6A/N: This gets into the 'newer' stuff of the series. So. Whatever. I don't know if I'm gonna keep posting this here as it doesn't seem to be doing too well here, so I'll probably wind up deleting it and just keeping it for myself lol. So there's that. Anywho.
Chapter length: 6030
Song listening to: Heathens by Twenty One Pilots
Onward!
CHAPTER FIVE – Triggered
Sean Tobias entered the hotel room, smirking to himself. Thus far his plan was working, and he was getting further into his target's head. Soon he could complete his job and leave this state, and head back to warmer temperatures. He preferred the warmth of the southwestern coast, compared to the landlocked middle.
Still, it was too much money to turn down, especially when he did need it.
The room held two beds. He sat on the nearest one, glancing across the room toward the second bed, where a young girl sat. Her damp hair fell down her shoulders in waves, the red almost black in the dim lighting cast upon them by the flickering images on the TV. She wore a plain white, sleeveless nightgown which fit her slim form nicely, showing the curvature of her budding form.
At fifteen, she'd been a fledgling, still more child than woman.
Now, at seventeen, she was turning into a young swan.
At first Sean refused to undertake the task of not only kidnapping this teen from an orphanage, but also keeping an eye on her, and keeping her fed, trained, and happy. His employer said she could be a useful asset in the future, if properly trained, though she would never be able to fully control her ability. The learning period had passed before Sean even found her; she would never control it without him nudging her mind.
'Happy' was a relative term, as well. She wasn't happy about being taken against her will, nor with the fact they traveled a lot, nor was she happy with their activities. He could make her happy, though.
"Blaise," he called, when she seemed content to ignore him.
At seventeen, she was the embodiment of rebellion, if he didn't nudge her.
Gray eyes lifted, and narrowed at him, the light from the TV catching on them briefly. Her pale skin contrasted against the red strands encircling her face.
"Hello, Blaise."
She remained silent.
He lifted a brow expectantly.
She inhaled. "Hello, Sean."
"I see you showered while I was gone."
She nodded, and said nothing.
"You know I don't like you showering without me."
She stiffened, eyes narrowing once more.
"But as I've had a decent night so far, I'll allow it this once," he said, waving his hand dismissively, and she relaxed somewhat. "I may have need of you soon, though. This dog is becoming quite the nuisance."
"I don't hurt animals," she said flatly. "Not even for you."
"Dog-man," he corrected, rolling his eyes. "He's a person, don't worry."
One side of her mouth inched upward in a sneer, but she carefully schooled her expression and nodded. He knew she didn't like this idea any better, but she knew better than to argue. Good. After spending two years with her, it was good to know some things sank in eventually.
"Kiss me," he said.
She blinked and froze, eyes wide. "I really don't-" she started.
He focused his mind onto hers, ensnaring it with years of practice. "You want to."
Her posture stiffened further, and those gray eyes clouded. "I want to," she echoed, and then stood, walking the two steps between the beds, and pressed her mouth to his. He pulled her closer.
If he was stuck looking after her, and taking her with him everywhere, he deserved some kind of payment. He fisted a hand in her damp red hair and twisted them until she was flat on the bed.
xXx
Cold.
Dark.
Wet.
"You're my favorite test subject."
Taylor's eyes opened, flinging him into consciousness. His pulse raced, leaving him breathless as he sat up, flinging himself onto his attacker, a snarl catching in his throat. Hands caught his flailing fists and he blinked a few times, a familiar voice easing through the fog in his brain, until finally, he blinked through the haze and caught sight of blue eyes staring back at him.
"Lo?" he murmured, tongue thick and heavy in his mouth. He ran said tongue over his sore gums; did he eat something sharp? This was why he steered clear from chips. "What happened?" He looked around, only then taking notice of his surroundings. Though familiar, it wasn't home.
The library.
His room at the library – small and confining. Usually stuffy and hot, too, though at the moment he felt cold. The covers fell away from him the moment he sat up, and he stared down at the pile resting across his lap, looking down his bare chest and stomach.
"Where's my shirt?"
"Are you with me, T?"
Taylor frowned, blinking at his friend. "Huh? Yeah, of course. Where's my shirt?"
He felt the lines tracing his stomach and chest. Lines he knew by sight and touch, knew the rough bumps, the white trace, knew it from memory and nightmares. Sometimes, at night, he was back there, on that table in the Cells, with that knife cutting into him again and again and again, with the drip-drip-drip of the IV and th-thud-th-thud-th-thud of his heart ringing in his ears.
Lo had seen some of the scars, of course, and he knew a little of what happened in the Cells, but that didn't mean Taylor was at all comfortable being shirtless.
"Where's my-" he started again.
Lo held out a clean shirt.
Taylor snatched the black shirt and pulled it over his head, feeling his pulse relax after it settled over his skin.
"What happened?" he asked. "Why's my mouth hurt?"
"Taste my emotions."
"Oh. Right. Psychic."
Taylor sighed and did as Lo asked, focusing on the familiar concoction that was his friend's emotional vocabulary. It was getting easier, he had to admit, to pick out Lo's emotions. That was Corbin's intention all along, he knew, but that didn't really make him any more comfortable with it.
It took a bit of focusing, but once he focused, the concoction was overwhelming and left him gagging. "Oh, fuck. What the fuck are you feeling? That's…"
Barbeque sauce?
Way too much caramel frosting mixed with bitter coffee…
And so many other things…
"What happened?" Taylor asked again.
Lo exhaled loudly. "So you can taste my emotions now?"
"Yes, man, but-"
Blue eyes glared at him. "You blacked out, and then woke up a few times but you weren't fucking coherent, and you tried to fucking bite me."
"I what?"
"You passed out on the stairs, do you remember that?"
Taylor struggled to think through the confused fog in his brain. "I think I had a killer headache…?"
"Corbin 're-configured' the library," Lo said, "so the rogue shouldn't be able to mess with you here, again."
"He what now?"
"He's an energy alter," Lo said impatiently, but Taylor just woke up so Lo could get over it, "so he can keep out unwanted energy, like the psychic's probing hooks. It's time consuming, and exhausting for him, but you've been out for days, T."
Taylor winced. "How pissed is he, exactly?"
"He's not pissed."
"Yeah right. I'm beyond useless right now."
The hot peppers of irritation stung his tongue. "You're not useless, you're being targeted. There's a difference." Lo drew in a breath. "How do you feel?"
"Fine."
"The truth, T."
Taylor shrugged. "I have a headache, and I wanna brush my teeth because your emotions taste like shit, but other than that I'm okay. Honest."
Lo nodded. "We're gonna be staying here until further notice."
"You don't have to. I'm being targeted, not you."
He knew how much Lo hated being anywhere but the apartment. It was a territorial dog thing. Taylor didn't like it much, either, but he had to stay here, and Lo didn't.
Lo shook his head and got to his feet. "There's toothpaste in the restroom. It's not cinnamon, but it's something. I'd also recommend a shower."
Taylor's nose wrinkled. "Are you saying I smell?"
"Just a suggestion."
"Rude," Taylor said, smirking. "Thanks, Lo."
Lo nodded and took his leave, closing the door behind him with a quiet snap.
Taylor threw the covers off him and shivered slightly as he crawled out of bed. Vertigo slammed into him and he staggered, leaning heavily against the bed briefly, before he managed to stand upright on his own. His head throbbed, but it was more of a dull ache and not that sharpness from before.
Why am I being targeted? I don't understand…
He'd never gone after a psychic before. He and Lo had never confronted one. He couldn't understand why one would be coming after him so aggressively, to lure him to another town, and then follow him back to the library of all places. Making him remember the Cells and everything… why? For what purpose?
He edged out of the room and made his way down the hallway toward the tiny bathroom with the stand-up shower. It barely fit one person, and his elbows and knees always seemed to hit every walls and knock every moveable item over, but at least he could shower. He did feel dirty, and a hot shower sound absolutely amazing right now. Plus, toothpaste. Thank the heavens for toothpaste, even if it wasn't the cinnamon swirl kind.
The beige wallpaper got boring, but hopefully they wouldn't be here much longer. Catching sight of himself in the mirror was disconcerting, as his skin was paler than he remembered, and the dark rings around his eyes whispered that his sleep wasn't very restful, despite lasting days. His black hair was an absolute mess, tangled and tussled in all directions, the very definition of bedrest. He wasn't unconscious, then, which gave merit to Lo's statement of him waking several times but not being coherent. Did that mean that he did try to bite his friend?
Why would I do that?
It didn't make any sense. He had no reason to bite anyone, least of all Lo. Even in the midst of a nightmare, that had never been his go-to response when awakened. He might punch Lo, or tackle him, but he'd never bite him. Was that why his mouth hurt?
What's wrong with me?
He shook his head, brushed his teeth with the 'normal gel' toothpaste, and then stripped for his shower.
The hot water felt great against his sore muscles. As it slid down his skin he shivered, reaching for the soap to wash the memories of the past few days away. He wasn't sure why he felt so dirty; he hadn't done much of anything except travel to a hotel, and then to the library. Everything else was mental.
He lathered himself up and then rinsed off, then reached for the shampoo and did the same with his hair, combing his fingers through the tussled strands, attempting to unknot them. It was a slow, delicate process. He thought about chopping it off, but Red always kept it cropped short in the Cells, and keeping it a little longer allowed him the taste of freedom, even if it was only in his head.
He lingered under the hot spray a little longer, until the water became cool, and then finally turned the shower off and climbed out, shivering with the sudden lack of heat. The room might be tiny, and it steamed up quickly, but it did have a vent for rapidly getting rid of the steam and heat. He reached for a towel and wiped the water droplets from his skin before rubbing his hair as dry as he could, flinging specks of water onto the mirror in the process. Then he stepped into clean clothes and exited the bathroom, making his way back toward his little room.
His stomach growled on his way there, but he didn't make a detour for food as he wasn't hungry, despite this fact.
The thought of food only made him nauseated.
His stomach would have to wait.
Corbin waited for him in his room.
"Hi," Taylor said, wincing. "Um… I'm sorry, about, uh… passing out on the stairs…"
Corbin shook his head. His emotions left an odd taste in Taylor's mouth, one he couldn't easily place. Calm, like water, yet… there was this aftertaste as well. Lingering, something thick… Cautious. Wary. Hesitant? Was that steak sauce? And frosting? That nasty concoction?
It left his head throbbing as he attempted to decipher the tastes. He ran his tongue across his teeth, aching for his cinnamon swirl toothpaste. "Is everything… okay?"
"What do you know about Dragon Teeth?"
Taylor's nose wrinkled. "Are dragons real?"
Are their teeth important?
Corbin sighed. "You misunderstand me."
"I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean."
"Dragon Teeth," Corbin repeated. "A Dragon Tooth."
"I don't understand. Are they important? Are dragon's real? Do people collect their teeth?"
"It's a species, a type of deviation, if you will," Corbin explained calmly. Always so calm. At least that taste overpowered that nasty concoction. Taylor swallowed. "Logan is a cynanthrope; that is his deviation. His species. You are an emotion taster, a synesthete. That is yours. There are Dragon Teeth."
"Okay," Taylor said slowly, frowning. "I'm with you so far."
"Dragon Teeth are very rare, and are thought to be extinct. They are also very, very dangerous, as they usually can't control themselves and tend to go on killing sprees when the bloodlust hits."
Taylor's head spun. "Well, it's good they're rare and extinct, then."
Corbin's eyes leveled on him. "I said they were thought to be extinct. Recently I have discovered otherwise."
Taylor winced. "Are we hunting one?"
"In a way, perhaps."
"Dragon Teeth are rare because the parents tend to kill each other during intercourse, due to the bloodlust they can't control," Corbin explained, sitting on the edge of Taylor's bed. His hands smoothed over the folded edge of Taylor's covers; did Corbin make his bed? "And then if a child is conceived, at the time of birth, the bloodlust usually demands the parent kill it unless another blood supply is on hand. If this happens, and the child lives, the child will grow as normal until the gene becomes active, and they will usually be raised in foster care. The gene becomes active in late childhood, or early adolescence, usually with a massacre as the child doesn't understand what is happening and is completely overwhelmed by the bloodlust."
"What… What is this bloodlust?" Taylor asked.
Corbin watched him for a moment, before he shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't answer that, as I don't know myself. No one really does, except Dragon Teeth, and those who are sane enough to ask aren't willing to tell, and those who aren't…"
"Aren't," Taylor finished, swallowing.
"Exactly."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I need you to understand Dragon Teeth, and how rare it is that they even exist, and how dangerous they are."
"Okay…"
"While not impossible for them to control their bloodlust, it is very unlikely, especially if they are not adequately trained at a young age, and since they are not usually raised by their biological parents… you can see how this can be difficult."
Taylor nodded.
"Most have to be put down, as they are too aggressive, and too dangerous."
"How are they so dangerous? I mean – I get that they have 'bloodlust', whatever that is. But I mean… what can they do? What makes them 'Dragon Teeth'?"
"I'm glad you asked," Corbin said. "They are called Dragon Teeth because it is believed they descended from dragons. The legend goes that dragons used to exist and were hunted to near extinction, and powerful mages made a pact with the last of the dragons, to grant them partial human form so they would not completely die out. This came with a price, which involved their sanity."
"Wait – so dragons are real?" Taylor asked, staring at his boss. He understood that there were deviants, and that people were born with mutations, or deviations, in their genetic code which granted them powers and abilities, such as Lo's cynanthropy or even his own emotion tasting abilities, but now dragons were real, too?
"I said it was a legend," Corbin said, quirking a brow at him. "I did not say it was true."
"So they're not real."
Good. I don't think I could handle it if it was true.
"So what are they, then?" he asked.
"They are dragon-like," Corbin informed him. "Some can hide this fact by changing at will, but some lose this ability when they lose control of themselves, and can never change back. Some can reverse the change and appear human, but still aren't fully in control of themselves. And then there are those who can control themselves but can't reverse their appearance, and then there are those who can do both."
"So it varies," Taylor clarified. "Great. Okay. What else? Besides 'dragon-like'?"
"They have scales, it has been said. Their skin becomes rough and thick, hard to penetrate, like armor. It has been said they heal quickly, too. They also run very hot; if you touch them you might burn your fingers. They do not breathe fire, thankfully. They have wings and can fly, and sharp fangs and claws, and they have the bloodlust though I cannot say exactly what that is. They are deadly and powerful, and strong."
"So, yeah, dangerous," Taylor surmised with a heavy sigh.
"Very," Corbin agree with a nod.
"So why tell me all of this? Are we going to hunt down a Dragon Tooth after this psychic is dealt with? Is Lo informed?"
Steak sauce, mixed with barbeque sauce and topped with caramel frosting entered his mouth, sitting hot and heavy on his tongue. He froze, staring at Corbin. His expression remained calm, even if his emotions spoke of regret. "Shortly after you started working for us, I discovered the genetic markers in your DNA."
"You… w-what?" Taylor asked, staring at his boss.
Corbin's hand smoothed back Taylor's covers again. His fingers curled around something, and suddenly Taylor stared down the barrel of a gun. He backed up a step, until his back hit the wall. "I hoped I was wrong. Dragon Teeth haven't been around in years; everyone thought they were extinct, but apparently at least one managed to survive. You're only half Dragon Tooth. Probably on your father's side. Your mother died in childbirth, correct?"
"I… I…"
"You've heard me explain how dangerous Dragon Teeth are."
"But I'm not…" Taylor's voice left him as his heart raced frantically in his chest. Corbin was still sitting so calmly on the bed; his posture so relaxed, yet his aim so certain. "I'm not dangerous. I'm not a Dragon Tooth!"
"You tried to bite Logan several times."
"I didn't!"
"You did," Corbin said calmly, surely. "I'm sorry, Taylor. I wished I was wrong. I reran the tests over and over, but the results don't lie. I hoped the gene was dormant, and that seemed to the be the case until the psychic started poking around in your head."
Taylor's head throbbed. "The… The psychic?" he whispered weakly, unable to think around the fact his boss was actually going to shoot him.
He could taste little but calm certainty from his boss.
His mind raced too much to decipher anything else.
"It seems he dislodged something, and now the gene is becoming active. You've already tried to bite Logan. It is only a matter of time before the bloodlust begins, and you have no prior training to control it. Could you live with yourself if you killed someone?"
Taylor winced. Corbin wasn't wrong. He didn't want to hurt anyone, and he definitely didn't want to kill anyone, but this was a lot to take in right now. He'd only just learned about Dragon Teeth. About their existence and everything, and now he'd learned he might possibly be one of them, and Corbin was threatening to kill him because he might hurt someone. Didn't he even get a say in this?
Corbin sighed, and for the first time there was a crack in his calm façade. The thick taste of regret consumed Taylor's mouth. "Could you live with yourself if you hurt Logan? If you killed him?"
Taylor flinched and looked away, because Corbin was completely right. No, Taylor would not be able to live with himself if that happened. If he hurt Lo. If he killed him. Lo was his best friend, and he'd never in a million years wish for anything bad to happen to him, least of all at his hand. And yet…
"I'm innocent," he said quietly, gaze focused on the ground. "It's not my fault who my parents are. It's not my fault what I am."
It's not my fault.
"You're still dangerous."
The absolutely certainty stole his breath away.
The sound of the hammer being pulled back left him gasping.
And then it all came crashing into him – the adrenaline, the fury, the anger.
How dare he.
This wasn't his fault.
He did nothing wrong.
He did absolutely nothing wrong!
A fog slid over his mind, a snake in his thoughts.
Cold, unforgiving, and red.
Everything was red.
A snarl emerged from his dry lips. His mouth throbbed, gums so sore, and his was so sharp, but nevertheless he stepped forward, shoving off the wall. The plaster gave way beneath his hand, leaving a hole in its wake. Dry wall clung to his fingers as he stepped toward Corbin and the gun aimed at him.
Corbin blinked at him. "I hoped I was wrong," he said regretfully, but his pulse raced. He wasn't sure how he knew this, but he did. He couldn't hear it, exactly but he could… feel it? How?
It didn't matter. Corbin was worried. Fearful, despite his calm exterior.
The fog took over.
Something sharp poked through his gums, cutting through the soft skin and piercing his tongue. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, overtaking his other senses in that moment. Red became everything; blood and red and Corbin was filled with the sticky substance. It coursed through him so quickly right now because he was fearful, despite how relaxed his posture was.
The weapon didn't matter.
A sharp twinge slipped through his spine. Another snarl slid out of his mouth, before a whine emerged as the twinge became stronger, and more pronounced. Bones shifted along his spine, moving beneath skin, until they burst forth in a bloody spray, tearing through flesh and clothes. The wings were slippery and wet, but also feathery, somehow. They flapped once, twice, and then he surged forward so quickly he knocked the gun from the man's grasp, wrapped a clawed hand around the front of the man's shirt, and threw the man to the ground all in one motion.
The gun skidded across the floor. The man hit the ground hard and lay there, looking up at him.
"Interesting," the man said in that calm voice of his, but the pulsating rush of his blood betrayed his fear.
His lips curled in a sneer, the sharp fangs slicing through his lips as he bared his teeth.
The door to the room burst open, then.
Blue eyes took notice of the scene and then focused on him. "Taylor?"
xXx
After leaving Taylor alone, Lo went to his room to sleep. He'd been awake for a while, sleeping little while Taylor remained incoherent in his sporadic wakefulness. Now that the emotion taster seemed better, he alerted Corbin that he was awake and coherent and no longer attempting to bite him, and then left to get some sleep himself.
Not even an hour later he was awoken by… something.
He honestly couldn't say what woke him.
All he knew was one minute he was sound asleep, the next his heart was racing and he wasn't sure why. For a long moment he lay staring up at the ceiling, before he finally crawled out of bed and made his way out of the room.
The route to Taylor's room at the library was familiar and easy, but his pulse quickened nevertheless, though he wasn't sure why. A knot formed in his stomach, and by the time he entered the room without knocking, he was already close to growling, hunched low and ready to attack. He took a quick look at the scene before him – Corbin on the ground and someone standing over him – before he really focused on the attacker and-
"Taylor?" he asked, so very confused, because that looked a lot like his friend. His roommate. His partner.
Same black hair, tussled and shaggy, curly from a recent shower.
Same sweet scent of blood. For some reason, Taylor's blood always smelled sweeter than everyone else's. Lo just chalked it up to the fact he was experimented on in the Cells for years, and that was just how his blood smelled now. He never really questioned it, and it helped him track Taylor easier if they got separated. That was definitely Taylor's blood he smelled right now, and he could see it coating Taylor's back and sides, coming from the wings sprouting from his back.
Taylor also now had sharp fangs visible as his lips pulled back in a fierce snarl, teeth bared. Not just the two canines were sharp; all of his teeth were. He'd bitten deep into his tongue and pierced his lips as well. That was some of the blood, and the reason his mouth was bloody. He hadn't bitten Corbin, at least.
His eyes were a deep blood red, instead of the usual golden brown.
That was the most unsettling, Lo decided.
"T," he said quietly, taking a careful step forward as Corbin sat up on the ground. A few feet away lay a gun, and that would need to be addressed, too, but that could wait. Right now he just needed to get Taylor back to normal, somehow. "Taylor. Easy, T. Easy." He held his hands up, palms open, showing how harmless he was, and offered a weak smile. "Easy, T. It's just me. Lo. You remember me, right?"
Deep red eyes blinked at him. The snarl cut off, at least, and those lips slid down those sharp fangs, partially covering them. Progress, he supposed.
"He is dangerous," Corbin said quietly, reaching for the gun as he got to his feet. His fingers curled around the weapon and he stood just behind Lo.
Lo scowled but didn't bother tossing the look at Corbin. Instead he forced the look from his features and smiled again at Taylor. "Easy, Taylor. Easy. Deep breaths. In, out. Breathe with me. You're okay. It's just me. Focus on me."
He took another tentative step forward.
Taylor snarled, wings flapping angrily, but he didn't surge forward.
He stayed put, which Lo took as a good sign.
"You wouldn't hurt me, right?" he said quietly. "We're friends. Hurting me would be rude. You wouldn't hurt me. Right, T? Easy. Take it easy."
Corbin stepped up next to him.
Lifted his arm.
Aimed.
"You shoot him," Lo said lowly, "and I will end you."
"He's dangerous," Corbin said again, levelly.
"I will kill you."
Corbin glanced out of him out of the corner of his eye. Lo held his gaze, certain that Taylor would not attack him. He seemed confused, and in all honestly had probably lashed out because Corbin had a weapon drawn on him. Lo couldn't blame him, even if he didn't fully understand what was happening himself.
Corbin sighed, and then squeezed the trigger.
The snarl which split through the air wasn't Taylor's, but Lo's as the bullet landed in Taylor's chest. Lo spun toward Corbin already swinging, easily knocking the gun from his grasp, Corbin's words lost to his ears as the heavy thud of a body sounded behind him, drowning out everything else save the sudden racing of his heart.
"-izer," Corbin was saying, and Lo felt so very, very drained.
Damned energy abilities… he managed to think, eyelids drooping.
"Tranquilizer," Corbin snapped, glaring at Lo until he focused on him, and held his gaze. "Tranquilizer," he said again. "I shot him with a tranquilizer. I wouldn't kill him, Logan. I know you are too attached."
" 'm not 'attached'," Lo argued tiredly.
"Yes, yes, cynanthrope complications, and all that," Corbin said, rolling his eyes. "However, I do realize that killing him would greatly complicate things for you and you do seem to be much friendlier when he is around, so I'm going to try and help him, if I can. So I tranquilized him, but I had to get him to overreact and change for me so I could ascertain his energy readings."
Lo scowled at him, feeling his energy slowly returning to him. He hated dealing with energy alters; it was why he hated arguing with Corbin. The man always won by pulling stunts like this. He spun around and looked at Taylor's motionless form sprawled on the ground in an uncomfortable pile, and noticed the dart sticking out of his chest. He stepped forward and plucked it from his skin.
"I wouldn't get that close if I were you," Corbin cautioned.
"I'm not you," Lo said, crushing the tip between his fingers. "What's this plan of yours? I'm assuming you have one, since you shot my partner without informing me."
"I do have a plan, Logan."
"Well, do share with the class."
"The attitude really isn't necessary. It isn't helpful, and I don't appreciate it nearly as much as Taylor, I'm sure."
"This is why I like him more."
Corbin sighed heavily, shaking his head. "I'm working on altering the energy of a specific item so that he may wear it and it can keep his energy levels maintained, so that he does not lose control. I feared this might happen one day, but I had hoped I was wrong. Nevertheless, I did plan ahead."
"And didn't think to tell either of us about it," Lo muttered, glaring at his boss. He and Corbin might be friends, and he did owe the guy a great deal, but that did not mean he appreciated all the guy's secrets. Corbin was on a need-to-know basis, and he never thought anyone but himself needed to know, it seemed. Lo shared Taylor's frustration with this.
"I wasn't certain it would come to fruition."
"That's no excuse," Lo snapped.
Corbin eyed him. "I understand you're angry with me, but arguing will not help Taylor, and that is your main concern, yes?"
Lo threw him a glare and knelt next to Taylor, careful not to hit his outstretched and yet partially folded wings. He trailed his fingers through the feathers, marveling at how soft they were, and how golden. Golden like Taylor's eyes usually were, and yet Taylor's eyes had been blood red instead. He added more pressure and felt the bones beneath the feathers, sinewy and wet, lightly coated in drying blood.
What did you do to yourself, T?
"Is this the psychic's doing?" he asked, watching as Taylor groaned, shifting somewhat, before he went motionless again.
"I believe so," Corbin said. "I think the Dragon Tooth gene remained dormant until the psychic began wandering through his head, and nudged it into awareness. I do not know if that was the psychic's intention, but it happened nevertheless. He is not a full-blooded Dragon Tooth, so he's not as dangerous, I suppose, but he's still lethal. You saw how he caved to the bloodlust. Even after rendering him unconscious, we might not be able to pull him out of it. I've heard stories of those who have never recovered from their first bloodlust."
The knot was back in Lo's stomach. He inhaled slowly and then shook his head. "Yeah, well, that won't happen to Taylor. Here, help me get him into bed."
He grabbed Taylor's arms, careful of his wings, and Corbin grabbed his legs, and together they maneuvered him onto the bed, settling him onto his stomach so that he didn't crush his newly formed wings. Lo wondered if Taylor would be able to reverse his wings; if not, he wasn't sure how Taylor would take that. He already hated tasting emotions. He missed being normal, and said tasting emotions wasn't natural because he got these abilities in the Cells of all places. What would he do if he couldn't ever go out in public again, because of these wings?
He'll get over it, Lo thought.
"We have much to discuss," Corbin said, once Taylor was settled.
They slipped out of his room, and Lo glared at the back of his boss's head on the way to his study. Corbin walked around his desk, and put down his gun, before he sighed and glanced at Lo.
"It's been a long week, and I realize you're tired. We all are. You should get some sleep. I'm going to work on the item I mentioned, but I have no proof that I can get it to work," Corbin warned, pouring himself a shot of whiskey. He kept a secret stash hidden in his lower left drawer that he thought Lo didn't know about, but Lo could smell it. He knew it was there, but never commented on it. He also knew, deep down, that Corbin knew he knew it was there, but he also never mentioned it.
He poured Lo a glass and passed it to him, and then poured himself a glass.
Lo downed his in one quick gulp, eager to rid himself of today's taste.
"I do hope you understand that he is dangerous, Logan."
"He's not dangerous," Lo said, sighing as he put his glass back down on the desk. Corbin refilled it instantly. "He's Taylor."
Taylor wasn't dangerous. He was an emotion taster, and he could be annoying at times, and he was Lo's best friend, but he wasn't dangerous.
"He is dangerous. I'm sorry you can't see that."
"He's not," Lo said, and Corbin filled him yet another glass.
The two drank in silence for a moment.
"If I cannot get the item to work, and Taylor loses control… then you know what we must do, Logan."
Corbin's words were quiet and soft, but the tone was heavy and regretful.
Lo couldn't taste emotions, but the whiskey didn't taste like whiskey anymore. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and after he finished that glass he shoved it away, refusing more.
"You're not killing him," he said firmly, narrowing his eyes at Corbin, daring him to argue.
"Logan."
"No," Lo said, glaring. "Do you hear me? No."
"If it doesn't work, he might hurt someone. He might kill someone," Corbin said, so very calmly, as though they were merely discussing the weather, and not the fact that Lo might very well have to kill his best friend. "Do you think he could live with himself afterward, if he did that?"
"He'd deal with it," Lo said roughly.
Because he'd make him.
"I can't let him hurt people, Logan. He wouldn't want it that way, either, if he were in his right state of mind. You know that."
The truth was, Lo did know that. Taylor would never want to hurt anyone, but he'd never agree to being killed, either. He'd been held captive for years, and fought for his freedom. He wouldn't roll over and die just because he might be dangerous, and Lo wouldn't allow this to happen.
"You're not killing him," Lo said again, shaking his head.
"You can be very stubborn, my friend," Corbin sighed, putting his whiskey away, pushing the drawer shut. "I will work on the item, and you should sleep. I will let you know if I make any progress. Taylor should sleep for eight to twelve hours."
Lo's nose wrinkled, but he nodded nevertheless. His eyelids were so heavy, and he was exhausted, especially after the adrenaline and Corbin's energy altering. He pushed to his feet and exited the study without a word, quietly closing the door behind him.
He checked in on Taylor, watching the rise and fall of the emotion taster's chest for a moment before he closed the door and made his way to his room, finally.
Then he collapsed into bed and sank into darkness.