Prototype Dorian

Four days before the Selection

"Nice to finally meet you, Lara," Devon says as he takes out a stethoscope from a drawer. "Liam—sorry, Ryan—talked a lot about you."

I frown. Devon used that name for Ryan again. "I, uh, hope they're good things?"

He winks at me. "The greatest."

"How do you know him?"

"I found him half-dead in the streets about a decade ago." He presses the chest piece of the stethoscope on me. "Take a deep breath for me."

As I inhale, my eyes dart towards the bathroom door Ryan disappeared into. I remember his damaged uniform and the recovering scars on his body. A knot twists in my heart. The missions the Tower sent him on all these years must have been hard on him—and he goes on a lot of these missions. So many that I barely saw him around.

"Hm." Devon clicks his tongue. "You seem to be in a good condition, considering the amount of blood you have on you."

I examine my hands. Although bloodstains remain, the rat bite scars are gone. I reach to my back and run my palm over where a jagged rod once was. Other than the dried blood and the hair from the ends of my ponytail sticking to it, the skin is smooth.

"I had some injuries" —that's probably an understatement given that I was impaled by a falling rod and attacked by three giant rats— "but they're all healed now, I guess."

"You heal even faster than your brother, and he's the one with a Gift."

"Uh, I'm- I'm not sure. I mean, I don't know when Ryan got injured. I waited for a long time before Ryan showed up, so I've had a while to heal."

Devon raises his brows. "Hm," he muses again.

His reaction puzzles me. I've never been injured to this extent before, but is this that strange? No one bats an eye to how quickly I bounce back from my injuries during simulations or combat practice. When the Piranhas attacked yesterday and shot at me, I recovered instantly too. Maybe Ground Earth dwellers have impaired healing.

"Do you mind if I take a blood sample?" Devon asks. "So I can run additional checkups for you?"

"Sure."

"Thank you," he says, turning around to assemble the equipment for the blood draw. "By the way, you should also take a shower after Liam is done. I have extra clothes, although they may be too big for you. I'll be doing laundry later so you can wear your clothes again tomorrow." He gives me a quick once-over. "Or we can go shopping tomorrow and get you some new clothes. I don't think this looks like yours."

"It's not," I admit. "Ryan got me these."

"Ah, right. Ryan. I keep forgetting."

He draws a small vial of blood from me, cleans up my arm, and chucks the vial into a fridge. It's slightly disconcerting to see my blood next to a carton of milk.

"Hey, why do you call him Liam?"

"He told me to."

"But his name is Ryan." I hesitate. "Is Liam his secret identity on Ground Earth or something?"

Devon gives me an apologetic smile as he discards his gloves. "Maybe. You'd have to ask him."

I let out an annoyed huff of air. "As if he'd tell me."

"You're right. He can be quite the secretive guy."

"Secretive and annoying and unreliable. I've pretty much given up on him telling me anything, or doing anything for me. He always just... disappears on me. " I glare at the bathroom door. My voice lowers to a tremble. "He's supposed to be someone I can rely on."