Chapter Two: Fever

Lucas didn’t stir after few minutes, she laid him down.

The hotel room was dim, warm, scented faintly with whisky. The curtains were drawn tight. Rain tapped against the windows like fingers scratching to get in. She watched him for a long moment, her amber eyes unblinking. Blood had begun to dry on his temple. His pulse still throbbed beneath skin too pale.

Stupid human, she thought, but there was no heat behind it.

She moved fast. The first aid kit was already on the counter. She dumped it out, fingers selecting what she needed with a speed born from decades of knowing what injuries looked like some which ones killed and other which ones left scars.

This one would scar. 

Selene grabbed a towel and soaked it in warm water, knelt beside him and began wiping the blood from his face, slow at first, then firmer when it wouldn’t lift.

Lucas winced.

His lashes fluttered. His lips parted.

“Stay still,” she murmured. “You’re safe.”

He blinked up at her. “You… what happened?”

“Some assholes tried to jump you. You hit your head pretty badly.”

Lucas tried to sit up. She pressed a hand to his chest — firm, but careful not to bruise.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said. “And don’t move unless you want to vomit on my sheets.”

He blinked again, clearly dazed, then slumped back against the pillow. “You carried me?”

“You were bleeding. You needed help.”

There was a beat of silence. Her fingers traced his temple, then dipped to his jaw, brushing against a smear of blood he hadn’t noticed.

“You’re warm,” he said quietly.

“You’re not,” she replied.

He didn’t ask who she was again. That surprised her.

Most men would’ve screamed by now, seeing how she had dealt with his attackers. This unnerved her like he somehow knew — without understanding — that she wasn’t going to kill him.

Not tonight.

Selene worked quickly, cleaning the gash with disinfectant. He hissed when the alcohol touched raw skin. She didn’t apologize. She held his jaw in one hand to keep him still while the other dabbed and pressed. 

“You’ll live.”

He gave a faint, sardonic smile. “Lucky me.”

She sat back on her heels, studying him in silence.

“You’ve been following me,” he said after a moment.

The way he said that it certainly didn't seem like a question.

Selene tilted her head. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you caught my attention.” A beat. “And I don’t lose things once I catch them.”

Lucas looked at her — really looked — and something flickered behind his eyes. Fear, maybe. But not enough to get up and run. He swallowed.

“Are you dangerous?”

Selene smiled, slow and sharp. “Yes.”

He nodded like that made sense. Maybe it did, in some part of his mind that was still dazed and hadn’t unlocked yet.

“You should sleep,” she said, rising to her feet. “You’ll be dizzy for a few hours.”

“I don’t even know where I am.”

“My hotel.”

“That’s not creepy at all,” he mumbled.

“You’re alive,” she said flatly, turning her back. “You’re welcome.”

She pulled off her coat from him, draped it over a chair, and began untying the boots she'd been wearing all day. Her shirt clung to her back, rain-soaked and tight over muscle and lean curves. She moved with silently and with grace for someone who looked like a martial art master.

Lucas sat up, winced again. “What are you?”

She didn’t answer right away. She crossed to the kitchenette and poured him a glass of water, then brought it back.

“Drink,” she said. “You lost blood.”

“You didn’t answer.”

“I don't plan to. Yet”

Lucas sipped the water, eyes never leaving hers. He wasn’t shaking anymore. The adrenaline had worn off. In its place was that strange, coiled awareness that had begun in the alley — the sense that something had started between them and couldn’t be undone.

Selene pulled the desk chair closer and sat, one leg crossed over the other. Her black hair still dripping wet from rain at the ends, trailing it onto the carpet.

“Do you have a habit of walking where you shouldn’t,” she said finally.

“Bad night.”

“You’re lucky I was there.”

“Lucky?” His tone was dry.

“I don’t save people, Lucas.”

The way she said his name made him pause. Like she’d rehearsed it in her mouth a hundred times.

“Then why did you save me?”

Selene didn’t answer right away. Her amber eyes locked onto his, and something deep, buried, shifted behind them.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “Maybe I was just... curious.”

Lucas leaned back slowly, the pain in his skull blooming again. He closed his eyes for a breath. When he opened them, she was still there — watching, waiting.

He should’ve been terrified. But her voice and presence was too calm and hypnotic. And underneath it all was something else that he could see. Desire, maybe or danger. Probably both.

“I’m not sure whether to thank you or report you,” he muttered.

“I’d be flattered either way.”

He chuckled weakly. “Are you always like this?”

Selene stood, walked toward the bed, and paused at the edge. Her fingers brushed his hair away from the fresh bandage.

“I’m not like anything else,” she whispered.

Then she turned and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

Lucas stared at the ceiling. His heart was still racing. The bandage on his head itched. He should have called someone. He should have left.

But instead, he rolled onto his side and breathed in the lingering scent of her on the bed.

He didn’t know her.

But now he wanted to.