Elena's hand trembled as she adjusted the microscope focus, a fine sheen of sweat visible on her forehead despite the boratory's controlled temperature. The blood sample—her own, drawn minutes earlier—revealed cellur abnormalities that confirmed her suspicions. The mutated strain she'd been secretly studying had entered her system, likely through an unnoticed exposure during her sabotage efforts.

  "You're unwell," Keller observed, materializing beside her with the sudden silence typical of ancient vampires. He studied her with clinical detachment that couldn't quite mask his scientific arm. "How long have you been experiencing symptoms?"

  "Thirty-six hours," Elena replied, her scientific precision intact despite the fever clouding her thoughts. "Initially dismissed as stress response."

  Keller gestured sharply to Dr. Mills, who approached with diagnostic equipment. "Full spectrum analysis. Priority protocols."

  As Mills drew additional blood samples, Elena maintained her composed exterior while her scientific mind rapidly assessed her deteriorating condition. The mutated virus was progressing faster than standard variants, her body temperature elevating beyond the normal range for her vampire physiology. The irony wasn't lost on her—after surviving the initial outbreak and controlled transformation, she now faced a secondary infection from the very research she sought to undermine.

  "Heart rate elevated, neural patterns showing irregurities," Mills reported, her voice carrying professional concern beneath the clinical tone. "Blood chemistry indicating accelerated viral replication."

  Keller reviewed the results with evident frustration. "Accelerate preparation for the transformation procedure," he ordered the boratory staff. "The new moon timing is no longer optimal, but we can't risk further deterioration."

  When they left her alone in the examination room, ostensibly to rest while they prepared, Elena finally allowed her scientific facade to crack. Her fingers traced the abnormal pulse at her wrist, counting the accelerating rhythm with research-honed precision. Based on progression rates, she estimated three days at most before critical systems began to fail.

  For the first time since her capture, fear transcended her analytical detachment. Not fear of death itself—she had faced that during her initial transformation—but fear of leaving her work unfinished. Of never seeing Viktor again. The thought brought an unexpected tightness to her chest that had nothing to do with her physical symptoms.

  Her feelings for Viktor had evolved beyond scientific partnership, beyond the telepathic bond they shared. When had that happened? Perhaps during their te-night research sessions, or the quiet moments between crises when they discussed art and literature rather than viral vectors. Or perhaps it had always been there, another variable in her life's complex equation that she had chosen not to solve.

  Elena forced her scientific mind back to the immediate problem. Keller's accelerated timeline presented both danger and opportunity. His desperation to transform her before the virus damaged her unique blood chemistry might create security vulnerabilities, moments of chaos she could exploit.

  She closed her eyes, reaching for the telepathic connection that had grown so tenuous with distance. Through fever and disorientation, she focused her remaining strength on a single thought:

  Time accelerated. Virus complication. Three days maximum.

  Whether the message reached Viktor was impossible to know, but the attempt provided direction for her fading concentration. Elena would continue her methodical resistance, even as her body betrayed her. Science had been her lifelong companion—it would not abandon her now, even at the threshold of her second death.