Page 21 of Anatomy of the Immortal Species
She pried his fingers away, revealing the wound underneath. Mikhail didn’t want her to know the extent of his injury, buthe lacked the strength to stop her. Even before her hands were stained with his blood, she had already assessed the damage from the reptilian’s blade.
Her eyes met his, asking a silent question.Do you know?
Yes, Mikhail knew all too well how severe it was. “It’s all right, little beast.”
Amelia stiffened. Was it the realisation of his condition, or the nickname? Referring to the woman endowed with the power of the Oracle that way was presumptuous, even disrespectful. But he didn’t care. She washisAmelia.
“Mikhail, you’re bleeding heavily,” she said, her face tense. “We need to get you to the Hospital fast.”
Her expression was firm, but her blue eyes were filled with worry. An unexpected warmth spread through his chest, and for a moment, he was oddly grateful to the reptilian for putting them in this situation. If he had ever doubted that Amelia still existed behind the Oracle, now he knew she was there. And she wasn’t indifferent to his suffering. “I will not die, Amelia.”
“Of course, you’re not going to die,” she said, her hands pressing firmly against the wound.
Her delicate fingers smeared with his blood, while his vision darkened with spots. “Don’t worry, little one… Everything… will be all right… I promise. Zacharia… is coming.” Mikhail’s head drooped to the ground, his body shivering with cold.
“Where’s your phone?” Amelia’s silhouette shifted as she loosened her pressure on his wound. “I’ve got it.” A brief pause. “Zacharia! It’s Mikhail. He’s not well. Yes, we’re here. Yes, all right. Hurry!” She returned her hands to his wound. “Mikhail! Mikhail! Open your eyes! Please, Mikhail!”
He hadn’t realised his eyes were closed because, in his mind, he hadn’t stopped seeing Amelia. He remembered the first time he’d met her and passed her by, oblivious to how special she was. Then, when he’d kidnapped her and terrified her. The first timehe’d seen her smile. When she’d let him in, and he’d responded with nothing but callousness. The flashes shifted, turning to more recent events. Like when Amelia became the Oracle and whispered her prophecy to him.
The prophecy.
That damned prophecy foretelling his death, which he had completely ignored. He wouldn’t die now either, only Amelia didn’t know that. She likely believed he was slipping away. And even though his body behaved strangely, somehow reminding him of that time when Valeria’s poison had weakened him, he wouldn’t…
“Not… dying…”
“I know. Mikhail, open your eyes.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Talk to me,” he rasped.
For a moment, he thought he had lost consciousness because only silence greeted him. Then, she spoke.“When I was little, I dreamed of you every night.” She paused. “I saw you in the Hospital, but back then, I thought it was a castle and you – a prince.”
More. He wanted to hear more.
“The first time I saw you, your eyes were yellow. It scared me, but then I got used to them. I had forgotten, until…”
Why had she stopped? There had to be more to her story. It couldn’t end here.
6
Zacharia slammed the brakes of his black Lexus, blocking the right lane and worsening the already chaotic rush hour traffic. A cacophony of honks filled the boulevard. His eyes darted to the buildings on his right, scanning for any sign of Mikhail and Amelia, but they were nowhere to be seen.
He double-checked the location Mikhail had sent via an app on his phone – they had to be close.
The muffled curses of an irate driver behind him filtered through the closed window, as the car tried to manoeuvre around the obstruction. Zacharia ignored it and stepped out of his vehicle, into the sea of stalled cars. The moment his boots hit the asphalt, the noise ceased. His imposing figure, clad in black, and the stern set of his military haircut made people instinctively keep their distance.
He resumed his search. The air was thick with fumes, but he inhaled deeply, tapping into his lycanthrope senses. The acrid stench of the city couldn’t mask what he was after – blood. His nostrils flared, catching a familiar scent: the unmistakable essence of a manticore, tinged with the delicate notes of geraniums and citrus. Amelia.
And… the mirabelle flower. A scent that had belonged only to the previous Oracle. It was the same fragrance he had detected on Amelia not too long ago. His heart pounded while his eyes traced the source to a cluster of low buildings nearby.
Just then, Amelia emerged from a narrow alley, dragging Mikhail’s limp body. She was hunched over, her hands grippinghis armpits while she struggled to pull him, step by agonising step, away from the shadowy passage. Her boots had one heel broken, making her gait even more unstable, and she was leaving a trail of red-stained dirt behind them.
Zacharia rushed forward. Without a word, he lifted the manticore’s massive frame over his shoulder. Mikhail had passed out, his complexion as pale as a sheet of paper. His body, although having lost a significant amount of blood, still weighed over three hundred pounds.
Mustering up all his strength, Zacharia headed back to the car. How the hell had Amelia managed to drag Mikhail’s body all the way here? The distance was not short – the bloody path coming from behind the building was a testament to that. It was also why he had explicitly forbidden her from moving him. It was one thing to erase a pool of blood in some back alley, but a trail leading to the bustling boulevard was another thing altogether.
“Open the door!” he barked.
Amelia reached for the handle of the back door. Zacharia placed Mikhail’s body on the seat and returned behind the wheel. Amelia climbed in beside the manticore. No sooner did she close the door than the Lexus’ front-end was already forcing its way between two other cars.
