Chapter 5

FIVE

T he scent of charred chemicals and ozone still lingered in Natalie’s lab the next morning. Yellow caution tape crisscrossed the doorway like crime scene bunting, and scorch marks painted abstract patterns across her usually pristine workstation.

“Well,” she muttered, ducking under the tape, “at least the explosion didn’t destroy my coffeemaker.”

She’d escaped the hospital with only minor injuries and a lingering sense of embarrassment over her concussion-induced rambling. Had she really told Marcus Vale his eyes resembled sexy storm clouds ?

God, she hoped that part had been a pain medication-induced hallucination.

Her modified formula sat innocently in its containment unit, glowing that impossible shade of electric blue. The molecular structure had completely transformed—she could see it even without running detailed analysis. Whatever she’d created in that moment of distraction, it wasn’t a simple matchmaking serum anymore.

“Dr. Grant?”

Natalie jumped at Vanessa Clarke’s voice. Her lab assistant stood in the doorway, impeccably dressed as always in a designer suit that probably cost more than most people’s monthly rent. Something about her sharp-eyed interest made Natalie’s skin prickle.

“I heard about the explosion.” Vanessa’s heels clicked against the tile as she approached. “Are you all right? What happened to the formula?”

“I’m fine.” Natalie shifted slightly, blocking Vanessa’s view of her notes. “Just a minor accident.”

“But the serum—did it survive? Did anything... change?”

The eagerness in Vanessa’s voice set off warning bells. Since when had her usually reserved assistant shown such intense interest in her work?

“Some contamination,” Natalie lied smoothly. “I’ll need to start over.”

“Are you sure? We should run tests, document any mutations?—“

“Later.” Natalie forced a smile. “Right now, I need to clean up this mess.”

Vanessa lingered, her perfectly manicured fingers drumming against the lab bench. “Of course. But you’ll let me know if you need help analyzing the results?”

“Absolutely.”

The moment Vanessa left, Natalie sagged against her desk. When had she become so paranoid? But after her last experience with stolen research...

She shook off the memories and focused on the tests in front of her. Hours slipped by as she analyzed the serum’s new properties. The results made her breath catch.

“This is impossible,” she whispered, double-checking her calculations. The formula hadn’t just mutated—it had evolved into something that could potentially enhance both human and shifter abilities. The implications were staggering.

And terrifying.

Her hands shook as she reached for her phone. She had to tell Marcus. Whatever she’d accidentally created, he needed to know.

He answered on the first ring. “Dr. Grant?”

“I need to talk to you about the formula. The explosion changed it. It’s not what we thought?—“

The lab door crashed open.

Three men in tactical gear burst in, weapons raised. Natalie dropped her phone, heart hammering against her ribs as adrenaline flooded her system.

“Don’t move,” the lead mercenary ordered. “Hand over your research, and nobody gets hurt.”

Natalie’s fingers closed around the nearest object— the fire extinguisher Marcus left next to the worktable. Not exactly her weapon of choice, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“You know,” she said, surprising herself with how steady her voice sounded, “I’m getting really tired of people trying to steal my work.”

She yanked the pin and sprayed.

White powder exploded everywhere. The mercenaries cursed, momentarily blinded. Natalie swung the extinguisher like a baseball bat, catching the nearest attacker in the knee. He went down with a satisfying yelp.

“That’s for interrupting my phone call!”

She sprayed another attacker directly in the face. “That’s for messing up my lab!”

The third mercenary lunged for her. She ducked, years of self-defense classes kicking in, and brought the extinguisher up into a rather sensitive area.

He dropped like a stone.

“And that’s for making me use a fire extinguisher as a weapon. Do you know how much paperwork I’ll have to fill out to replace this thing?”

A low chuckle froze her mid-swing.

Marcus Vale stood in the doorway, managing to make even the act of leaning look commanding. His tailored suit should have been ridiculous in the chaos of a fight scene, but somehow he wore it like armor.

Those gray eyes sparked with something that might have been approval—or possibly amusement at finding his newest employee assaulting armed men with office safety equipment.

“Having fun, Dr. Grant?”

His voice did unfair things to her nervous system. Deep, rich, with just enough gravel to make her brain short-circuit like a badly wired experiment.

“I had it under control.” She gestured at the foam-covered chaos with her makeshift weapon. “Mostly.”

“I can see that.” His gaze swept the room, cataloging the groaning mercenaries. “Though perhaps we should discuss less destructive methods of home defense.”

“Hey, I work with what I’ve got.” She tried not to notice how his shirt stretched across his shoulders as he moved. How had she not realized during their brief hospital interaction just how built her new boss was? “Not all of us can be tall, dark, and threatening.”

His lips twitched. “You seemed to manage the threatening part quite well.”

Before she could reply, more footsteps thundered down the hall. Marcus moved with inhuman speed, placing himself between her and the door. The temperature in the room seemed to drop as his expression hardened from amused to lethal.