Chapter 10: The Label

Ivy's POV

Dr. Lowry put the tonic's results on the big screen, and I read them standing up.

The first line was a name.

It was my name, in a code that ended in my own blood type.

"It's plasma," Dr. Lowry said. "Human-wolf plasma, filtered and mixed with honey and a sedative herb to make it taste like tea."

"Whose plasma?" Rafe asked.

"Hers."

Nobody spoke.

I looked at the number on the screen until it stopped being a number.

"I give a vial every month," I said. "One tube."

"That's what you knew you gave them," Dr. Lowry said.

"I think they took more when you were small, on the nights you were sedated for a fever.

"We'll know the real amount when I see their ledger."

"What does it do?"

"It does what your body does," she said, and turned to the next slide.

"It heals. Wolfsbane can't hold you, and silver can't keep you open.

"Your blood cleans poison out of other people."

My legs went strange, and Rafe set a chair under me before I fell.

I sat.

"The antidote," I said. "The one the clinic sells to the whole territory."

"The base is your line," Dr. Lowry said.

"I've signed off on that formula for six years.

"I never saw the donor record."

She pulled off her glasses.

"I'm so sorry, Ivy. I should have asked."

I stared at my hands.

I thought of the black gauze, the storeroom floor, the vial that broke beside my face.

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