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“That’s not what we were promised. We were told?—”

“I know, and it’s not what I want, either. All right?” I snap and meet his gaze. Then I remind myself that we’re on the same team and gentle my tone. “Sorry, headache. Look, I was under the same impression you were, but that’s not how it played out. I can’t get more. This is it. This is all I have for now.”

“For now?” Gretchen asks.

“He said I’d get a fresh sample every week.”

“Every week? That’s not enough. Not even close.” Evie digs around in her desk and hands me a bottle of ibuprofen. “We need several vials. For DNA analysis alone, we need?—”

“Guys, she said that’s what she received, and she can’t get more. We’ll have to work with it.” Gretchen motions toward Wyatt. “Go on. Tell us what we’ve got.”

I could kiss Gretchen. Instead, I sip more coffee and down the meds.

“First off, the levels of fibrin in the sample are so high as to make it almost unusable.” Wyatt pulls up an image on his screen. “The clotting is also a problem. We need fresher samples. As you can see, the fibrin?—”

“Fuck the fibrin, whatisthat?” Aang points to what should be a red blood cell.

“That was my second point.” Wyatt enlarges the image. “This blood didn’t come from a human.”

“How much of the sample has poikilocytosis?” I lean forward, the image on the screen defying every bit of biological knowledge I’ve studied. The cells should be round with a darker center. At worst, some cells could be mutated into other forms as in the case of sickle cell anemia patients. But these cells are built like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Round with a multitude of spikes protruding from all sides, the entire thing densely packed.

“All of it.” Wyatt expands the image to show dozens of the same cells.

“Holy fucking shitballs.” Gretchen shakes her head. “What the fuck is this? We need to … we need to run DNA on it. It’s not human, but what is it?”

“It’s simply not possible.” Evie squints at the screen. “There’s no basis for that in biology. The cells are shaped more like?—”

“A virus,” I finish for her.

“Yeah.”

“The plasma?” I ask.

“No good. What separated was mostly waste. No antibodies.”

“None?” I look at him.

“I told you, the sample was on the verge of viability to begin with.” Wyatt runs a hand through his shaggy waves. “I did what I could.”

“All right, yeah, I get it. So where’s the lab for DNA? Let’s start there,” I ask. “All we need are some white blood cells. We can cull those out and keep the rest for our studies.”

“Atlanta, but this sample won’t work.” Wyatt frowns.

I need to know more about this specimen. I need to knoweverythingabout it. “We can send it via courier overnight or we can dry some samples and send that way, but we—wait. Zoom out more.”

Wyatt expands the image.

“Where are the white blood cells?” My eyes bounce around the image, unable to focus on any single normal thing in this alien landscape. “Did you separate them?”

“No. That’s why this sample won’t work.” Wyatt sighs. “Thereareno white blood cells.”

* * *

“The bloodyou gave me is next to useless.” I’m waiting in the foyer of my apartment when the elevator opens and Valen appears. “This won’t—whoa. What happened to you?” I step toward him when I see two vicious slashes across his cheek.

“Nothing.” He strides in, this time dressed down in a black t-shirt and jeans that hug his frame. Brushing past me, the back of his hand grazes my arm.

Awkwardness climbs through me, rising all the way to my head as my cheeks heat. He’s entirely too close, too comfortable with just appearing in my apartment.