Chapter 11
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Edwin froze in shock, the doorbell slipping his mind entirely.
Kyle lingered right beyond the entrance and caught the frantic summons, charging inside without delay.
His typical laid-back charm had vanished completely.
Even facing vast enemy armies, Edwin stayed unflappable—his sharp tone signaled grave trouble now.
With Kyle present, Edwin gently shifted Rina to lean back against the cushions.
Under his breath, he issued a directive.
“Carolina Diaz consumed wine spiked with truth serum before collapsing. Bring the healer without pause.”
“Out of nowhere like that—”
“Details after she revives. Go now!”
Kyle bolted to retrieve the guild’s on-site expert.
Edwin pressed fingers beneath Rina’s nostrils.
Relief washed over him—her breaths came soft but even.
While he fumbled to find her wrist, a panel in the wall slid aside, revealing the physician alongside Kyle.
Azella, winded from her lab dash, steadied herself briefly before approaching the limp form on the couch.
Edwin relayed the situation once more.
“Wine tainted with truth serum led to her sudden blackout.”
“Dosage amount?”
“A whole bottle holding roughly half the usual measure.”
“Typically harmless. Our formula’s designed that way.”
She drew a glowing diagnostic device and swept it over Rina, then shared her assessment.
“Reaction to the blue dragonfly extract, worsened by the liquor overload.”
Scribbling observations, she remarked on Rina’s uncommon physiology.
Kyle and Edwin eased as Azella’s matter-of-fact intrigue took hold.
“Remedy plan?”
“Antidote injection, followed by rest spanning three or four days. She’ll rebound strong.”
“Any residuals?”
Pausing her notes, Azella eyed Edwin’s rare intensity.
“Our oversight entirely,” he admitted swiftly.
“Client endangered demands accountability.”
Kyle, warmed by their earlier coffee exchange, murmured agreement.
Azella dipped her head in approval.
“One antidote vial remains handy. Fresh prep would’ve delayed us.”
She soon reappeared from her workspace clutching a slender vial of pale red elixir.
Tenderly, she administered it drop by drop, as with an ailing infant.
The narrow container drained in moments.
A final tool scan complete, she faced the men.
“Revival in roughly half an hour. Signal if changes arise—I’ll brew more nearby.”
The panel swallowed her return to the lab.
Kyle and Edwin posted themselves beside the couch, watchful over Rina.
Thirty minutes stretched endlessly ahead.
Rina drained the final sips to stall, then grasped the truth.
Poison coursed through her veins.
Her sight distorted wildly, heart pounding then dragging in odd fits.
Fever scorched within while extremities chilled to numbness.
Awareness flickered once before darkness claimed her fully.
Duration blurred into nothing.
A glacial rush, like head dunked in frost, jolted her awake.
Everett and Kyle filled her vision.
Suspects in her poisoning loomed perilously near.
“Save me,” she breathed.
Intended as a cry, it emerged a fragile murmur.
Their eyes locked above her in that instant.
Kyle, warmer presence, offered a calming grin and words.
“Steady yourself, Ms. Diaz. Simple mishap, nothing more.”
Rina’s mind reeled at the claim, convinced their lethal scheme had stumbled.
The accusation spilled forth unchecked.
“You call a murder plot gone wrong a mishap?”
Horror struck—why voice suspicions to them outright?
Somehow the impulse overrode caution entirely.
Her palms sealed her lips tight.
Kyle observed with gentle worry.
“Remedy’s still settling in.”
“Normalcy returns shortly.”
“What poison did you slip?”
Hands dulled the sound little against close ears.
Everett broke his quiet watch.
“Your unexplained guild ties left questions hanging.”
“Truth serum for that? Reckless! Death felt certain!”
They sidestepped her venomous critique.
“Archives show no prior contact from you. Clarity fosters alliance, right?”
Rina crushed her tongue to silence the reincarnation secret bubbling up.
Temporary ache beat madness accusations.
“We’ll hold off probing. Recover here; transport awaits your readiness.”
Consideration amid her desperate restraint touched her.
Everett drew Kyle away, leaving solitude.
Tongue throbbed near rupture. Truth serum proved this an espionage hub.
Harsh undercurrents pulled her further in.
Antidote worked, curbing runaway confessions.
Faint fever echoes persisted, which she weathered patiently.
A rap echoed from the café entrance.
Dreading loose words, she replied curtly. Everett slipped through.
“Recovering well?”
“You fed toxin, chased with cure…”
Lips snapped shut, damage voiced.
Everett’s quiet amusement surfaced.
“Progress like yours promises swift clearance.”
His palm extended invitingly.
“Night deepens toward curfew. Overnight option exists, though unappealing likely.”
Her bed summoned insistently.
“Gratitude, Mr. Rojas.”
Fingers met his.
He paused sharp, intrigue flashing.
“Rojas now?”
“Isn’t that your name?”
His laugh softened.
“Pattern emerges. Trivial anyway.”
“Carry on if you wish—just elevate to Sir.”
“Certainly, Sir Rojas.”
Café glow faded behind as curfew shadows cloaked the lanes.
Deserted paths twisted familiar into alien.
Rina stole sidelong looks amid languid steps.
Talk skimmed thin ice before silence dominated.
Everett responded direct yet guarded.
Connie’s welfare and discharge timeline surfaced briefly, then ebbed.
Unease thickened the air.
Grisel Park marker gleamed ahead at last.
Relief lightened her guarded features; Everett’s chuckle escaped.
“What’s so amusing?”
“Night avenues unnerve you, yet Grisel Park draws no flinch.”
“Residing there cures such fears.”
“Free of spectral visitors in slumber?”
His banter aimed playful, yet gravity crept in.
Awareness dawned tardily; tension etched his face.
