Wyck looked out over a glittering, nighttime Atlanta, his gaze scanning the rooftops and street below.

Quinn stood beside him, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, holding her lab coat closed. The temperature had dropped, and not just in the city. Things had cooled off between them too. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, but whenever he imagined Quinn dating that obnoxious twit—the same idiot they’d been forced to travel here with—he bristled. It wasn’t Quinn’s fault. He couldn’t blame her for something that had happened before they’d even met.

His foul mood was due to the twit.

Victor had passed the entire taxi journey to Midtown staring at Quinn, making foul allusions to her lack of sexual prowess, and pretending he was better than all of them.

It was enough to make Wyck want to throttle the man. He didn’t even care that taking the guy out would ruin their plans to get into the Nephilim’s club. He would’ve punched the twit moment they were in private anyway, if it hadn’t been for Quinn.

While Victor had been obsessed with her, she’d only had eyes for Wyck, even holding his hand at one point.

She did so again now, bringing him out of his angry memories and back to the present. Her fingers tightened around his and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing his tense muscles to relax.

“Please don’t let Victor bother you. Seriously. He’s not worth it.”

He gave her a side glance. She smiled, stunning beneath the starry sky, her auburn hair secured in a neat ponytail, exposing the creamy expanse of her neck.

“Seeing you jealous is kind of nice though,” she teased.

Jealous didn’t begin to describe how he felt.

“Tell me more about the serum,” he said at last. “About your research.”

What he really wanted to ask her about were her feelings toward him, but he didn’t want to push. This was difficult enough for both of them. Impossible even. Yet he still hoped to convince her things could work out between them and that no matter what she thought, he wasn’t going to hurt her.

“Right. Project Replenish.” She sighed then stared into the distance. The chill breeze stirred around them.

“It was meant to be a miracle of modern science. A genetic alteration that made any food crop virtually immortal, resistant to any disease, insect, or vermin.” She tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Sam and I kept it under wraps for months, wanting to make sure it was foolproof before we made our big announcement. We needed to ensure it was safe and couldn’t be copied for nefarious purposes.” She gave a rueful snort. “Lot of good that did, huh?” Her voice sounded quiet and infinitely sad. Wyck ached with yearning to hold her, comfort her. “

“Anyway,” she continued. “The way the serum works is by triggering a previously dormant genome mutation that leads to increased immunity and life expectancy within the plants cells. The computer models showed it was totally safe and effective in plants. Not so much everywhere else. According to the computer models, if the serum was ever directly administered to humans or livestock, it would have horrid effects. Decay of the cerebral cortex and overdevelopment of the limbic system. As a species we’d return to our most basic state, lose the capacity for language, emotion, any higher functions. We’d become nothing but mindless automatons. Zombies, without the whole flesh-eating side effect.”

Cold shock froze the blood in his veins. “And the Nephilim have this serum now in their possession?”

“Sounds like it. That would explain all those bodies your friends saw. If what Sam said is true and they’re slipping it into people’s drinks here at their club, no one would know.”

“What if they planned to take it beyond this club?”

“A few drops into a community’s water supply and the residents wouldn’t stand a chance.”

He stared at her, the realization congealing inside him like sludge. This conspiracy went far deeper than anyone in the heavenly realms had suspected. They could have a global crisis on their hands. The Scion would be so busy dealing with the fallout, they’d have little time to protect their Seal hosts. If the Nephilim’s ultimate goal was to start the Apocalypse, this was good beginning.

Quinn let go of his hand, wrapping her arms around herself. “I swear I never meant for this to happen. I only wanted to help the world, end famine. But I had a bad feeling the minute Sam announced the sale of the lab to Tolbert International. Then those half-breeds arrived and invaded our lab. From the first moment, I knew something was off about them, that they weren’t…human. I did my best to keep Project Replenish hidden from them, but obviously that wasn’t good enough.” She groaned and buried her face in her hands. “God, talk about an epic fail.”

“This wasn’t your fault, Quinn. You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have though. I should’ve foreseen what awful things might be done with my discovery and stopped. But I didn’t. I was too driven, too focused on my career.” She frowned. “Victor was right. All I cared about was my career, my discovery, my legacy. I never stopped to think about the consequences.”

“No.” He placed his hand on her shoulder, feeling her tremble beneath his touch. “This isn’t your fault. We’ll find those responsible and put an end to their plans, I promise.”

Her gaze searched his, her inner struggle apparent. She opened her mouth, then hesitated, lowering her head. “Wyck, these past few days with you have been wonderful. I have to tell you something... and, well, here goes nothing... I—”

They both tensed, his Scion instincts on high-alert and her Seal’s power surging. Danger approached, the same danger as that first night in the plaza.

Nephilim.

Quinn gasped and pointed toward the stairwell leading down from the roof and back into the club. Victor ran out and toward where they stood, and he wasn’t alone. Two half-breeds were in hot pursuit, their pale skin and white suits glowing in the moonlight. They closed in on the scientist, one with a raised syringe in his hand.

“Oh, God,” Quinn said, voicing his thoughts. “They’ve got the serum.”

Wyck grabbed her and they raced toward Victor. The Nephilim tackled the scientist and attempted to inject him. Victor fought back as best he could and Wyck increased his speed, pulling Quinn along behind him so he wouldn’t lose her. She’d pulled her knife and held it ready for attack. As they got closer, she pulled free and sprinted ahead.

Wyck drew his own dagger and attacked, luring one of the half-breeds away while Quinn and Victor dealt with the other. He circled his opponent, wary of the syringe. The Nephilim attacked, but it was difficult to keep his focus with his Scion instincts demanding he protect Quinn at all costs. The sounds of her fight echoed, keeping him on edge.

The Nephilim swiped at him with the needle, trying to puncture his skin. Wyck avoided the attacks and kept his distance, assessing the situation. The half-breed moved with him, keeping the gap between them steady, and then lunged twice in a row, a smile on his face as if this were a game.

They both looked for an opening.

Then his opponent glanced over to where the other fight took place and Wyck seized his chance, bringing his dagger close to his side, then thrusting the blade forward as he reached the Nephilim. The tip of the blade caught his opponent’s left arm, slicing through suit and skin.

He attacked again, kicking the half-breed in the back and lunging with his dagger again. The Nephilim evaded, slashing at him once more with the needle. Wyck dodged, narrowly missing the syringe. He had no idea of the effects Quinn’s serum might have on an immortal like him, if any.

The other Nephilim screeched, and someone yelled Wyck’s name. He spotted Quinn kneeling, supporting Victor. His Scion mark seared, his calling impossible to resist. The other half-breed dove toward Quinn and Wyck held out his palm, sending forth a bolt of light. It stuck the Nephilim on the right thigh. His opponent screamed but Wyck didn’t hesitate. Raising his hand skyward, he used all the strength he could spare to call on Divinity.

Pain exploded in his left arm.

Wyck stared down at the empty syringe projecting from his bicep, dangling from the needle still embedded in his skin.

“Take that, Scion scum.” The Nephilim spat as he yanked the syringe from Wyck’s arm.

An immediate inferno of agony spread through his veins. The white beam from his palm flickered and the other half-breed encased within it began to break free.

Wyck couldn’t allow that to happen. He had to protect Quinn, protect his Seal. She was his sworn duty, his reason for existence, his heart and soul. He met Quinn’s gaze, fighting the effects of the serum even as it spread through his blood. Sweat broke out across his skin, and he shivered despite his fiery fever.

Blinking hard, he put all of his remaining strength into trapping the second Nephilim within the light and protecting Quinn. She cried out, her lips moved but he couldn’t hear her. His vision distorted. He had to hold on, had to protect her. He couldn’t fail.

She grabbed her knife and sliced into the beam of light. The Nephilim didn’t stand a chance. Quinn quickly slit his throat.

The other Nephilim had vanished.

Wyck silently thanked Divinity for her safety, drowning beneath the dark waves washing over him. His dagger slipped from his hand and clattered to the rooftop.

He collapsed, losing his fight to remain conscious. He didn’t feel the impact, didn’t feel anything in the endless black surrounding him except warmth and peace.

Then a voice called to him.

He heard it not with his ears but with his heart.

Wyck sucked in a breath. He wouldn’t leave her.

My Quinn. He tried to stand, but couldn’t.

Strong hands pinned his shoulders and he fought against his restraints. He had to move. Quinn needed him. She was hurting and afraid. He must go to her.

His arms flailed. There was a crash and a curse then the restraining hands were back. Strength surged through him, fueled by pure Scion fury to get to his Seal, to protect its host, protect Quinn.

“Please keep still!” Her voice sweet to his ears. “Can’t you give him something to knock him out?”

“I’m a little busy trying to counteract your serum!” Victor.

Hands pressed on Wyck’s shoulders again but now he quieted. His senses slowly returned to order, and he mentally checked himself over. His left arm burned from the injection. He remembered it all now. He’d tried to protect Quinn and the Nephilim had seized his opportunity to kill him.

Except he wasn’t dead.

Wyck opened his eyes but the world remained black. Pain coursed through his body with each movement, making him nauseous. He swallowed down the bile and tried to sit up.

“Stop, please,” Quinn whispered, cupping his cheek.

He relaxed, lacking the strength to fight anyway.

“Dark.” The word croaked out of his dry throat.

“I know. Don’t worry.” Quinn stroked his jaw, her touch soft and tender, soothing his pain. “You’ll be fine soon. You were supposed to stay asleep.”

He’d been out cold, but not because of the serum, apparently.

She pressed her cool hand to his forehead.

“Heard you,” he muttered and fought to stay conscious.

“You did?” She leaned in, until her warm fragrance surrounded him—roses and cinnamon and clean woman—and her warm breath fanned his face. Her damp cheek touched his and stayed there. He didn’t want to make her cry. He would survive anything, for her. “Sleep a little bit longer. Pleasant dreams.”

Quinn kissed his cheek and darkness swept over him again.

He wanted to stay with her, but the pull was too strong.

This time was different though. Instead of endless black, a beautiful green valley stretched before him, hills rolling toward a sparkling river and the clumps of trees. Bright sunlight shown from a cerulean sky stretching forever into the distance. He took it all in, such a peaceful place. Wyck wasn’t sure how long he was there. Time lost meaning. He stretched out on the grass, staring up at the sky.

A red kite flew overhead. Majestic and beautiful as it cut through the warm air. Calling again. He stretched his hand upward, as though he could touch it from so far away.

He smiled. For the first time in eternity he felt tranquil.

The sun warmed his skin and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, a plain white exam room had replaced the beautiful valley.

“Thank God, you’re awake.” Quinn leaned over him, her fingertips brushing over his brow. “How are you feeling?”

He mentally checked his body. His arm was sore, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

“Fine.” Wyck frowned down at himself. His blazer and shirt were gone, but his jeans remained. He stared at his left arm. Bandages covered his bicep.

Quinn lightly touched his stomach, placing her palm over his Scion’s mark. Her fingers shook. “I thought I’d lost you. But Victor was able to filter your blood and remove the serum. I bandaged your arm. I’m so sorry, Wyck.”

She wouldn’t look at him. He placed his hand over hers.

“Do you hate me?” Tears slipped down her cheeks and she closed her eyes. His heart ached at the pain etched into her lovely features.

“Never, Quinn. Why would you think such a thing?” He squeezed her hand. She kept her eyes closed, as though she couldn’t face him.

“I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt anyone. I only wanted to help.” She sobbed and Wyck pulled her down to him then, tucking her head beneath his chin and ignoring the bright spark of pain through his left arm from the movement. He didn’t care. Quinn sobbed and he stroked her hair, trying to soothe her. She pulled back, lashes wet with the tears, and he cupped her cheek.

“Quinn.” Wyck brushed her tears away with his thumb. “I know never meant for any of this to happen. You battled the Nephilim as fiercely as I did. You have a good heart. You’re a good person. None of this matters. Nothing matters except you.”

She gave him a shaky smile and he kissed her.

His beautiful Quinn.

He was falling in love with her.