Page 29 of Twisted Devotion

Sucking in a shallow breath, I quickly throw the walls around my emotions back up. I hadn’t even realized my aura was on display. “You wish,” I mutter, staring forward. I’ve gotten used to keeping my feelings under wraps. Part of my role is to keep things under control, and if my aura is showing, that could potentially make things tricky at times. As much as I’d prefer not to have to put in the effort to shield it, it comes with the job.

He whistles under his breath. “Grouch.”

“Bite me,” I shoot back, though the harshness is all but gone from my tone. This back and forth banter is regrettably entertaining.

“Oh, you’d like that.” He leans in until I can feel his breath on my cheek. “Far more than you’d like to admit, I suspect.”

“You’re a detective now? Good to know.”

He chuckles. “I never took you for the smartass type.”

That’s because I’m not.It flares up in his presence, though. Annoyingly enough, he does have an effect on me. As much as I wish he didn’t.

“We’re all good down here,” one of the fae calls up to Jackson through a speaker in the wall behind us.

He turns his face away from me and presses a button on the speaker to respond. “Go ahead and begin when she’s ready.”

The fae girl nods, forcing a smile and closing her eyes, and the others get to work. One of them lines up the syringes, filled with blue and purple serums, while two others strap the girl to the bed. I’ve never asked what exactly is in the serum, and I have a feeling asking Jackson would be useless. I’d bet that his answer would be as intelligent asI don’t know. Science?He might run this show, but it’s the people in the room below us that make it happen.

Transitioning from fae to human, while complex when it comes to the science, is fairly simple on a procedural level—granted it works. One serum is injected, then the other. It causes immeasurable agony. The subject oftentimes passes out from the pain—and occasionally doesn’t wake up.

Emma explained the procedure to me during my first week here, as standard protocol for any new employee. The client is injected with DNA splicing elixirs. One breaks down the fae magic running through their veins, while another wipes it out. The last mixture mends the strands of unrelated DNA that might have been damaged during the first part of the process. Lastly, the client undergoes a complete blood transfusion from a human donor to remove any remnants of fae magic and further the healing part of the procedure. It makes my head spin if I think about it for too long.

When Shannon turns to the tray of syringes and picks up the one with clear contents, I turn to Jackson. “What is that?” I don’t remember a clear elixir being part of the process Emma told me.

“A very potent painkiller. Basically jacked-up morphine. As you know, the procedure isn’t exactly pleasant, so we do our best to make the client comfortable.”

I turn back to continue watching. “Oh.”

The entire procedure takes about thirty minutes. The client manages to stay conscious throughout, but her face is as white as the sheets she’s on and her heart is beating so fast she’s broken out in a sweat. Her aura, strong and vibrant at the start, has faded measurably, exhaustion leeching the energy from her quicker than any fae could.

I’m exhausted just watching it unfold in the room below, and I’ve never been so grateful for Jackson to speak as when he says, “It’s over. Looks like she did well.”

I glance at him and nod, then look down at the girl. Her eyes are closed, but her chest is rising and falling evenly. I let out the breath I’ve been holding. “What happens now?”

“They’ll give her more painkillers and take her to the recovery suite until she’s completely through it. It’ll take a few hours to work through her system, but the worst is over. We’ve been working on the serums since the start of this practice and have made great progress with streamlining the transition and shortening the recovery time.”

“That’s good,” I say, because I don’t know how else to respond.

Jackson smiles, nodding again. “Come on, Red. Let’s eat.”

10

“Ithink I’m just going to grab something from the fridge,” I say once we’re in the hallway. As much as I love sushi, I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out on a date-like scenario with Jackson. I can accept that I have to spend my days with him, but eating lunch in public like normal people . . . it seems like crossing a line. One that—if I get too close to—could ruin my chances at winning our bet. Perhaps that’s exactly what he’s going for. I’m not about to fall for it.

“What?” Jackson’s voice is filled with confusion.

When I turn to look at him, his lips are turned down. “Yeah. I’m not really in the mood for raw fish.” Or being forced to sit across from him and struggle to make small talk without thinking about leaning across the table and—

“I’m basically offering you the afternoon off, and you’d rather eat some of the questionable food in the kitchen?”

I almost crack a smile. “Sorry.”

He shrugs. “It’s fine, Red. You’ll just have to make it up to me tonight.” I open my mouth to respond, but he adds, “With dinner. I think it’s timeyoucook forme.”

I cringe outwardly. “I really don’t think you want to do that to yourself. You’d have better luck with whatever’s in the fridge here.”

Jackson laughs deeply, and the sound warms my cheeks. “I think I’ll take my chances.” He shoots me a wink. “I’ll be there to help you out.”

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