APEX - Season 2

Ch. 26: Antidotes and Anti-Mates

Calla

My eyelids felt like they were being weighed down by tiny dumbbells. Propping my elbow on the table, I slumped my head against my hand. It was beyond time to call it a night. For days, I'd been researching, hoping to find an anecdote to the poison Rhys had likely been given. On top of my upcoming mating with Aamon and the referendum, Rhys remained unwell. He was good at hiding it, even from me. But after sex the night before, it was clear his energy was being drained far faster than it should have been. That's when he'd sprung another whopper on me, right before passing out.

"I might be dying," he said.

It was just like him to play up the drama. "I told you; I'm going to find a cure for the poison."

"That's not what I meant. I had bloodwork done. The doctor thinks I might..."

He closed his eyes and I assumed he was going to leave me hanging for the next eight hours, but then he opened them again. "It could be poison that's making me feel this way, but it could be a rare blood disease. That's what the doctor said. I'll find out for sure soon."

"What?" Okay, now I was beginning to think he was underestimating the drama. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"It's not like we don't have bigger problems."

"Having a terminal illness is a pretty big problem."

"Let's not think about it," he said, closing his eyes again. "I shouldn't have said anything."

After that, he was dead to the world for the night, but after that conversation, sleep escaped me. I stayed up late, researching werewolf diseases as well as poison antidotes. There was nothing I could do about the first issue, but I was determined to find an antidote if there was one.

I began emailing scientists: A human man in Nova Scotia I'd read an article about once who specialized in poisons used in twentieth century warfare. A werewolf woman in Argentina who studied weapons used against werewolves throughout history. A group in Japan who developed offensive weaponry for shifters in areas of the world where they were persecuted. That group seemed the most promising, but now, over a day later, I'd already heard back from everyone I'd contacted, including them, and no one knew of any antidote to the poison used in Kenya in the nineteen fifties.

I sighed. Exhausted, the best thing I could do was call it a night. But I couldn't escape the troublesome feeling that I was missing something obvious. Somewhere in the back of my brain, I had heard a minute piece of information that would lead me in the right direction, only I couldn't seem to access it.

Instead of going to bed, I poured myself another cup of coffee. Rhys was suffering. I couldn't give up on my mate—he was more important than a full night of sleep. Sitting back down in front of my laptop, my phone buzzed.

A text from Genevieve.

She sent a picture of herself in workout clothes, standing outside of a posh apartment building that I knew from social media she lived in and her father owned.

About to go for a run, but wanted to let you know I'm thinking of you. Tobias filled me in. Love you so much xoxoxo

I smiled, remembering how jealous I'd been of her when we'd first met. Now, I was honored to call her a friend. Perhaps, when all of this was over and by some miracle, we'd come out of it all in one piece, Rhys and I would visit her in Paris. What a romantic trip that would be. Genevieve had already promised to host us, as well as give us a tour of her family's business enterprises.

My fingers froze over my phone. Without responding to her, I set it down and went back to my laptop. This was it—the minute tidbit I'd been forgetting about. When I'd thought Genevieve was in love with Rhys, I'd researched her and her family, which had only made me more unbearably and irrationally jealous, but it had been during my snooping into her life that I had come across...what was it exactly?