Page 194 of Victorious

“No,” he answered, climbing out of the back. “I didn’t kill the security yet.”

“Looks like someone beat you to it.”

From the corner of his eye, Victor saw Mitch tip two more of those black pills into his palm. He caught Victor’s eye, and shrugged as if to say, What do I have to lose?

But the answer was: too much.

“You stay here,” said Victor.

“Like hell,” Mitch shot back. “I’m not leaving her again.” His tone said this was a battle not worth fighting. Even if they’d had the time.

Victor sighed and looked to June. “You stay together then.”

She rolled her head on her shoulders, and as she did, she changed, swapping the lanky brunette for a broad-shouldered soldier, nearly as big as Mitch. “You want me to babysit?” she asked in a deep voice.

“I want you to find Sydney, and get the fuck out,” said Victor. “But try to keep him alive while you’re at it.” With that he started toward the building.

“What about you?” asked Mitch.

He looked back over his shoulder. “I’m going to find the new head of EON.”

“And do what?” asked June.

Victor smiled. “Cut it off.”

XXXVIIINOW. THEN.

1 DAY BEFORE THE END

LOCKLAND UNIVERSITY

VICTOR Vale cut through the water like a knife.

It was early afternoon, and he had the pool to himself. Which was how he preferred it. The water muffled the outside world, and the lack of other bodies, other nervous systems, meant he could focus on his own. On the simple, physical effort of slicing through the water, the metronomic tempo of his breathing and his heart.

His watch chimed, signaling it was nearly time for his next dose. When he finished his lap, he levered himself out of the pool, and slung a towel around his shoulders, padding barefoot toward the locker room.

As he walked, he rolled his head on his shoulders, circled his wrists, shaking out the strain. He was tired, but the fatigue was oddly welcome, that of a body put to use. Dani was right—his heart was growing stronger, his limits not erased, but edging outward, day by day. She was still trying to temper his expectations, still insisting there was only so much he could do, but Victor felt better than he had in years. Decades.

He rinsed off, then passed the bank of mirrors, pausing at the sink to consider his reflection. The changes to it. Victor wasn’t—and would never be—a perfect specimen, but the once-deep hollows in his cheeks were shallower, and lean muscle corded over his shoulders and across his ribs.

There was another marked difference, one less welcome than the rest.

His eyes.

Angie used to say they were the brightest thing about him, the only slice of color in his life, the cold blue standing out against his white-blond hair and black attire. But his eyes were no longer one shade, but two. A strand of violet curled around his pupils, the same vivid color as the liquid in the cartridge.

So far, it appeared to be the only side effect of Dani’s serum. Which made it, as far as Victor was concerned, an easy price to pay. Especially compared to the alternative.

Behind him, a black shape padded between the rows of lockers. Victor twitched the dial in his mind, the ache in his muscles sharpening enough to make Dol disappear. It had been months since he rid his body of Haverty’s drug, but the hallucinations lingered.

His watch chimed a second time as he was buttoning his shirt.

Victor fetched the disc out of his bag, and brought it to his lips, inhaled the violet mist. There was no power spike, no sense of equilibrium restored, but only because it no longer faltered.

He tapped his watch, and the timer automatically reset.

Eight hours—that was currently what each dose gave him. He’d worried that the efficacy might fade, the window shrink. But so far, Dani’s compound was proving far more stable than Haverty’s had ever been, and Victor had reason to believe that—