Page 3

Love was the worst culprit.

More than anything, though, I wished I knew what had become of Lydia. Had he killed her and disposed of her body? Had he kept her his prisoner and forced her to continue my work? That seemed more likely. But the one question I couldn’t bring myself to ask was the obvious one. Had he turned her? Whenever it crept into my mind, I shuddered and pushed it away like I’d pushed away the memories of that day so many years ago. I’d become good at it, except when I slept. Traitorous brain.

I moved in with my sister Zoe after the attack. I didn’t want to be alone, as childish as it sounded. And I needed a new job—a means to make back enough money to continue my research. But I hated people and the way their auras seeped into my consciousness, sometimes even leaving stray thoughts like crumbs in my head. Luckily, scientists tended to work in more isolated spaces, but finding a job like that wasn’t that easy when you were as specialized as I was—especially if my real focus would always be on my own experiments.

So there I was, lying on the couch, eating rocky road from the carton and watching reality television in my pajamas at three in the afternoon when my sister burst in with her bouncy curls and bubbly personality. Even her aura showed it, fizzing like champagne.

“Get up, Char,” she insisted, shutting off the TV with a wave of her hand.

“Hey. I was watching that,” I protested, sitting upright and setting down the ice cream on the coffee table.

“Exactly. It’s time to rejoin the world.” She plopped down beside me on the sofa, too close, and waited expectantly, hazel eyes fixed on me.

“I’m looking for a job.” The lie had worked last week. But I suspected its viability was running out.

“I’m not talking about work. I’m talking about dating.” The edge of Zoe’s mouth tipped up like she couldn’t smother the whole grin.

I laughed, but she didn’t. She just waited until I finished.

“Dating?” I asked, voice rising in panic.

“I knew you’d feel that way, so I took the liberty of creating a profile for you on Supe Match.” She lifted her phone and swiped until my own face stared back at me. It was a picture she’d snapped after my doctoral graduation. I looked happy and carefree with my hair loose and reflecting copper highlights in the sun. I’d even worn makeup that day.

“That’s false advertising,” I complained with a groan. Then I grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it. The last thing I wanted was to sit awkwardly in public with a stranger that expected things to end in sex. It wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy the occasional romp in the sheets, but it had to be on my terms and mostly with men that didn’t want anything after. That was the only way I could stomach their self-centered thoughts during the act. I’d had one boyfriend in high school and, during my very first orgasm, had seen him screwing my best friend. Turned out to be a fantasy of his, but it killed both relationships for me, since when I’d told her, she’d become interested in him instead of furious.

“That app is trash,” I said.

“I use it,” Zoe countered. “My last date was awesome. She was part nymph.”

“You’re still single.”

Zoe ignored me and touched a few spots, revealing a list of about twenty men. “These are the ones who’ve responded so far. I’m setting up a date for tonight. Pick one.”

“No.” I stood, dropping the pillow to the couch then stepping out of range.

“I’ll pick then.” Zoe began scrolling, and I sat back down, pulling the cell toward me.

“You can’t make me go.” But I knew she could, and she said as much with her expression. Her specialties were charm creation and transporting people, and though the latter steal a good chunk of her energy, she could totally send me directly into a specific booth at a specific restaurant if she chose. And worse, she was immune to my psychic abilities—probably a genetic family thing, so there was no stopping her.

“I just want you to be happy and get out of this funk. I know you, Char. I know you need this.”

The earnest orange mixed with pink in her aura matched the truth in her eyes. Whether or not she was right didn’t matter. She meant well, and she thought she was, so I turned to the phone with resignation.

“I’ll pick one if you promise this is it—the last time you meddle or put me on an app without permission.”

“No promises,” she said, resting her chin on my shoulder. “And take a shower before you go. Ick.”

Most of the guys who’d answered were clearly players. I couldn’t pick up auras in photographs, but I could read them just fine without the help.

“What’s wrong with that one?” she asked as I scrolled past a handsome fae with pointed ears.

“He knows he’s hot,” I said, flipping onward. Two vampires were on the list, and I passed by them quickly despite their good looks. They were predators, plain and simple, and it was likely a way to secure prey. Which I wasn’t.

“This one,” I said, tossing it back to her. The one I’d picked appeared innocent enough. His nerdy good looks meshed with what I typically went for, but the real reason I’d stopped on him was his nature. He was a necromancer. Rare, but if I could pick his brain about keeping someone alive if the virus were reversed…

“He plays D&D?” Zoe posed it as a question. I’d never gone in for fantasy, even in games.

I shrugged. “Maybe he’ll convince me to like it. Look, you told me to pick, so I did. Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go get ready for my date with…” I glanced at the screen. “Neil.”