“What?” He threw up a hand. “You thought we would run off into the sunset? You think I’m mentally stable for a healthy relationship? I turn into a fucking Lycan, Lara. I’m a monster. I’m a fucking beast who could kill you in your sleep because of a bad fucking dream. Don’t you think that goes through my head every time I’m around you? Every time I’m inside of you and I want nothing more than to just let myself go, I can’t because I think what if? What if this time I push too hard that I hurt you? And the thought of hurting you? I’d kill myself before I let myself hurt you, you know that?”

  “You don’t have to,” I insisted.

  “What are you talking about?” he went to run his fingers through his hair but the locks were shaved short like he wore it in the military, so he rubbed his head instead. “You’ll never understand what I’m afraid of. You’ll never understand how much I...”He let his voice trail off. “I can’t give you what you deserve.”

  “Goddammit.”

  He snapped his head, surprised by the way I took the Lord’s name in vain, surprised by the way it came so easily to me.

  He could be as surprised as he wanted. I didn’t care.

  “I hate that you’re doing this again,” I said. I could barely hear myself. I wasn’t sure if he even heard me. “I told you before, I can’t do this. I can’t do this if you’re going to run away. It’s different now.”

  “How?” His voice croaked, like he didn’t want to believe in what I was about to say. “Some cure? Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’ve gone after every damn cure I tried to find, and you know what they all had in common? They didn’t work. They were a fucking lie.”

  “There’s a cure,” I said. I had to believe in it, even if he didn’t. “I’m sure of it. My grandfather entertained the possibility of it. If he was willing to listen, to accept it, it has to be true.”

  “What kind of logic is that?” he asked. There was a growl to his voice but he seemed genuinely curious.

  I ran my fingers through my hair, my fingers shaking the entire time. I stepped to the desk and slammed my hand on the surface. Pain shot up my arm. I was sure if I looked at my palm it would be as red as the anger coursing through me, only muted by the painful sorrow that stretched out like fingers before curling around my heart and squeezing the life from me.

  “What do you want from me, Jon? Do you want me to slit my throat and bleed all over your combat boots? I’ll do it. I’ll fucking do it. But I will not wait around for you to figure out you don’t want me. You won’t even try.”

  “You think I don’t want you?” Without warning, he stepped forward and splayed out his arms across the surface of the desk, knocking everything down. “You think I don’t fucking want you? I want you with every fiber of my being, you understand? I want... I want...” He shook his head again so furiously, I was afraid he was going to snap his neck. “I want you to be safe. And happy. And Lara... I can’t, I can’t make you happy. I’ll only bring danger to you, and I refuse to be the one that gets you killed.”

  I steepled my fingers over my nose, flaring my nostrils. I tried to suck in a breath, tried to tell myself that he was right, that there was no point in continuing on because at the end of the day, our romance would lead to fire and brimstone and tragedy. And yet, I still felt compelled to cling to this shrivel of hope, this morsel of possibility. Was I a fool?

  “You are the only person I’ve ever felt this way about.” His voice had gone low, gruff. “I thought I was in love with Yvonne. Yvonne doesn’t even come fucking close. You… you have a piece of my soul, Red. And I don’t ever want it back. It’s yours. It’ll always belong to you. I’ll always belong to you. But you are right. We can’t do this anymore.”

  A shudder streaked across my breath and it felt like my entire chest was being electrocuted. I should expect this. I wasn’t surprised. Why did it hurt this much?

  “I can’t keep going in and out of your life, Lara,” he said. “It’s not fair to you. And I can’t keep asking you for help. This ain’t your battle, and I’m not going to make you fight.”

  “I’d fight for you,” I said, my voice shaking. “With you. Anything for you.”

  He curled a strand of hair behind my ear. “I know that,” he said. “It’s why I have to stop coming around.”

  I swallowed. “What’ll you do?” I asked. “Where will you go?”

  He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I sure as shit don’t know,” he said. “But I do plan to finish this. And then I’ll be gone. It’ll be done.”

  “And if there’s a cure?” I asked before I could stop myself. It was probably the last thing he wanted to discuss, but I didn’t care. If the only thing keeping us apart was a cure, I would find a way to make one myself.

  “Lara…” His voice was a warning. “Don’t do this. Don’t hope for something impossible.” He kissed the crown of my head before ripping himself away and disappearing into the shadows. I didn’t even hear him leave.

  It was only then, when I knew I was truly alone, that I broke down and cried.

  Chapter 7

  This wasn’t the first time Jon left, but I had a feeling it was the last. I finished crying after thirty-two minutes. I wasn’t going to help anything by sitting around and wallowing in self-pity. If I wanted to fix my circumstances, I had to actually do something. I wasn’t going to get more information for Jon’s cause. He could do that himself. I was going to find the damn cure for his Lycanthropy.

  I dashed to my sink and dabbed cold water on my face, splashing it on my cheeks and under my eyes. I added extra makeup because I knew Robby would be able to tell if I had been crying and I was not in the mood for an interrogation. Plus, I didn’t want to talk to him. I wanted to talk to Gwen.

  His girlfriend was a witch - literally. I watched her do magic but I had no idea how it worked or what she was able to do versus what she couldn’t or wouldn’t. We didn’t have much time to discuss it since her big reveal was sneaking me out of the hospital and making sure we were safe from another attack. She was the one who brought up Nightshade in the first place. If anyone knew of a cure, it would be her.

  I changed out of my clothes and into leggings and a loose t-shirt. I resisted the urge to look through the laundry to find one of Jon’s and, instead, pulled on one of my college shirts that was large, comfortable, and made me feel relaxed without feeling slouchy. I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and grabbed a purse, heading out the door.

  I decided to walk to Robby’s place. It was a few blocks over in the higher end of the city. Robby did not look like a multimillionaire, living in sweats and muscle shirts, hiding behind a computer and focusing on his hacking hobby rather than on his tech company he started from scratch just by himself. We also used to date, but I broke things off because I was over his nagging and nitpicking and because he spent more time behind his computer than he did with me. I didn’t hold it against him, though. I couldn’t blame him for his passion.

  Perry’s streets were long and somewhat empty. It was a city that constantly had tourism but the winter started to thin people out. It snowed late-December and throughout January and February before things bloomed in mid-March and tourism picked up once again.

  I loved the winter, especially when I didn’t have to be outside. There was always something special about the city during snow - it amazed me how still and peaceful it could be. Right now, there was no snow in sight but it was still cold. I wished I had worn jeans just because the thin material of my leggings was not enough to keep me as warm as I hoped.

  The walk took me a good twenty minutes. Robby’s doorman recognized me, letting me in with a familiar smile.

  By the time I rode the elevator up to the top floor where Robby had his penthouse, I was sweating. The heat here was practically unbearable but that was exactly how Robby liked it, especially in the winter. If he could live in his muscle shirts, he would. I didn’t remember a time when he was in a suit except for my uncle’s funeral.

  I knocked on the front door and was immediately let in by Robby himself. He took one look at me and narrowed his dark eyes.

  “You’ve been crying,” he said.

  “Who’s been crying?”

  At that moment, Gwen walked in, blonde hair pulled from her face in a bohemian-styled braided crown. I had no idea how she was able to do such a thing - I could never get the bump in my ponytail on my head to go away - but I appreciated it. She was always good at that, always good at looking sharp and put-together, which was exactly what Robby needed. I was my own hot mess, chasing truths like hunters chased ghosts. Robby had his own demons. While the two of us got along because we understood one another, Gwen was someone who could pull Robby away from his demons instead of sit down next to them. I still wasn’t sure what the right choice was in a partner. I didn’t know what Jon would give me should we ever get to the point where we could potentially be an actual couple and not two different people caught up in each other because of a fleeting moment.

  I shook my head, ridding myself of the thoughts. I didn’t want to think of Jon. Not right now. Not until I had Nightshade. He was too much of a distraction my mind was more than willing to linger on, and I needed as much focus as I could get.

  “She’s crying,” he said, not bothering to look at Gwen as he headed into the living room. “Why is she crying? Why are you crying?”

  “I’m not -“

  He put up his hand, stopping me. I hated when he did that. It was as though he didn’t want to hear anything I had to say, like his feelings were more important than my own. Like he didn’t want to waste any time on them.

  “Stop doing that,” I said when he opened his mouth, ready to speak. “Just because you hold up your hand doesn’t mean I have to listen to you. You know that, right?”

  “Then don’t lie to me,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest casually, like this issue - which shouldn’t even be an issue in the first place - if I would just listen to him because he was always right about everything. “You were crying. Your eyes are red.” He glanced over at Gwen and gestured with his arms towards me. “Her eyes are red.”

  “Your eyes are red,” Gwen said, her features scrunching up with regret.

  I gave her a look. “Don’t encourage him,” I said.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “What’s happened? This has to do with Jon, doesn’t it? I swear to God, I’ll -“

  I narrowed my eyes. “You’ll what?” I asked flatly. I shifted my eyes over to Gwen, hoping she’d be able to give me a little bit of help. “Robby, can we forget about Jon for a minute?”

  He raised his brows. “Sure,” he said quickly. “Sure, yeah. That dog is forgotten. Absolutely.”

  “Robby?” Gwen arched a brow that was clearly a warning. “We can calm down just a tad, can’t we? I know you have energy drinks coursing through your body like it’s blood, but we need to let Lara talk if she’s going to tell us anything.”

  “Right.” He pulled his eyes away from Gwen so he could look at me. His eyes flickered over me and I saw a flash of intimacy in them, a hint of our history together, and in that moment, I was glad. I was so appreciative of the fact that we had what we had and that we would make it work no matter what. Just because we weren’t together romantically didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends.

  I knew that sounded so incredibly ridiculous. I was smart. I should have known that. Being friends shouldn’t be as complicated as I was making it.

  “Right,” he repeated. He blinked and the intimacy was gone. He was Gwen’s - as he should be. I didn’t want him, but it meant everything, knowing I had a friend, knowing I could count on him at the end of all of this. “What happened?”

  I told them everything about my grandfather, about Jon. I left out the time me and Jon shared together when it had nothing to do with the mission, when it had nothing to do with anything pertinent to them. When I finished, I turned to Gwen. My mouth went dry, not because I was talking too much but because I wanted to hope. I wanted to hope more than anything.

  “Gwen,” I said, my voice shaking. I swallowed, trying to make sure I was able to get out my hopes without sounding like a fool. “I was wondering... Nightshade... is there a way?” I cleared my throat, trying to force the words out. They wouldn’t come. They were lodged in my throat, afraid to actually make Gwen’s acquaintance, worried about being rejected before they even tried.

  Or maybe that was just me.

  “You want to cure Jon,” Gwen said, eyes slightly wide.

  Robby made a grunt of disapproval but otherwise kept his mouth shut. To be honest, I was surprised. I thought for sure he would have something to say, some smartass comment, some disparaging remarks about Jon or my intelligence at wasting my time on him. I wasn’t sure if it was the cutting look from Gwen or if he understood it wasn’t in his best interest to say anything that might upset me.

  Without saying a word, Gwen placed one hand on the small of my back and slowly began to lead me to the worn couch. For someone as wealthy as Robby, he sure didn’t put much effort into keeping up appearances. It was one of the things I admired about him. He wasn’t a cheapskate, but he did care how he spent his money, and I appreciated that.

  When we reached the couch, I eased down in a sitting position on the edge. Gwen sat down next to me, pulling her hand back and placing it gingerly in her lap. With her other hand, she reached up and curled a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Lara,” she said in a way where it felt like good news was not coming.

  I held my sigh in. If she was going to tell me no, I would find another way. I didn’t know how. I didn’t know when. But I would figure that out.

  “It’s not going to be easy.”

  I paused. Tilted my head to the side. That wasn’t a no. I rolled my shoulders back. Caught her eye.

  “You mean, there’s a way?” I asked in a low voice.

  I could see Robby disappear into the kitchen. I was grateful. I wanted to speak freely without worrying that I was going to say something he was going to respond to. With just Gwen, I could talk to her and knew that I could trust her. She wouldn’t judge me or condemn me for my feelings.

  “There is,” Gwen said. She blew out a breath. “Did Robby ever tell you how we met?”

  I opened my mouth, the question dancing on the edge of my lips. How did this relate to a cure for being a Lycan? Why did I want to know about how my ex-boyfriend met his current girlfriend? Not that I was jealous, I just didn’t care.

  But I held it back.

  At the end of the day, she was going to help me. If she needed me to listen to her talk about Robby, I would deal with it.

  I shook my head, running my fingers through my hair. I tried not to tug them, tried not to play with them. I had a sudden wind of energy, though, and I needed to do something or else I was going to leap off of the couch and start pacing a hole in Robby’s living room.

  “He was helping you find information for Jon,” Gwen said, smoothing the wrinkles down on the off-white blouse she wore. “I didn’t know that at the time, but I know it now. Anyway, he found me at a research lab. I’m a scientist. I don’t think I ever told you that. I don’t think Robby did either.”

  I furrowed my brow slightly. Robby hadn’t told me that. I wasn’t sure whether I should be annoyed by that or not. It would have been important information, especially since Gwen was directly involved in Project Bloodshade. Or maybe I was making leaps before she actually told me what happened and how it was relevant to Nightshade.

  “No,” I agreed. “He didn’t.”

  “Don’t blame him for that,” Gwen said, curling hair behind her ear again. I realized she was nervous. Which was strange because I didn’t think I had ever seen Gwen nervous before. “I asked him to keep that from you.”

  I curled errant strands of hair behind my ear, refusing to let myself be bothered that Robby did something Gwen asked him that kept something from me. It was such a petty thing that I immediately brushed it aside. Of course, Robby was going to listen to Gwen. She was his girlfriend. He should listen to her.

  “Anyway,” she continued, resting a handful on her knee. “To answer your question, yes, I do know of a cure, but it’s not easy to obtain.”

  I sucked in a breath. This was exactly what I wanted to hear, and yet, there was something in her tone that seemed to suggest it was going to be much more difficult than I assumed it would be. Nightshade was a plant, wasn’t it? The next logical conclusion would be to then find out where the plant was located and then go get the plant. Whether I had to pick it myself or pay for it, I didn’t care. I would do what needed to be done in order to get my hands on it.

  “Okay,” I said slowly. “Okay.”

  “I might know someone in my coven who has access to it,” she said.

  “How is there a cure your coven has for something the government created?” Robby asked, crossing his arms over his chest, his dark gaze fixed on Gwen. There was a subtle intensity there; I recognized it as the way he used to look at me.

  “You think the government created Lycanthropy?” Gwen asked, arching a brow at him. Her tone wasn’t judgmental, however. It was gentle, if a little amused. “They didn’t. If anything, they must have taken a natural Lycan and ran tests, studied his DNA, and created a serum similar to one already found in nature.”

  My mind flashed back to the man I saw in the glass cafe, pacing back and forth when I had broken into Yvonne’s office. Jon had shown up after the fact, and we got caught. We barely made it out alive, but I distinctly remember that. I distinctly remember that man. Was he another experiment or was he a natural Lycan? Would there be any way to tell?

  I didn’t know, and I felt stupid for asking so I didn’t.

  “Which means there are real werewolves?” Robby asked. His hands dropped from his hips and his eyes were wide. “Like, real werewolves?”

  I furrowed my brow, shooting Robby a look. “I think that’s beside the point, Robby.”