her entire body—”
“Stone,” Trez whispered.
Oh, God, those marble statues in that place he’d found her.
That wasn’t a courtyard—that was a cemetery. Full of the females who had suffered and died from this.
“The only thing I’m aware of that is remotely like this is a human disease called fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva. It’s an extremely rare genetic condition that causes bone to form where muscles, tendons, and ligaments are, and it results, over time, in a total restriction of movement—to the point where patients must choose the position they want to be locked into. The growth of the bone happens sporadically and can be triggered by trauma or viruses, or can be spontaneous. There are no treatments for the disease, and surgical removal of the growth just triggers further genesis. What Selena’s going through is like that—only it seems to have occurred all over her body at once.”
Trez twisted around to the two healthy Chosen in the room. “Has this ever been treated? At any time in the past, did someone try to find a way to stop it?”
Layla looked at Cormia and the latter spoke up. “We prayed … that was all we could do. And still the attacks came.”
“So this is … an episode of some sort?” Doc Jane asked. “Not the terminus?”
“I don’t know how many of these she’s had.” Cormia brushed a tear off her cheek. “Usually there is a period of them before the final one from which they do not recover.”
Doc Jane frowned. “So the body unlocks? How?”
“I do not know.”
Trez spoke up to the Chosen. “Did either of you have any idea she was sick?”
“No one did.” Cormia leaned against her hellren as if she needed his support. “But considering the condition she’s in now … I believe she must be toward the end of the disease. It’s my understanding that the early episodes affect only parts of the body. This is all of hers.”
Trez deflated on his exhale, his strength expelling out of his mouth. The only thing that kept him from breaking down was the possibility that Selena might be aware of what was happening—and he wanted to appear to be strong for her.
Doc Jane leaned her hip against her desk and crossed her arms. “I can’t imagine how the joints can recover from this kind of state.”
Cormia shook her head. “The attacks, those few I’ve seen, come on fast and then … I don’t know what happens. Hours or a night later, they start to be able to move again. After a period of time, they regain mobility—but it always happens again. Always.”
“They also choose a position,” Layla said quietly as she, too, brushed at tears. “Like the humans you spoke of, our sisters always chose—they would tell us how they wanted to be and we would make sure…”
There were more things said. Questions asked. Explanations given to the best of people’s abilities. But he had stopped tracking.
Like a train gathering speed, his mind, his emotions, his sense of total impotence and all his regrets started to churn along a defined path, gathering speed and intensity.
He hated that her hair was a mess and he couldn’t fix it.
He hated that there were grass stains on her robing, bright green smudges where her knees had hit the ground.
He hated that her shoes had fallen off.
He hated that he couldn’t do one fucking thing to save her.
He hated the burden he carried with the s’Hisbe and everything it had made him do to his body—because maybe if his parents hadn’t sold him to the Queen, he wouldn’t have fucked all those humans, and maybe he would have been even slightly worthy of her. And then he wouldn’t have missed all those months. And maybe he could have seen something, or done something, or—
Like the conversation around him, the thoughts continued to pelt their way through his brain, but he couldn’t track them any more than he could whatever else was going on in the exam room. A violent roar had overtaken him, tsunami-ing through him, wiping everything away except a rage that could not be held in.
Trez wasn’t aware of moving. One minute he was holding on to Selena’s hand carefully; the next he was at the door to the examination room—then he was through it, his body exploding forward, more momentum than coordination.
Running, running … going by the jerks in his vision and the passing walls of the concrete corridor, he was running …
And there was a lot of noise. The empty hall was echoing with some kind of tremendous noise, like the gear of a great machine had locked or was grinding—
Something tackled him from behind before he reached the exit into the parking garage, an iron bar hold locking around him.
iAm.
Of course.
“Drop it,” came the shout in his ear. “Drop it … come on, now. Drop it—”
Trez shook his head. “What…?”
“Drop the gun, Trez.” iAm’s voice cracked. “I need you to drop the gun.”
Trez froze except for his panting breath, and tried to make sense of what his brother was saying.
“Oh, Jesus, Trez, please…”
Shaking his head, Trez … gradually became aware that there was, in fact, someone’s forty in his right hand. Probably his own. He always wore one in the club.
And what do you know, the muzzle was up against his own temple—and unlike back with those X-ray plates, his hand wasn’t shaking at all.
“Drop it for me, Trez.” With his finger on the trigger the way it was, his brother obviously didn’t dare try to take control of the weapon for fear of causing a discharge. “You gotta put the gun down.”
At that moment, everything became clear: him bursting up, bolting fast, breaking out of the exam room and into the corridor. Running down toward the parking garage as he palmed his weapon.
Intending to blow his brains out as soon as he was free of the training center.
He’d had the conception that maybe, if there was actually a Fade, he and Selena could meet on the other side and come together, in a way they never could down on Earth.
“Trez, she’s still alive. Don’t you do this. You want to kill yourself? Wait until her heart stops beating, but not before that. Not one fucking moment before that.”
Trez pictured Selena back on that table, and thought, Shit …
iAm, as always, was right.
The shaking returned as he began to lower his arm, and he moved slowly for fear of some twitch setting the forty off. But he didn’t need to worry about that. As soon as that muzzle was out of the range of his gray matter, his brother took over, disarming him quick as a breath and putting the safety in place.