Mount Sinai Hospital at 2 PM was chaos with a side of disinfectant smell.
I sat in the emergency waiting room, clutching a fake insurance card and trying not to look like someone who was planning to commit murder in sixty-eight hours. The fluorescent lights made everyone look half-dead, which was oddly appropriate given my line of work.
My plan was simple. Get into the hospital, observe Alex Chen from a distance, figure out his routine. Maybe catch a glimpse of this Maria Santos woman I was supposed to kill first. Easy surveillance stuff.
Except my chest had been doing weird fluttery things all morning, and now I was legitimately worried something was wrong with me. What if I was having actual heart problems? Could death gods even have heart attacks?
The irony wasn't lost on me.
"Raven Blackwood?" A nurse called from the triage desk.
That was my fake name for today. I'd gone with something close enough to remember but different enough to avoid questions. I walked over, trying to look appropriately sick.
"What brings you in today?" The nurse was maybe forty, tired eyes behind wire-rim glasses.
"Chest pain," I said. "And my heart's been beating weird. Like, really fast sometimes, then stopping completely."
"How long has this been going on?"
"Since last night. I was at work and suddenly felt like someone was stabbing me in the chest."
She took my fake vitals, typed notes into her computer. "Any history of heart problems?"
"No. I'm usually really healthy."
"Okay, we'll get you seen as soon as possible. Take a seat."
I went back to waiting. The plan was working perfectly. Chest pain would get me seen by a cardiologist, and according to the hospital directory, Dr. Alex Chen was on duty today.
Twenty minutes later, a different nurse called my name. "Room 7. Dr. Chen will be right with you."
My stomach did a weird flip. This was it.
Room 7 was your standard ER setup—narrow bed with scratchy sheets, blood pressure cuff hanging on the wall, that rolling cart with medical stuff I couldn't identify. I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to look like a normal person having normal heart problems.
Three soft knocks on the door.
"Ms. Blackwood? I'm Dr. Chen."
He walked in, and seeing him in person hit me like a truck.
The photo in his file hadn't done him justice. Alex Chen was tall, maybe six-one, with black hair that looked like he'd been running his hands through it. Mixed features—Asian and something else, maybe European. But it was his eyes that got me. Dark brown, warm, like he actually gave a shit about every patient who walked through that door.
"Hi," I managed.
"Hi there." He washed his hands at the little sink, movements efficient but not rushed. "I understand you're having some chest pain?"
"Yeah. Started last night."
He grabbed the rolling stool and sat down across from me. Close enough that I could smell his cologne—something clean and subtle. "Can you describe the pain for me?"
"Sharp. Like someone's stabbing me right here." I pressed my hand to my chest, which wasn't entirely a lie. "And my heart keeps doing weird things."
"What kind of weird things?"
"Beating really fast, then stopping completely. Or feeling like it's going to explode."
Alex nodded, making notes on his tablet. "Any triggers? Stress, caffeine, exercise?"
"I was touching someone when it started. At work."
He looked up from his tablet. For just a second, I thought I saw something flicker across his face. Recognition? But that was impossible.
"Touching someone," he repeated.
"Yeah. I work at a... a nursing home. I was holding this patient's hand, and suddenly it felt like my chest was on fire."
"Hmm." Alex set down his tablet. "Let's take a listen to your heart, okay? I'm going to need you to lean back."
I lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling tiles. This was stupid. I was literally letting my target examine me. If he had any idea who I really was...
"This might be cold," Alex said, pressing his stethoscope to my chest.
The metal was freezing, but that wasn't what made me gasp. It was the way he was looking at me—focused, professional, but there was something else underneath. Like he was seeing more than just another patient.
"Take a deep breath for me."
I did. The stethoscope moved to different spots on my chest, and each time his fingers brushed against my skin through the thin hospital gown, I felt that weird flutter again.
"Your heart sounds fine," he said, hanging the stethoscope around his neck. "Let me check your pulse."
This was the moment. The moment he would touch my wrist and my heart would start beating and everything would go to hell.
Alex reached for my left hand. His fingers were warm, gentle as they pressed against my wrist. For about two seconds, everything was normal.
Then it happened.
The pain hit first—sharp, sudden, like someone had shoved a knife between my ribs. But this time it was different. Instead of just pain, there was something else. A rushing sensation, like blood suddenly flowing through veins that had been empty for centuries.
My heart didn't just start beating. It exploded into life.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Fast and hard and so real I could feel it against my ribs.
I jerked my hand away from Alex's touch, sitting up so fast the room spun. "What the hell—"
Alex stared at me, his eyes wide with shock. But not the kind of shock you'd expect from a doctor whose patient just had a cardiac episode. This was different. This was the shock of someone who'd been waiting for something and just watched it happen.
"You felt it too," he said quietly.
"What?" My heart was still pounding. I could actually hear it in my ears.
"When I touched you. You felt it too."
I stared at him. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. He was supposed to be a normal doctor examining a normal patient. He wasn't supposed to know anything.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said.
Alex stood up from his stool, moving slowly like he was afraid I might bolt. "Your heart wasn't beating when you came in here."
"That's ridiculous. Of course it was beating."
"No." He shook his head. "I've been a cardiologist for six years. I know what a heartbeat sounds like through a stethoscope. And I know what silence sounds like too."
My mouth went dry. "You're imagining things."
"Am I?" Alex moved closer to the bed. "When I touched your wrist just now, your heart started. For the first time in... how long?"
This was bad. This was very, very bad.
"You're crazy," I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "I'm leaving."
"Wait." Alex stepped between me and the door. Not blocking my path, exactly, but making it clear he didn't want me to go. "Please. Just... wait."
"Move."
"What's your real name?"
The question hit me like cold water. "What?"
"Your real name. Because I know it's not Raven Blackwood."
My heart—my apparently working heart—skipped a beat. "How could you possibly—"
"Because I've been waiting for you."
The words hung in the air between us. I stared at Alex, trying to process what he'd just said. Waiting for me? That was impossible. We'd never met before yesterday when he was treating Harold Morrison.
"You're insane," I whispered.
"Maybe." Alex ran his hand through his hair, messing it up even more. "But I know what I felt when I touched you. And I know you felt it too."
"I felt pain."
"No. Not just pain." He took another step closer. "You felt alive."
He was right, and that terrified me.
"I have to go," I said, trying to push past him.
"Raven."
I froze. He'd said my real name.
"Your name is Raven," Alex continued. "And you're not human."
This time I did bolt. I shoved past him and yanked open the door, ignoring his calls behind me. Half the ER turned to stare as I ran down the hallway in a hospital gown, but I didn't care. I needed to get out of there. Now.
I made it to the bathroom before my legs gave out. Locked the door and leaned against it, breathing hard. My heart was still beating—this weird, steady rhythm that felt foreign and terrifying and wonderful all at once.
How did he know? How could he possibly know?
I pulled out my phone and dialed Marcus's number. It went straight to voicemail.
"Sir, it's Raven. We have a problem. Alex Chen knows... things he shouldn't know. Call me back."
I hung up and stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. My face was flushed, my eyes brighter than they'd been in centuries. I looked... alive.
Shit.
A soft knock on the bathroom door made me jump.
"Raven? It's Alex. Are you okay?"
I closed my eyes. Of course he'd followed me.
"Go away."
"I need to talk to you. It's important."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Yes, there is." His voice was closer now, like he was leaning against the door. "I know what you are. And I know why you're here."
My blood turned to ice. "You don't know anything."
"You're here to kill me."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I pressed my back against the door, trying to think of something to say. Some lie that would make this all go away.
"That's crazy," I finally managed.
"Is it? A woman with no heartbeat shows up in my ER the day after one of my patients has a miraculous recovery. A patient who should have died but didn't." Alex paused. "That's not a coincidence."
He knew about Harold Morrison. He knew about me. He knew everything.
"How?" I whispered.
"Because I've been expecting you for a long time."
I yanked open the door. Alex was standing right there, close enough to touch. His eyes were sad but not afraid. Like he'd accepted whatever was about to happen.
"Expecting me?"
"My whole life." Alex smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I've been waiting for death to come find me. I just didn't expect her to be so beautiful."
My heart did that weird skipping thing again. "You're not afraid."
"Should I be?"
"Most people are."
"I'm not most people."
No kidding.
"Why aren't you running?" I asked.
Alex reached out slowly, like he was approaching a wild animal. His fingers brushed against my cheek, and that electric sensation shot through me again. "Because I've been alone my whole life, waiting for someone who would understand. And now you're here."
I jerked away from his touch. "You don't understand what I am."
"Don't I?"
"I'm here to kill you."
"I know."
"In sixty-six hours, you're going to die. And I'm the one who's going to make it happen."
Alex nodded. "I know that too."
"Then why—"
"Because for the first time in twenty-nine years, I'm not alone."
I stared at him, this man who should be terrified and running but instead was standing there like he wanted to have a conversation. Like he was happy to see me.
"This is insane," I said.
"Probably." Alex glanced around the busy hallway. "Look, we can't talk here. Too many people."
"We're not talking anywhere. I'm leaving."
"Raven, please."
"No."
"Then at least tell me one thing."
Against my better judgment, I stopped. "What?"
"When you touched Harold Morrison last night, did you feel your heart beat for the first time?"
How could he possibly know that?
"You did," Alex said, reading the answer on my face. "And when I touched you just now, it happened again."
"So?"
"So I think you should know—when I touched you, I felt something too."
"What?"
Alex smiled, and this time it was real. "For the first time in my life, I felt like I wasn't going to die alone."