The lab was cold. Stainless steel and blue LED lights. It smelled of antiseptic and ozone.
Dr. Evans pulled the needle from Aria's arm. He pressed a cotton ball to the puncture wound.
Kane stood in the corner. He had been scanning the room since they arrived, checking the exits, checking the labels on the chemical bottles. He was vibrating with a suppressed energy.
Aria sat on the edge of the exam table. Her feet dangled. She felt small.
Dr. Evans walked over to the computer. He waited for the results to print. The whir of the printer was agonizingly slow.
He ripped the page off and turned to Aria. His face was grave.
"It's a neurotoxin," he said. "Derived from the Cerbera odollam plant. The suicide tree."
Kane stepped forward. "How much?"
"Enough to kill a horse," Evans said. "But the dosage seems to be... staggered. You've been ingesting small amounts for months, building a partial tolerance, but you took a massive hit about twelve hours ago."
"How long do I have?" Aria asked.
"Without treatment? Organ failure in seven days. Maybe less."
Kane's hand clenched into a fist. Aria heard the knuckles crack.
"Fix it," Kane said. It wasn't a request.
"I can start a chelation protocol," Evans said. "But it's brutal. It strips everything from your blood. Calcium, magnesium, the poison. It will feel like your bones are melting."
"Do it," Aria said.
"And," Evans added, looking at Kane, "she needs dialysis. Daily. I don't have a unit here."
"I need to be functional," Aria said. "I have a company to save."
"You need to be in an ICU," Evans argued.
"No hospitals," Aria said. "If I go to a hospital, the board declares me incapacitated. Chloe wins."
Aria looked at Kane. "I need to survive this."
"You will," he said.
Evans prepared the injection. "This is going to hurt."
He wasn't lying.
The moment the liquid entered Aria's vein, it felt like liquid fire. She gasped. Her back arched. A scream tore from her throat.
Kane was there instantly. He pulled Aria's head against his stomach. He covered her ears with his large hands, muffling the sound of her own agony.
"I've got you," he murmured into her hair. "I've got you."
Aria grabbed his shirt. She twisted the fabric until her fingers turned white. She cried. She shook. The pain was absolute.
It lasted for thirty minutes. When it faded, Aria was limp. A wet rag.
Kane picked her up. He carried her out to the car.
"Don't tell anyone," Aria whispered against his chest.
He placed her in the seat and buckled her in. He walked around to the driver's side.
He didn't start the car immediately. He pulled out his phone. He dialed a number.
"It's me," he said. "I need a portable dialysis unit. High flow. Delivered to the penthouse. Now."
Pause.
"I don't care about the cost or the method. I need it in one hour. Handle it."
He hung up.
Aria stared at him. "Who was that?"
Kane looked at Aria. His eyes were hard, guarded. "We're allies now, right? Don't ask about the sourcing."
A weak smile tugged at Aria's lips. "Okay."
They drove into the night. Aria's phone lit up on the dashboard.
Jordan calling.
Aria stared at the name. The man who had poisoned her. The man who had burned her living will.
She reached out and pressed 'Block'.
