Black Riders. Samuel I Sinclair

Black Riders - Samuel I Sinclair


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another smaller tumor growing inside your skull,” the sister with the red sash said with sorrow.

      “So on top of the one crushing my heart, I now have one crushing my brain as well?”

      “It isn’t likely you will survive long enough for the one in your head to be a true problem.”

      “What!” he exclaimed in mixed terror and shock. “I thought you would be able to remove the one that is crushing my heart!? Or if that didn’t work, you would extract the tumor and my heart and give me a replacement.”

      “That was the plan, but”—she paused a moment—“it has increased in size at a greater rate than we had expected. At this point, you have, at best, one full moon cycle before suffering permanent failure.”

      “Is there anything you can offer me then?” he questioned in a growing livid state. “How long will it take for you to find a donor?”

      “As we have said before, you have a rare blood type. And finding a noncontaminated match is more difficult than you can imagine.”

      Adrian knew this speech to the letter and knew it was hopeless to continue, but he had to play the part a bit more because he had one final hope.

      “Then what am I to do?”

      4

      “I’m afraid there is nothing we can do at this point but wait and hope.”

      He said nothing for a short while and considered all the facts of his situation. He didn’t hear the sister speak again until he felt a hand touch his leg.

      “I’m sorry,” he said, returning to reality. “I was lost in my thoughts. What did you say?”

      “I said I brought Christine from the church to help you through this time, should you need her.”

      “My place is by your side,” Christine added with a smile.

      “I’ll give you two a few minutes alone to talk. Just knock on the door, and a sister will come to escort you out.”

      She bowed and left the room, closing the door behind her.

      “So, what do you plan to do now?” Christine asked, breaking the silence once the door had closed.

      “I’m going to die my way and not the way that bastard in The Lower World wants.”

      Christine held back both a smile and something that was deeper. It seemed to be annoyance.

      “Come now. There is no need for you to make such a drastic choice such as that,” Christine advised calmly.

      “Don’t you know who I am?” Adrian asked. She seemed about to speak, and then stopped. “Exactly!” he said, rage building inside of him. “I have my work, and I cannot die before it is done, and now I have almost no time left.”

      Christine made no reply. She simply smiled a devious smile.

      “If you are only here to counsel me and make me feel at peace, then just go, Miss Christine,” he said, composing himself.

      Without another word, he knocked on the door and left the room. Christine still inside.

      5

      He had barely left the main entrance when he heard the ward’s doors open and a familiar voice calling out to him. He didn’t want to deal with anyone at the time, but out of respect for her and what she does.

      “What is it that you are going to try on me now, Christine?” Adrian said in annoyance.

      “I brought you a way out.” She panted, clearly having rushed to follow him.

      “And what way out would that be?” he asked.

      She held out a small glass vial. It was filled with a clear liquid.

      “Drink this and you will fall into a permanent slumber,” she offered, still smiling.

      “Where did you get this?” he questioned.

      Her eyes darted left to right as though she was trying to make certain she wouldn’t be heard.

      “Can I tell you a little secret?” she finally whispered.

      He nodded.

      “I work for someone better and stronger than anyone you could possibly imagine.”

      “Who?”

      She smiled.

      “That is something that I cannot say. At least not right now. So do you want it?”

      He hesitated, taking the time to consider her offer.

      “I cannot make such a decision so quickly. Give me until tomorrow to contemplate.”

      “A cautious answer, but this is the only time that I can offer you this.”

      He sighed and felt a pain in his chest.

      “Perhaps you could pray for me when I go then.”

      She did nothing but smile.

      “I thank you for granting me peace and passage.”

      “I will need to collect the vial so that royal guards don’t learn the formula.”

      Adrian was suspicious about this until he had a thought that would make someone he knew very happy.

      “If this is the way to complete peace and a chance at safe passage, then let it be done.”

      Christine gave him a look of satisfaction.

      “But not here,” he added, looking around the area. “I want to be surrounded by my favorite music and favorite drink when it is done.”

      Christine nodded.

      “Quite respectable. I have no other engagements for the rest of the evening, so we may do as you please,” she replied, hiding the vial in her sleeve.

      “Then please follow me.”

      6

      He led her to the monorail station, to which they traveled back to the East Residential District in complete silence. They remained this way until they reached his home.

      “Here we are then,” he said wearily. “The last time I will ever come here.”

      He heard Christine mumble something under her breath, something that to him sounded like “So you think.”

      But that was probably someone else passing by he hadn’t noticed.

      They entered his home.

      “Oh my,” Christine said. “You have a lovely home.”

      “It is eclectic, but I find harmony in the chaos,” he replied with a slight grin. “Now, please get comfortable while I prepare a drink.”

      “I would like to point out that this is tasteless, so it wouldn’t ruin you drink.”

      She held out the vial.

      He went into his kitchen and fixed himself a drink, adding the vial’s contents into it, and looked back at Christine. He raised the glass and gave a toast.

      “To the adventure.”

      “And to your new life,” Christine added.

      He was about to drink when he stopped a moment and looked back at her.

      “How rude of me,” he said, putting his glass down. “I neglected to pour you something.”

      “No need,” Christine replied, clearly anxious about him stopping. “I have something for myself.”

      She removed a flask from her other sleeve, opened the lid, and took a drink.

      I can’t get her off her guard, he thought. There will be no way for me to get her relaxed enough to make her Izac’s next plaything.

      It


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