Page 64 of Anatomy of the Immortal Species
Those glimpses of Mikhail’s world had been torturing her for a while. But every time she tried to see more, the image would disappear, leaving her with a heavy heart and dark thoughts.
She shouldn’t have cared as much as she did, but it was hard not to. His absence was felt throughout the Hospital – in the staff’s eyes, in his friends’ demeanour, and yes, in her own dreams and solitude. Many times, she’d caught herself thinking of him, of what they’d left unfinished that day. Would they ever get a second chance?
With a new resolve, Amelia paced to the desk and tore a piece of paper. She wrote down:
I’ve been searching for “it” for days, to no avail. Looks like the only way is for M. to give it to me, but he’s still in Prokaliya. Can you get him out?
She balled up the paper. Who else had the power to save Mikhail, if not a semi-goddess?
24
Making decisions for the good of the entire immortal world was arduous, to say the least, when one couldn’t care less about that world.
Constantine had a million ways to better spend his time than overseeing a table of creatures. Half of them were pushing for genetic tests hoping to save their asses, while the other half feared that disturbing the temple might unleash an ancient curse worse than the current regeneration issues. Constantine would probably be dead before he grew old, and wasalreadycursed anyway, so neither argument could win him over.
He found Helena Nyavolska in the Radiology Department. The nymph was sitting behind an enormous desk, threatening a young creature that she’d lock him up in the magnet’s tube, whatever the hell that meant, if she ever caught him late for his shift again.
“Scram!” Helena shooed him. “To what do I owe the pleasure, necromancer?”
He strolled in, surveying her sly smile and red hair pulled up in a tight bun. This woman smelled like trouble from afar. But who was he to judge?
“You want to conduct a genetic test on a creature from the Temple of the Dead Immortals?” he said. “I am giving you my approval, but keep it between the two of us, and the few other trusted creatures you choose to take with you.”
“Concerned Mikhail might blow a fuse if he finds out?” the nymph asked with a composed expression.
He leaned forward, resting his hands on the desk. “I’ll manage Mikhail. But as far as everyone else is concerned, the proposal was shot down and forgotten.”
Helena tilted her head to survey him, eyes gleaming. “Am I to understand that you don’t want the Council finding out?”
“Precisely. If the Council accepts it officially, the news will spread through the Hospital like wildfire. How are you supposed to go on a secret mission if the entire world already knows about it?”
“Lovely.”
“Think carefully about who you wish to take with you. And don’t do anything stupid. I have no wish to clean up after you.”
Helena smiled. “That won’t be necessary, necromancer.”
Why was it hard for him to believe that?
***
Approving Helena’s insane plan left a somewhat bitter aftertaste. But Constantine knew from his own experience that when everything was going to shit, the dumbest thing one can do is keep worshipping one’s old angels.If they haven’t got you out of the mess by now, they never will.
It was too hypothetical, but if Helena were to discover something with her trip to the Temple of the Dead Immortals, Constantine planned to use the information as a bargaining chip for Mikhail’s freedom. Presiyan was uncompromising, but would he be so if given the opportunity to live a life with normal regeneration?
Constantine glanced at his golden watch. His date for the night was waiting in a rental apartment downtown. He threw his grey jacket over the shirt and headed for the lift. The thought of what was to come caused a slight twitch in his groin. He was hungry for yet another dose of debauchery.
Dose, because as of late, that was the way to describe it. He used to love sex, but after losing his necromancer abilities,every orgasm served as a pathetic attempt at receiving a somewhat stronger sensation. Unfortunately, the experience was often short-lived and insufficient. And overcompensating with quantity didn’t improve said experience.
Tonight, even in a state of abstinence, his brain wasn’t as enthused as his cock. The lift doors slung open but instead of heading to the parking, he swerved towards the gym.
Once inside, he leaned against the wall, as had become his habit whenever he visited. He drooled over Diana’s ass, tightly packed inside her purple shorts, then moved his gaze onto the toned muscles on her stomach, the delicate waist he could crush with a single motion of his hand…
That someone would crush with a single motion of their hand…
Constantine frowned, crossing his arms. He never interfered in other people’s business. He had his sins, but unlike Mikhail, he’d never fooled himself into thinking that he could atone for them by rescuing a few desperate lives.
Taking Mikhail’s place on the Council must have provoked in him a sense of responsibility for the creatures under the Hospital’s wings. What other reason could there be for his jaw to clench every time he thought about Diana’s participation in the tournament?
