The gala had ended hours ago. It was 2:00 AM.
Athena sat in the dark living room. The house felt wrong. The silence wasn't peaceful; it was heavy, pregnant with disaster.
Headlights swept across the front windows. Tires screeched on the gravel.
The front doors flew open.
"Get the stretcher! Now!" Derik's voice was panic-stricken.
Athena shrank into the shadows of the staircase. She watched as Derik and two other bodyguards carried Caesar in.
He looked dead. His head lolled back, his skin gray. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, staining his white shirt.
Dr. Vance, the family physician, ran alongside them, clutching a medical bag. "Get him to the medical bay! His heart rate is dropping!"
They rushed into the room on the first floor that had been converted into a mini-ICU. The door slammed shut.
Athena crept down the stairs. The smell of copper and sickness hung in the air.
She pressed her ear to the door.
"It's the Belladonna variant," Vance was shouting. "The inhibitors aren't working! His system is shutting down!"
"Do something!" Derik roared.
"I can't! His body is rejecting the standard protocol," Vance's voice was strained, the calm professionalism cracking under pressure. "We have to wait it out. Ice baths to fight the fever. That's all that's left in the protocol."
Prayer.
Athena knew what that meant. In her last life, Caesar's body had been weakened by years of this mysterious poison. That weakness was why he couldn't pull himself out of the car wreckage.
If he died tonight, she died.
She ran back upstairs. She took out a simple set of silver needles and several bottles of herbal extracts she'd secretly prepared earlier from the compartment of her suitcase.
She sprinted back down.
Derik stood guard at the medical bay door. "Ma'am, go back to bed."
"Move," Athena growled.
"He's dying, Athena. You don't want to see this."
"If you don't move, he will die." Her eyes were wild, ferocious.
Derik hesitated. He saw something in her face-not madness, but absolute certainty.
Athena shoved past him and threw the door open.
"Get out!" Dr. Vance yelled.
Caesar lay on the hospital bed, stripped to the waist. His body was convulsing. Every muscle was locked in a spasm of agony.
Athena ignored the doctor. She moved to the bedside. She grabbed Caesar's wrist. His pulse was erratic, thready.
She unrolled the leather pouch. Silver needles glinted under the harsh fluorescent lights.
"What are you doing?" Vance lunged for her.
Derik caught the doctor's arm. "Wait."
Athena didn't hesitate. She drove a needle into the pressure point at the base of Caesar's neck. Then another into his chest. Another in his wrist.
The convulsions stopped instantly. Caesar gasped, a ragged intake of air.
Athena uncorked a vial. She pinched his nose and forced the dark liquid down his throat.
"Swallow," she commanded.
He swallowed.
Seconds passed. The heart monitor beeped. Beep... beep... beep. steadying.
Caesar's eyes flew open. They were black, dilated, void of recognition.
He sat up with a guttural roar, a purely reflexive action, and his hand shot out, wrapping around Athena's throat.
