Chapter 12

TWELVE

XERO

By the time I return to the infirmary, I’m gasping for the oxygen mask. The adrenaline sustaining me through interrogating Reverend Thomas has wrung dry, leaving me trembling and weak.

Each breath is like inhaling fire and my lungs have reduced to the size of my fists. I allow Jynxson to strap me to the cot without complaint, because fighting him is beyond my capacity. He fastens the mask over my mouth and nose, and I suck in the fresh air with hungry gulps.

I succumb to sleep within seconds and remain unconscious for what feels like only moments before the door slams open with a resounding bang. Sunlight streams through my closed eyelids, forcing me awake. Isabel’s sharp voice slices through the haze.

“Did you enjoy your nighttime jaunt?” she asks, her voice cutting through the beeps of the machines.

“It was worth it,” I mutter, my eyes still closed.

When my sister rattles off my test results, nothing at all is a surprise. Decreased blood oxygen, elevated carbon monoxide levels, not to mention inflammation. The ECG results show signs of increased cardiac stress, brought on by the night’s escapade.

She continues with her chastisements, but I’m not listening. I finally have a lead. Amethyst’s blond companion was one of the actors in X-Cite Media’s graveyard video. If we can get Father to invite Reverend Thomas to the video shoot, then I’ll capture them both.

A cough explodes through my chest. I still can’t puzzle through Amethyst’s connection with Father. Was she brought back to him against her will, or did she return to him out of a sick sense of Stockholm syndrome?

“Are you listening to me?” Isabel snaps.

I crack open an eye and wince at her fierce gaze.

“Keep this up and you risk permanent lung damage. We need to monitor you for complications like pneumonia.”

“Okay,” I rasp.

She reinserts the IV needle and checks the line. I follow it to a set of IV bags on a stand.

“What are those?” I ask.

“Saline and medications to help with the inflammation and pain.”

She rattles off a long list of drugs, along with their intended purposes, which raises my suspicions. Isabel isn’t usually this talkative unless she has an ulterior motive.

“You’re stalling for time,” I say, piecing together her intentions.

Her features harden. “I told you to stay in bed, but you convinced Jynxson to help you gallivant around the city, endangering your life. So now you’re going to rest.”

“Izzy.” I jerk within the restraints binding me to the bed, my chest erupting in a fresh cough. “There’s no time for this.”

Her gaze softens. “I won’t let you burn yourself out. Rest. By the time you wake up, we’ll have collected all the information we need to track him.”

And Amethyst, I want to say, but my words are cut off by another bout of wracking coughs. I struggle against the sedatives coursing through my veins and fight to keep my eyes open, but each blink feels heavier than the last.

The room blurs around me, and I cling to consciousness, desperate to stay alert despite the overwhelming pull of drowsiness. I grasp at my scattering thoughts, trying to anchor myself into consciousness, but it’s like trying to hold on to smoke.

Isabel retreats, her shoes squeaking on the polished floor. The beeping of the monitors becomes a soft drumbeat that lulls me toward sleep. Amethyst’s face is the last thing I see before I succumb to oblivion.