Three days after the full moon, Alexander Kane looked like hell.
I'd seen him every day since that night in his office, and each day he seemed to get worse instead of better. The silver bullet wounds had healed completely - werewolf metabolism at work - but something else was wrong. He was pale, exhausted, and I'd caught him gripping his desk more than once like he was fighting off waves of pain.
"You need to see a doctor," I said, setting a stack of security reports on his desk. It was Friday afternoon, and the office was finally quiet after a week of damage control from the "gas leak incident."
Alexander didn't look up from the contract he was reading. "I can't see a doctor. What would I tell them? That I turn into a monster once a month and my body is rejecting the silver poisoning from my employee's bullets?"
"Maybe not those exact words."
"Scarlett, I've been dealing with this curse for five years. The aftermath is always rough. I'll be fine in a few days."
But he didn't look fine. He looked like someone fighting a losing battle with his own body. There were dark circles under his silver eyes, and his hands had a slight tremor that he thought he was hiding.
"Is this normal?" I asked. "After other full moons?"
Alexander finally looked up at me. "No. Usually the recovery is faster. But I've never been shot with silver before. My system is having trouble processing it."
"Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe the silver is helping fight the curse."
"Or maybe it's slowly killing me." He set down the contract and rubbed his temples. "Either way, it's better than what I was before."
I wanted to argue with him, but I could see the determination in his expression. Alexander Kane would rather die as himself than live as the monster the curse made him. I couldn't decide if that was noble or stupid.
"I'm going to get you some coffee," I said. "The good stuff from the executive kitchen, not the swill from the break room."
"You don't have to take care of me, Scarlett. That's not part of your job description."
"Yeah, well, my job description didn't include shooting my boss full of silver bullets either. I'm improvising."
That got a smile out of him, which made me feel better than it should have.
I made my way to the executive kitchen on the fifty-ninth floor. It was fully stocked with premium everything - imported coffee, bottled water, fresh fruit that probably cost more per pound than most people's hourly wage. I found the espresso machine and started making Alexander the strongest coffee known to mankind.
While the machine worked, I looked out the windows at the Los Angeles skyline. From up here, the city looked clean and organized. You couldn't see the poverty, the crime, the things that went bump in the night. It was all just glittering towers and endless possibilities.
But I knew better. Down there in those streets, monsters hunted humans. And here in this tower, a human was slowly dying from the poison meant to kill monsters.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
The espresso machine beeped, and I reached for the cup. But the handle was smaller than I expected, and my fingers slipped. The porcelain cup shattered on the marble counter, sending hot coffee and broken pottery everywhere.
"Damn it," I muttered, grabbing paper towels to clean up the mess.
That's when I saw the blood.
A shard of the cup had sliced across my palm, deeper than I'd thought. Blood was dripping steadily onto the marble counter, bright red against the white stone.
I wrapped the paper towels around my hand and started cleaning up the coffee and pottery. But some of my blood had already dripped onto the floor, and I'd have to mop that up too before anyone saw it.
I was on my hands and knees, wiping blood spots off the marble, when I heard footsteps behind me.
"Scarlett? What happened?"
I looked up to see Alexander standing in the doorway. He'd come looking for me when I took too long with the coffee.
"Just a broken cup. I'll have it cleaned up in a minute."
But Alexander wasn't looking at the mess. He was staring at my bleeding hand with an expression I couldn't read.
"You're hurt."
"It's just a cut. I'll live."
"Let me see."
Before I could protest, Alexander was kneeling beside me, gently taking my injured hand in both of his. The paper towels fell away, revealing the gash across my palm.
"This needs stitches," he said, examining the wound.
"It's fine. I've had worse."
But Alexander wasn't listening. He was staring at my blood with the same intensity he'd shown when studying business contracts. Like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
Then something weird happened.
Alexander's face, which had been pale and drawn all week, suddenly flushed with color. The tremor in his hands stopped. The tension lines around his eyes smoothed out.
And when he looked up at me, his silver eyes were brighter than I'd seen them since the full moon.
"Alexander? Are you okay?"
He blinked, like he was coming out of a trance. "I... yes. I feel... better."
"Better how?"
"The pain is gone. The exhaustion, the nausea, all of it. It's like someone just flipped a switch." He looked down at my bleeding hand, then back at my face. "Scarlett, how long have you been bleeding?"
"I don't know. A few minutes?"
"And when did you first notice I looked sick this week?"
I thought about it. "Tuesday morning. You were fine Monday night when I left the office, but Tuesday you looked terrible."
Alexander's eyes widened. "Monday night was the last time we had direct physical contact. When you helped me up from the office floor after the transformation."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that the timing isn't a coincidence." Alexander stood up and pulled me to my feet. "Come on. We need to test something."
"Test what?"
"Whether your blood is what's making me feel better."
Alexander led me back to his office, moving faster than he had all week. Whatever was happening to him, it was like someone had recharged his batteries.
"Sit down," he said, pointing to the couch. "And don't wrap up that cut yet."
"Alexander, this is crazy. Blood doesn't work that way."
"Doesn't it? You're a hunter, Scarlett. Haven't you ever wondered why some hunters are better at tracking werewolves than others? Why some can sense supernatural activity while others can't?"
I had wondered about that. I'd always been better at finding rogues than other hunters, better at predicting their behavior. Damien had said I had a gift for the work, but I'd never thought too much about it.
"You think there's something special about my blood?"
"I think there's something special about you. And I think we just stumbled onto proof." Alexander sat down beside me on the couch. "Let me try something."
He took my injured hand again, and I watched as a drop of my blood fell onto his wrist. The moment it made contact with his skin, Alexander inhaled sharply.
"What is it?"
"It's like... like someone just shot adrenaline straight into my veins. But not in a bad way. In a way that makes everything clearer, stronger." He looked at me with wonder in his eyes. "Scarlett, I think your blood is some kind of natural antidote to the curse."
"That's impossible."
"Is it? You saw what happened Monday night. You touched me and the wolf calmed down. Now my blood makes contact with yours and I feel human again for the first time in days." Alexander moved closer to me on the couch. "What if this isn't a coincidence? What if you're exactly what I need to control this curse?"
I stared at him. The idea was insane, but I couldn't argue with the evidence. Alexander had gone from looking half-dead to completely healthy in a matter of minutes.
"Even if that's true," I said slowly, "what are you suggesting? That I cut myself open every time you feel sick?"
"Not cut yourself open. Just... share. Small amounts, when needed." Alexander's hand was still holding mine, and I could feel that electric tingle getting stronger. "Scarlett, if this works, if your blood can really control the curse, then you're offering me something I never thought I'd have again."
"What's that?"
"A normal life. The ability to function without constant fear of what I might do. The chance to be human instead of monster."
I looked into his silver eyes and saw desperate hope there. Not the kind of hope that led to bad decisions, but the kind that came from seeing a real solution to an impossible problem.
"What would you want in return?"
"Protection. Security. A chance to learn more about what makes you special." Alexander's thumb brushed across my knuckles, sending sparks up my arm. "And compensation, of course. If you're providing a medical service, you should be paid for it."
"How much compensation are we talking about?"
Alexander smiled. "How does a million dollars sound? Per year."
I nearly choked. "A million dollars?"
"Scarlett, if you can give me control over this curse, a million dollars is nothing. I'd pay ten times that amount for a chance to be human again."
A million dollars. That was more money than I'd ever imagined having. More money than the Hunter Organization paid me in twenty years. But the idea of selling my blood, even to someone I was starting to care about, felt wrong somehow.
"I don't know," I said. "This feels like crossing a line."
"What line?"
"The line between professional and personal. Between helping someone and... whatever this would be."
Alexander was quiet for a moment. "You're right. This would be personal. Very personal." He lifted my injured hand and looked at the cut across my palm. "Scarlett, can I ask you something?"
"What?"
"When we touch, when our skin makes contact, do you feel it too? That electric sensation?"
I thought about lying, but what was the point? "Yes."
"And when you shot me with silver bullets Monday night, did it hurt you to see me in pain?"
"Yes," I said more quietly.
"Then this isn't just about money or medical treatment. This is about two people who have found something rare in each other." Alexander brought my hand closer to his face, close enough that I could feel his breath on my skin. "This is about trust."
"Trust?"
"I'm trusting you with my life, literally. Every time we do this, I'm putting myself completely in your hands. And you're trusting me with something equally precious."
"My blood?"
"Your secrets. Your real identity. Your safety." Alexander's eyes met mine. "Scarlett, if we do this, if we enter into this kind of arrangement, there's no going back. We'll be connected in ways that go far beyond employer and employee."
I knew he was right. What he was proposing would change everything between us. But as I looked at him, healthy and strong for the first time in days, I realized I wanted to help him. Not for the money, not for the mission, but because I cared about what happened to him.
"How would it work?" I asked.
"Small amounts. Maybe once a week, or whenever symptoms start to appear. Just enough to keep the curse manageable." Alexander moved even closer to me on the couch. "We could start now, if you're willing. A test run to see how much you need to share and how long the effects last."
"Now?"
"Your hand is already bleeding. And I want to see if direct contact works better than incidental contact."
I looked at my cut hand, then at Alexander's expectant face. This was insane. I was about to enter into some kind of blood-sharing arrangement with a werewolf. Damien would kill me if he ever found out.
But Damien wasn't here. And Alexander was looking at me like I was the answer to every prayer he'd ever made.
"Okay," I said quietly. "But we take this slow. Small amounts, like you said."
Alexander nodded. "Whatever you're comfortable with."
He took my injured hand and brought it closer to his mouth. For a moment I thought he was going to bite me, and I tensed up. But instead, he gently pressed his lips to the cut on my palm.
The effect was immediate and overwhelming.
The electric sensation I'd felt before exploded into something much stronger. It was like being plugged into a power source, like every nerve in my body had suddenly come alive. I could feel Alexander's heartbeat through the connection, could sense his emotions like they were my own.
And what I felt from him was pure gratitude, mixed with something that felt dangerously close to worship.
"Alexander," I gasped.
He pulled back, and I could see that he'd felt it too. His silver eyes were wide with wonder, and there was color in his cheeks that hadn't been there moments before.
"That was..." he started, then stopped. "I've never felt anything like that."
Neither had I. Whatever had just happened between us, it was far beyond anything I could explain with science or supernatural theory.
"How do you feel?" I asked.
Alexander stood up and walked across the room. His movements were fluid, confident, completely different from the pained shuffle he'd been using all week.
"I feel perfect. Better than perfect. I feel like I could take on the world and win." He turned back to me with a smile that could have powered the city. "Scarlett, I think we just figured out how to beat this curse."
I wrapped my hand in a clean tissue and tried to process what had just happened. The physical sensation had been incredible, but it was the emotional connection that had me shaken. For just a moment, I'd felt like Alexander and I were the same person.
"What happens now?" I asked.
"Now we figure out how to make this work long-term. How often you'll need to... treat me. How much is safe for you to give. Whether there are any side effects we need to worry about."
"And in the meantime?"
Alexander walked back to the couch and sat down beside me. "In the meantime, you just saved my life. Again."
"I didn't save your life. I just helped you feel better."
"Scarlett, three days ago I was ready to throw myself off the roof rather than live with this curse. Today, for the first time in five years, I have hope that I might actually be able to control it." Alexander took my uninjured hand in both of his. "If that's not saving my life, I don't know what is."
I looked into his eyes and realized that something fundamental had changed between us. We weren't just hunter and werewolf anymore. We weren't even just employer and employee.
We were something new. Something that didn't have a name yet.
And as Alexander's thumb traced circles on the back of my hand, sending little sparks of electricity up my arm, I realized that I was in deeper trouble than I'd ever been in my life.
Because somewhere along the way, I'd stopped thinking of Alexander Kane as a target.
Now I was thinking of him as someone I might actually be falling for.
And that was going to make the rest of this mission a whole lot more complicated.
End of Chapter 5