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As I speak, I reach for another vial, but my elbow knocks over a small container. Before I can react, it spills across my workstation, some of the liquid splashing onto my bare forearm.

"Shit!" I jump back, staring in horror at my skin.

"What? What happened?" Emily asks, alarmed.

"I just spilled... fuck, I just spilled active virus on myself," I whisper, panic rising in my chest.

"What? Dahlia, what does that mean?"

"It means I might get infected," I say, already rushing to the decontamination shower in the corner of the lab. "I have to go. I'll call you back."

I hang up before she can respond, stripping off my lab coat and shirt as I hit the emergency shower button. Cold water pours down, washing away the virus… I hope. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat.

Five minutes later, dripping wet and wrapped in a lab emergency blanket, I stare at my arm under a magnifying glass. No signs of infection yet, but the virus can take hours to manifest.

With shaking hands, I draw my own blood, preparing slides to check for infection. If I'm infected, I have maybe 48 hours before the symptoms start, before my body begins tearing apart. But I'm not a shifter, so how will the virus play out in my own body?

I run every test I can think of, checking and double-checking the results. Hours pass as I wait for the virus to appear in my bloodstream, for the first signs of cellular degradation.

Nothing.

I frown, peering at the slides again. My blood looks completely normal. No viral particles, no cell damage, nothing.

"That's not possible," I mutter, preparing another sample.

The results come back the same. My blood shows no signs of infection.

On a hunch, I take a sample of Mara's infected blood and mix it with mine in a petri dish. Under the microscope, I watch in amazement as something in my blood attacks the virus, neutralizing it completely.

"Holy shit," I breathe, watching the viral particles disintegrate on contact with my blood.

I rerun the test. And again. Each time, the results are the same. My blood kills the virus on contact.

My phone rings, and I answer without looking, my eyes still fixed on the microscope.

"Dahlia? Are you okay?" Emily's voice is frantic. "It's been three hours!"

"I'm immune," I whisper, stunned.

"What?"

"The virus. I spilled it on myself, but I'm not infected. My blood actually destroys it."

"Is that... normal?"

I laugh, and it sounds slightly hysterical. "Nothing about this is normal, Em. But I think..." I pause, watching as another batch of virus particles dissolves in my blood sample. "I think I just found the cure."

Chapter 18 - Onyx

"You're going to work yourself to death."

I stand in the doorway of the lab, watching Dahlia hunch over her microscope like it holds all the secrets of the universe. She doesn't even look up when I enter. Typical. When she's in this mode, a bomb could go off and she wouldn't notice.

"I brought coffee," I add, holding up the steaming mug as a peace offering.

That gets her attention. Her head snaps up, and she blinks rapidly like she's coming out of a trance. Dark circles shadow underneath her eyes, and her wild curls look like she's been running her hands through them for hours.

"Oh my god, you're my hero," she breathes, making grabby hands at the cup.