The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)(88)

“It hurts,” Derek explained, seeing her staring at the restraints. “But we can’t have you thrashing about when it happens or you may rip out one of the transfusion lines. If you did, that’s the end of it.”

“I see.” Florence was happy to have an explanation, even if it was a miserable one.

“Unfortunately, we can’t give you anything for the pain.” He motioned for the chair. “Since the blood is being purged and cycled through your body, anything we could give would be out in minutes.”

“I understand.” She sat down, willing herself to be still as he began working on the restraints.

Derek paused at her wrist. His steam colored eyes drifted up to her. “It’s okay to be scared.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You’re trembling.” He shook his head, tightening the leather around her wrists. “What made you want to be a Chimera? To propel engines?”

He was taking note of her Ravens’ Guild Mark. “I’m actually a Revo.”

“Oh? I bet you fool a lot of people then.” He accepted her declaration. It was something that Florence wasn’t used to.

“I do,” she agreed hesitantly.

“If it gets too much, we’ll give you something to clamp down on so you don’t bite your tongue off.” His hands tightened the strap around her forehead.

“Is that a legitimate concern?” If she was only trembling before, she was shaking now. Every muscle in her body was tense. “I don’t understand this—what’s about to happen?”

Derek paused what he was doing with the brass mechanism at the chair’s side. “We slowly begin to take out your blood. I’ll monitor your vitals; the more blood we can take out without completely killing you, the better.”

“What’s the difference between ‘completely’ and ‘incompletely’ killing someone?”

He chuckled. “Right, sorry, Revo… ‘Completely’ meaning that your body has gone far enough into failure that magic alone will not be able to revive you.”

She made a noise of comprehension.

“At which point, we begin introducing Dragon blood, slowly. It mixes with what’s left of your blood and your body acclimates to the magic.”

“That’s why Chimera blood is black and not gold or red?”

“Exactly.” Derek smiled reassuringly. After the vote of confidence from the Vicar he had warmed up significantly, and Florence was never more grateful than she was in that second of sitting in the chair waiting.

“So, why does it hurt?” Nothing sounded particularly terrible. Even if he cut her to make her bleed, she’d endured worse pains.

“Fenthri bodies aren’t made for housing magic. I’m sure you’re familiar with forsaken Chimera?” She nodded and he continued. “When the Dragon blood is first introduced and hits your system, it’s…well, for lack of better words, killing you. But it begins to heal you almost at the same time. Since we do it slowly, it doesn’t actually result in death.” His voice trailed off and Florence’s mind treacherously filled in “normally” for him at the end.

“So I’m dying and being revived a bunch, in a row.” Florence looked at the ceiling, bracing herself. “Well, I’ve never died before, so at least I get to cross that off my list.”

Derek laughed. “You’re an odd one, aren’t you?”

“That’s what you get for planning to run away from your guild at thirteen, doing so at fourteen, meeting the White Wraith, and becoming her explosives resource in the span of two years.”

“Yes, that would do it.” He processed her words for a long moment. “The White Wraith, the spurn of Dortam?”

“The same,” Florence affirmed.

“Never imagined I’d see a legendary fighter of Dragons keeping the company of one.”

“Cvareh isn’t like most Dragons.” Florence was instantly defensive. She was exhausted on his behalf of everyone assuming the worst of him.

“Oh, I know.”

“You do?”

He nodded.

“How?”

“Because not most Dragons willingly offer their blood to make a Chimera.”

“What?”

“What do you think we’ve been waiting on?”

Within the next minute, the door opened and Cvareh appeared. Sure enough, he sat down on a small stool next to her. Florence looked on in shock.

“You’re giving me your blood?” She wished she could find more eloquent words, but all else failed her.

“Technically, I’ve been doing that for some time already.”

“But that was necessary.”

“As is this.” He leaned against the wall. “I’m the one who brought you here, who took you from your home. I feel responsible for the fact that you’re in that chair.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I do.”

“Well you shouldn’t—” Her reason was interrupted by the needle that pierced the flesh of her forearm. A second punctured her bicep a little further up and the machine at her side began to whir.

“You’re going to start feeling sleepy,” Derek informed her. “But I need you to stay awake as long as possible.”