“Anything else?” Bridget asked as she typed Kian’s last comment on her tablet.

“No, we are good.”

Well, he was, but Bridget wasn’t.

The doctor should have been soaring on cloud nine, celebrating her success. Instead her expression was pinched, and her hair, which usually hung in soft waves around her shoulders, was all messed up and frizzy as if she hadn’t bothered brushing it after getting out of bed.

Perhaps heading a project of that magnitude was too much for her. It wasn’t like her research, which she could conduct in a leisurely manner with no timelines to stress about and with no one monitoring her progress. In contrast, her new job put her in the spotlight, required endless hours of work, and was stressful in the extreme. And that was before the rescue missions even began.

“You look troubled,” he said.

Bridget sighed. “I’m sorry. You have enough on your plate without wondering why I’m in such a shitty mood.”

“Be honest with me, Bridget. Are you overwhelmed? Is this project too much for you to handle?”

She shook her head. “It’s not about that.”

“Talk to me.”

“It’s personal.”

“Is Turner misbehaving? Do you need me to beat him up?”

Meaning it as a joke, Kian expected Bridget to smile and retort with something witty. Instead, her eyes misted with tears.

What the hell?

Bridget wasn’t an overly emotional female, the opposite was true. What he admired the most about her was her no-nonsense attitude.

“I wish it was as simple as that. It’s the chemo. He is not reacting well to it. In fact, it has gotten so bad that he stopped taking the meds without telling me, but frankly, I can’t blame him.”

“Is he going back on them?”

“I made him promise that he would resume the treatment once all his current files were closed. One of the reasons he stopped was that he couldn’t think clearly and was afraid to mess up.”

She smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s not like he is an office clerk. If he botches up a mission, people die.”

“Understood.”

Taking a deep breath, she raked her fingers through her messy hair, wincing when they hit a snag. “On the remote chance that it might work, Victor wants to attempt transition before going back on the meds.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“Yes. I’m terrified of losing him, and I would’ve preferred to drag it out for as long as I can, but I can’t. It’s not fair to Victor.”

“You love him.”

“Yes.”

“Does he love you back?”

“In his own way, he does. Victor has a limited range of emotions, but I know him well enough by now to realize that what he feels for me is as close to love as he’ll ever get.”

Kian tapped his fingers on the surface of his desk. Bridget’s torment was making him uncomfortable. Seeing her like that and not being able to come up with a solution was aggravating. The best he could offer her was to volunteer to induce Turner, which, providing the guy was indeed a Dormant, would give him the best chance at transitioning.

“We should send Turner to Amanda for testing.”

Avoiding his eyes, Bridget flicked a speck of dust from her tablet’s screen. “I thought about that. But what’s the point? He either is or is not. And he either transitions or not. Unlike the others, Turner already knows about us, so why not go for it? We know that paranormal abilities are not the only indicators. By the same token, we need to consider that not all who have them are Dormants either.” She tried to sound matter-of-fact, but the quiver in her voice betrayed her emotions.

Kian hadn’t considered that possibility, but Bridget was right. Not every human with paranormal talent was necessarily a Dormant.

Still, he felt that Turner should get tested, even if the only benefit would be satisfying Kian’s need to ensure that every possible avenue had been explored. “Nevertheless, I want him to go through the tests. What’s the harm in him doing so?”

Bridget grimaced.

What reason could she have for not wanting Turner to be tested? Could it be jealousy?

Kian chuckled. “Are you worried Amanda will dazzle your man?”

She waved a hand. “Please, don’t be ridiculous.”

Her high-pitched tone suggested that she wasn’t being completely truthful. The thought of her man admiring Amanda’s beauty must’ve irked Bridget, despite the fact that Amanda was taken and that Turner wasn’t the type to flirt with anyone, especially not with a married woman, which in immortal terms Amanda was.

But whatever Bridget’s objections were, Kian didn’t care. “I want you to coordinate it as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

“Humor me on this, and I will induce Turner’s transition myself.”

Bridget put a hand on her chest. “Wow, Kian, I’m touched. I’m sure Victor is going to appreciate your generous offer. It’s a great honor.”

“I’m not doing it for him. I’m doing it for you.”

Reaching over the desk, she took his hand and gave it a light squeeze. “You have my eternal gratitude.”

Or her eternal scorn if Turner didn’t make it.

“Don’t thank me yet. Thank me after he transitions.”

“You’ve just given me a little bit of hope, which is more than I had a few moments ago.”

“I wish I could give you more than just a little.”

“I know.” She squeezed his hand again. “I’ll leave you to your work and call Amanda and Victor to see when is a good time for them both.”

“Let me know when. I’m of a mind to tag along. I’m curious about these tests.”

Bridget rolled her eyes. “As if that is ever going to happen. You don’t have time to breathe, let alone spend half a day in Amanda’s lab.”

“Amanda and Syssi’s lab,” he corrected with a wink.

“Aha, now I get it.”

Kian hadn’t visited the lab since that first time he’d seen Syssi hiding behind a huge computer screen. He wasn’t a sentimental guy, but still, it had been a life-altering experience for him.

So much had happened since.

For a guy with limited empathetic ability, he had no problem sympathizing with Bridget because he’d been through the same grinder before and during Syssi’s transition. The paralyzing fear, the despondent helplessness—it had been one of the worst experiences of his life. If not for his mother showing up to save the day, Syssi might have not made it.

Annani had saved both of their lives that night because if Syssi had died, he would have found a way to end his life as well just to escape the pain of losing her.

Bridget’s suffering had brought back all of those better-forgotten feelings. The thing was, not even the doctor knew what, or rather who, had saved Syssi and later Andrew.

It hadn’t been the goddess’s blessings, or her prayers, or whatever other nonsense they had told everyone. It had been her blood.

Only Kian and Alena knew the truth, and they guarded it with their lives. If word got out that the goddess’s blood could miraculously heal humans, her life would be in even greater danger than it was now.

She could save Turner as well, but should he ask his mother to donate her blood for Turner?

Not for Turner. For Bridget.

As much as he appreciated the guy and thought of him as a powerful ally, asking Annani to do that for him was highly inappropriate.

She’d been using her blood for centuries to turn the clan’s girls, no one else. The only exceptions were Syssi, because she was his truelove mate, and Andrew, because he was Syssi’s brother.

Bridget was a distant granddaughter, not a direct child of Annani.

Except, the goddess had a soft heart and she might agree to do it for love.

The question was whether Turner was indeed the real deal—a Dormant and a truelove mate. Both conditions had to be met before Kian could approach Annani about it. Except, ascertaining both was impossible. The best he could do was run Turner through every conceivable test.

In the final analysis, though, Kian knew it would come down to him trusting his gut.