"And yet you are compelled to mimic life," Penelope had said, looking him square in the eyes. "By taking that pulse of life into yourself."
"By drinking blood," he corrected her. "Why are you so indirect?"
"It is not about being indirect. It is about looking deeper. Drinking blood and taking the pulse of life into yourself are not the same things. One is a practical truth while the other is a philosophical one," the intensity in her words had grown, and one of her hands came up to emphasize her point.
"You are helpful," he finally said after gazing at her blankly for several moments. His lips turned up in amusement.
The passion that inflated her lungs, preparing to further argue this philosophical perspective, slowly eased out. He had punctured it by framing her as helpful—like how a tool was helpful. At least he didn't simply say she was amusing. Maybe she could actually help him learn something about himself and the errors in how he had approached this whole death wish of his.
What Penelope feared was that he did not actually wish to die but only thought he did. It seemed possible that he was too amused with this whole alyko operation to truly desire to reach its end point. If that were the case, hopefully he would only realize it after he was made vulnerable—after August had succeeded at giving him the life he thought he wanted.
But regardless of whether Zagan truly wanted to die, Penelope was going to help him get there. Unfortunately it meant trying out his way first before she could persuade him otherwise. And his way meant keeping the mates from remembering each other for the time being.
She tried to tell him that August wouldn't be as strong in her mind, her will, her abilities or anything else unless she had that conscious connection to Graeme. August's whole being was entangled with her mate's. It was the truest expression of herself, and the well of that truth would be where her power came from. There was no keeping that hidden from her forever—to try would only weaken her anyway.
But Zagan was used to working on his terms. He couldn't see that his insistence on the mates forgetting each other was also an insistence for power and control. And as long as he prioritized those two things, he was not truly seeking death, and ultimately he would not succeed in achieving it.
But maybe Penelope wouldn't have to convince him of that anyway. She stared back at Zagan now in the dark lab, watching him regain control over his thirst.
Now that she had spoken to August, it was clear August would regain her memory in no time. She was already questioning the validity of Penelope's explanation about the events leading up to this. If the enchantment had truly worked like it was meant to, August would question nothing. The mind became completely malleable to accept explanations for that which had been taken from it. But that was not the case for August. Her mind was resisting. And that meant this whole experiment of Zagan's would need to be revised on Penelope's terms once August came back to herself.
"What do you mean it's not the blood?" Zagan's gravely voice suddenly shook her from her thoughts.
"What?" she asked, her thoughts racing over what they had just been speaking about.
"You said, 'It's not the blood,'" he reminded her, glaring at her now out of the corner of his eye. He was still thirsty. It appeared he was weak because of it.
"I meant that… you won't find what you seek in drinking blood," she gulped, trying to resist the instinctual urge to slide away from him with his one predatory eye on her like that.
"I know that," he gritted his teeth and stared instead at the counter in front of him.
She turned to focus on what she had been doing, pipetting August's blood into separate small vials for testing before taking them to separate diagnostic machines. She was going to make sure that August was healthy while she was here. That was their best chance.
"Will you be sequencing her genome?" he asked.
"No," she chuckled, typing in information on one of the diagnostic machines.
There was silence that followed, and despite trying to ignore his presence, the silence became increasingly tense. Finally, she snuck a peak at him and saw those emotionless, gray eyes staring blankly at her again.
"Give me the blood," he said so deathly low it made her shiver.
"T-the blood?" she stuttered, looking from him to the large sample of blood that she had gotten from August.
He smiled. "It's your blood or hers, I'm afraid."
"Have you considered raising rabbits or something to drink from?" she asked, grabbing the vial.
"What do you think the alyko are?" he asked, leaning closer to her now. "They are my rabbits."
Penelope dropped the vial, causing it to shatter and send a pattern of gruesome red across the tan stone floor.
"I'm sorry," she gasped, crouching down with a towel to quickly wipe it up.
Zagan stayed frozen in place, only his eyes moving as they narrowed in on her cleaning below him. She had dropped it on purpose, and he let her. Just as he was letting her clean it up instead of stopping her and insisting on stealing a taste of the Luna's blood.
This was a game for both of them, but he wasn't sure what the purpose was or who would win—only that for some reason he enjoyed playing it. He would let her win this one.
When Penelope looked back up, Zagan was gone. He had slipped out of the room without her even realizing it. The way he was able to move so quickly and deftly was terrifying. At least she had kept him from sampling August's blood for now.
Penelope's forehead furrowed in worry as she recalled something August had said.. There was one more blood test Penelope needed to run, and she didn't want Zagan to know about it.
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