It shouldn't have surprised me about Sera. She was a strong seer. It made sense why she and I were more powerful than any other seer DMG ever had. Though, if we were made in the same test tube, wouldn't we be the same age?

"But..."

My rejection of his theory stopped as he continued. "I know what you must be thinking. She is actually younger than her birth certificate states. DMG wanted no connections between their subjects. In case you were placed in the same school, they made all of you different ages. They had her a year older and you a year younger than your actual age."

What? So I was actually twenty-four now? My one-year age jump felt like the least of my problems. If I were a test tube baby, did I even have a birthday?

"Again, I am extremely sorry for what I kept from you, but I was only thinking of you. Any more information you need is in the yellow file." His hand patted the folders next to him, which now rested on the table in front of me. "The green one is the information you will need to close the DMG. I couldn't acquire all I need, but this is enough to threaten them. They are running experiments on animals down there you could never imagine. I saw firsthand the monsters they created with animal and fae parts. And humans... Dr. Rapava must be stopped. You will need more evidence, and I hope you will be able to succeed where I failed.

"The agency is not what it seems. They have been working again to recreate the DNA codes my father destroyed. They are planning to make even stronger, more powerful humans, using fae parts and human DNA. This information is what's in the file." He tapped at the green one. "Do not let them get their hands on it, Zoey, whatever you do."

He took a breath. "I've noticed in the last year something has changed. Rapava is getting more anxious and desperate. He no longer cares about helping to cure humans. He wants to create weapons against the fae. This leads me to believe he feels there is an invasion coming. I've also noticed a change in the fae. There are a lot more cases of them being on Earth, and they are getting bolder. Because of this, I cannot say Dr. Rapava is completely wrong. Fae will only use and kill us. We must fight against them, but his method is no longer right."

He took in a shaky breath. "I wish we got a chance to do this together, but it seems it was not in the cards for us." He gripped the doc.u.ments. "Crush the DMG and find a way to live. You deserve the best this world can offer you. Take Lexie and live the fullest lives you can. Love and have lots of babies. I want all your dreams to come true. If anyone can survive a weakness in her genes, it is you. You are too much of a fighter." He took a gulp. "I love you, Zoey Daniels, no matter how you came to this Earth."

"I love you too," I whispered back, reaching for the screen.

Ryker shut it off, the display going black.

There were two resounding truths: I was a lab experiment, and I was going to die. At any moment, my brain could decide it was time and kill me-the weakness in my genes finally taking over.

"Breathe," Ryker's voice mumbled next to me. He squatted next to my chair, one hand on my thigh, the other on my back.

I released a breath I didn't know I held and gasped for another. His hand rubbed my back in slow methodical motions. I was only twenty-three as of yesterday-actually twenty-four-and I only had months, maybe days, or minutes left to live. The sudden wish to join Daniel and Lexie didn't sound as appealing as it once did. The need to survive grew in me like a wildflower. "I'm going to die," I said, turning to Ryker like I was informing him of news.

His eyes, the color of white foam lying over a stormy ocean, gazed back into mine. "I heard. We'll find a way to fight it."

"No. You don't understand. I am dying." I pointed at myself frantically.

"I heard him, Zoey."

The need for him to understand what I meant took hold of me, and I leaned over him, clasping his face between my hands. Pulling him closer, I peered at his striking features. He stiffened under my touch but did not move. "No. You are not getting it." My eyes darted back and forth between his. "I can die at any moment."

Finally, the understanding of my meaning hit him, and he bolted from my grip and to his feet. "You die, so do my powers."

I nodded wildly.

He stared at me; his expression worked itself into a stone sculpture. "You are dying, and you're concerned about me getting my magic back?" His face grew red, muscles in his jaw clenching with rage.

"Yeah," I whispered, confused by the wrath coming off him.

"Zoey-"

"Bhean." Sprig cut off Ryker's sentence as he raced into the room. "They're here."

"Who's here?" I sprang from my chair, facing Sprig.

"DMG. They found us."

I glanced back at Ryker.

"They must have had this place monitored or equipped it with some kind of detection device. They somehow knew you would eventually come," Ryker said.

"They were ready for us here because they slipped in without me detecting them. They have us surrounded. They are coming. Run!" Sprig chattered, his voice hitting a higher frequency. Not a good sign for him. Before I could tell him be to calm, he jumped on the table, bouncing frantically. "I have failed you. I. Have. Failed. You!" And then he keeled over. Splat on his back with his limbs stretched in a star formation.

"f.u.c.k. I hate when he does that." Ryker swiped him up and placed him at the bottom of my bag, next to Pam. He fitted the straps between his fingers and slipped it over my head. He stuffed the video of Daniel and the files into the part of my bag Sprig didn't occupy. "Ready to go?" He asked it like we were having a relaxing time at a restaurant or something. He focused solely on me. My heart caught in my chest as I got ensnared in his eyes. I went stationary under his gaze. I didn't want to move. I wanted to stay exactly where I was.

A loud crash of wood and gla.s.s from the hallway shattered the hold he had on me. "Yeah. I think I am ready." I nodded.

A hint of a smile grazed his mouth. He whipped me around and pushed me in the direction of the exit. It opened to a long corridor, sprinkled with doors. I peered down one end of the hallway and then the other. Voices and more loud bangs echoed off the walls, making it hard to decipher which way our enemies were coming. If they had us surrounded, no choice was good.

"This way." Ryker tugged at my jacket, taking me the opposite way we came in. Without question, I followed him.

Shouts and pounding footsteps sounded behind us. "Stop!" a man yelled. His demand only caused us to increase our pace. Gunshots rang out. The draft caused by a bullet whizzed past my head, and it embedded into the wall beside me. With a cry, I curled forward, my hands covering my head. What little good it would do. "Shoot him, not her," another man yelled. A rock dropped into my gut. The voice was one I knew well-a voice belonging to a man I used to admire and respect-Dr. Boris Rapava.

He didn't ever leave his lab and never went on a hunt. His presence unsettled me beyond what the man with the gun did. There were only two reasons he would be here: for me or for the information Daniel had about them. Two very good reasons for him to want to intercede.

Ryker tore through the pa.s.sage, turning along another seemly random corridor. We slid as we rounded the corner at a sprint. An exit door sat at the end. My heart lifted with the idea we might possibly get away.

I should have known it would never be so easy.

We pushed through the door to the hazy afternoon glow. Freedom so close. A body slammed into Ryker's from above, taking him to the gravel. I barely turned my head before I saw another figure jump off the roof, heading for me-Sera.

I dove for the ground, rolled away, and tossed my bag from me so I didn't squash Sprig. It skidded toward Ryker, the files spreading all over the asphalt before the bag settled next to a cement parking block.

Noooo!

There wasn't time to think about the papers as Sera landed where I stood a few seconds earlier. We were trained to react in a moment, and neither of us took more than a breath before we were going for each other. It had only been a day since I had fought Crazy Kat. My muscles and bones still ached, but adrenaline helped coat the pain and push me on.

I jumped as Sera's foot struck at me. I twisted, and my leg swept in a roundabout kick. She rolled to the ground and back up in one fluid movement.

"Sera, I'm not the enemy. You don't know what they've done to us."

"What? Trained us to fight filthy things like you? Do you know how thick your fae aura is now? It makes me nauseated to look at you," she seethed. We circled each other. "You are worse than fae. You willingly f.u.c.k them." Her lip coiled in disgust.

They all still thought I was pregnant. To them, it could be the only reason my aura would be fae. True, I held a fae essence, but it wasn't a baby. "DMG is not what you think." I motioned between us. "We are not what you think."

"I am nothing like you."

"We were experiments, Sera. You have to listen to me."

"No, I really don't, you crazy b.i.t.c.h." She snarled and rushed at me, her elbow digging into my gut. Pain shot along my ribs. Biting through the agony, I wrapped my arm around her neck and shoved her onto an abandoned car in the parking lot. I didn't want to hurt her. I wanted her to understand. But with every kick or punch, she made it harder and harder. My anger tingled around my shoulders, causing me to tense.

"Listen to me," I hissed into her ear from behind, keeping my arm tight.

"No!" Her head knocked back, but I had been ready for her. I kept my face to the side of hers. She fell heavily into a car hood, bringing me with her. We rolled off the hood onto the ground, hitting the brick wall of the building. The moment let me take in my surroundings. Two more hunters who I had once called friends jumped in to help Liam. They were highly trained to fight fae, to wrestle someone like Ryker. They would not be as easy to fight as a group of gangsters who had no real training or experience with combating fae.

Sera and I clambered to our feet, circling each other like sharks. Dirt and blood covered her face, and a snarl bowed her lip, hatred deep in her eyes. She wanted to hurt me. Probably even kill me.

The commotion behind Sera captured my attention.

Hugo came around, kicking at the tendon in Ryker's back leg, as Peter and Liam barreled into him. Peter held a knife in his hand. It was Peter's favorite weapon to use when a hunt went wrong and killing became the only option-a fae-welded dagger. This blade would kill Ryker with a simple flick of Peter's wrist across his throat, and just a slice of it across Ryker's skin could paralyze him, making it easy for the group to overpower him "Ryker!" The words arose from my mouth, the need to warn him hot on my tongue. It was all it took.

It was stupid. I broke one of the major rules of combat. Chapter Three in The Art of War: never let yourself get distracted. Daniel had been very clear about this rule. You needed to be highly aware of everything going on around you in case another threat came at you. But you never, never let yourself get diverted by it. Your head had to be in the game. The moment you broke this, the game was over. Your opponent, especially a highly trained one like Sera, would take advantage of the half second and pounce.

A foot collided into my chest, and I flew back, skidding across the blacktop. My chest had been healing, but the fracture getting a direct impact sent bile up my throat. A faraway roar permeated the air, stirring the blood in my veins. Warmness swirled in my gut, probably a bleeding liver or kidney.

Sera came into view. She said something, but I couldn't understand. My ears hummed. Figures and voices boomed around me, but nothing made sense. The warmness in my stomach moved to my limbs and into my chest, numbing them. My head rolled to the side. It took several blinks, but Ryker on his knees finally came into view. All three hunters held him. More men, at least a dozen, exited the building and came from around the corner. Guns all turned on Ryker. But he paid no attention to them. His focus locked on where I lay.

The back door of the bank opened, and Dr. Rapava exited. "Good job." He nodded approvingly at Sera and Liam. He went to my bag and seized it. He snapped his fingers at a man to retrieve the files. "I cannot let you have this information, Zoey. What we do is for the best. I am disappointed you no longer see it. What is in here will only help us in the battle against fae."

I wanted to argue, to say something. The burning in my body kept me locked in place. The fever I felt for the last day consumed every fiber of muscle. The warmth turned to blistering heat inside, and I could not even open my mouth to scream.

"Your lover has been a thorn in my side." Rapava turned to face Ryker. "I wish I could run tests on you. You are a rarity, even in the fae world, but you are regrettably not my problem."

Ryker's lip hitched, a snarl escaping him, his eyes still on me.

"I made a deal." Rapava sighed as if he lost his favorite toy. "Sera?" The doctor turned and nodded for her to step forward. Sera pulled a gun from her halter. It looked different than the weapons we were issued, but I had no time to a.n.a.lyze or even think. All I understood was she would shoot Ryker. If it happened, alive or not, our chances of escaping went to zero.

The thought of him getting hurt again twisted my gut. The heat that had been incinerating me flamed till I almost pa.s.sed out. Then it broke, and a cold river washed through me. I gasped for air. My limbs became moveable.

Sera pointed the muzzle at Ryker's heart. My frame vibrated with strength. Energy burst through my muscles like an explosion. I sprang to my feet. I felt no pain, only searing anger shooting into every crevice of my being. They would not touch him. I would keep him and Sprig safe.

The gun discharged its bullet, heading for Ryker's chest.

No!

Everything happened in a split second as I barreled toward him. I would protect him somehow. I could not let them hurt him or take him from me. Every moment we shared, every memory flashed through my mind: the time he covered my torso with his own to keep hypothermia from taking me; st.i.tching his wound in the bathroom; the first time he dressed me; the time he undressed me; and the night we talked about how I wanted to follow my dreams to South America and open a refuge for disabled children in orphanages, to relax at a local dive bar, drinking cold beer on a hot humid night. This vision had been my lifeline, always thinking I had time to fulfill my dream. The fantasy disintegrated between my fingers, like crumbling clay. I only wanted us to be far away from here. Spend my last days alive on some warm beach, drinking with him. I was going to die without ever leaving the invisible borders of Seattle.

I slammed into Rapava, pushing him out of the way. The action hooked my arm through the bag handle he held and yanked it from his grip. With tremendous force, I crashed into Ryker. The Wanderer fell backward, taking us both to the ground. I could only see his chest as we dropped together. Heat jolted through my nerves, my vision spun, and air rushed by my ears as if I had stuck my head from a speeding car. His back collided with the terrain, jarring me as we slid several feet before something stopped our movement.

Silence became the first thing I noticed. I only heard his breath next to my ear. It shouldn't have been this quiet. They would be coming at us. Yelling, feet thundering. But there was nothing. The second thing was the stale stench of beer and cigarettes.

I slowly lifted my head and blinked, then blinked again, looking around at the chipped walls adorned with red and white flags, dilapidated wood floors, and an old jukebox in the corner crooning a Latin ballad. The bar appeared lined with stools, which you could barely see through the dim light and haze. A pool table leg pressed into Ryker's shoulder, the object that had stopped our movement. A Hispanic man stood in a doorway next to us, a case of beer in his arms. He peered at us with his mouth open.

"What the... ?" I couldn't seem to grasp the dingy, shabby hole-in-the-wall bar surrounding us. It reeked of smoke and booze.

Ryker stirred underneath me. When I looked, his eyes had grown wide.

"Are you all right?" I examined him to make sure he was in one piece.

"Yeah." His intense gaze turned back to me. Suddenly, I could feel every inch of his torso beneath mine, and his strong arms around me. One wrapped around my waist, his hand on my b.u.t.t. The other hand clutched the back of my head, holding me tightly to him. Air evaporated, my chest tightened.

"You know you saved a fae." His voice low.

"I saved you."

He sucked air through his teeth, but no other emotion came to the surface. This close, I saw the outline of his eyes weren't as pure navy blue as I thought. They had specs of silver running through them like a map of a river. They seemed to drag me in, taunting me to fall through them.

He licked his lips, drawing my attention to them. They were all I could see-damp, full, beautiful, and seemed to be calling for mine. My head lowered as he tilted his.

"Que demonios?" The man still stood in the same place. Shock widened his eyes and mouth. "El diablo!" The box fell from his hands, slamming onto the floor. The shattering sound of gla.s.s inside jolted me away from Ryker's mouth. Liquid leaked onto the wood planks. The smell of beer swam into my nose, suffocating my senses. The man continued to speak Spanish as we scrambled to our feet.

My bag lay on the floor next to us. "Sprig!" I opened the top, leafing through it. Snuggled at the bottom, a monkey-sprite lay sound asleep still curled around Pam, a book, and Daniel's video camera. My shoulders sagged with relief. How the h.e.l.l did he sleep through that? He had saved the camera from going into Rapava's hands. The doctor had the files, which was extremely bad. I hadn't even had a chance to go through them, but whatever was in them, Daniel had hoped I would keep it away from DMG. I failed him. Still, we had Daniel's video. The thought of losing the last bit of visual and audio piece of him destroyed me. Sprig's toes clung to it for dear life, like he had fallen asleep doing so. I felt so glad the little b.u.g.g.e.r was here and unharmed.

Fevered Spanish circled around me, drawing my attention back to the stranger. The dark-skinned man stood flinging his arms around, pointing at us with fear and suspicion. His Spanish was accented. It didn't sound like someone who came from Mexico. My eyes examined the room, my brain trying to understand. The Peruvian flag hanging on the wall confirmed our true location and shoved the whole "how the h.e.l.l are we here?" to the forefront.

"How-" Was all I uttered before Ryker cut me off.

"You." His head turned, taking in the bar. Late afternoon rays streamed through the musty window by the front door. The sun looked a little lower in the sky than a moment earlier in Seattle. "You caused us to jump." He turned to me.

My head shook automatically, wanting to deny this statement. But I felt deep in my gut he was right. This tavern appeared so close to the place I envisioned in my head before I tackled Ryker. I jumped us to South America. His magic existed, alive in me. It had been growing for a while and now flamed wildly. The powers had come alive to protect their home-the man they belonged to. It was the fever, which had been growing in me, the unbearable heat I felt when lying on the ground. His magic helped me heal and defend its owner.

My hands went to my stomach and moved to my chest. Before the jump, I felt it was contained to a small area in my gut, but the energy had broken open, and now it flowed everywhere. The warmth that immobilized me was his power coming alive.

Ryker's face appeared hard, his focus laser sharp on me. The Latino man continued to wail in Spanish, spouting about how two people crashed into the bar from thin air. There were a lot of Hail Marys entwined in his rants. I understood him, but he wasn't a priority. He finally ran, choosing to fear us from outside the walls of the cantina.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" The way Ryker's jaw clenched, I knew he wasn't happy. But I saved his life-both of ours-and had gotten us far away from DMG and Dr. Rapava. Why was he so upset?

"What?" I demanded.

"They are adapting to you. Your system is no longer foreign to them."

"What are? Your powers?" I asked. "What does it mean, adapting to me?" Fear coated my throat.

He folded his arms; anger burned under his words. "It means I might never get them back, and you will become one of us."

Time stopped. Sound dispersed. Only the thudding of my heart rang in my ears. "Y-you mean I will become fae?"

"Yes. Part. You are stealing my powers, who I am." Every word was shot at me like a bullet, digging into my gut.

This could not be possible. Actually, it could be, but I didn't want it to. I had been taught to despise fae, everything they were. Now I was becoming one.

Ryker's expression faltered. His stare zeroed in on my face. "Zoey... ?"

As soon as he called attention to it, I felt the warmth sliding to my top lip. I touched the spot. My fingers came away with red liquid. The pool of blood dripped from my hand onto the floor.

Nosebleed.

Experiment.

Dying.

Ryker grabbed a napkin off the bar and handed it to me.

"Is it too late?" I whispered, placing the paper under my nose.

Ryker stood for a moment before he shook his head. "No, but it won't be long."