"Please don't tell me," she said, her voice flat, "that this involves a male alien.”
Morgan inclined her head. "There's a reason you're a detective."
The back room had been hidden again, but Serafina could still feel the weight of that intimidating alien behind the glass. How terrifying. She couldn't imagine what he was capable of, but she got the feeling her 9mm would be nothing against him and his formidable armor.
And she was supposed to do whatever it was they were planning... with those things around?
"So," she said, "what do you want me to do?"
Things were starting to come together now. Those questions about her relationship status, about her preferences. The fact there hadn't been any security when she'd walked in.
"I'm not going to let myself get abducted by an alien," Serafina said, "if that's what you're after. No way."
"It's not that." Morgan's voice remained calm, measured. "Why don't you hear me out. Just hear me out, and you can choose if it's worth it or not."
Serafina crossed her arms. "Fine. Let's talk payment first. At least I should know what it's all worth."
"How about this," Morgan said. "If you get through the training, your sister's medical fees will be paid for. All of them."
Serafina went still.
"If you complete the next stage," Morgan continued, "we'll fund her tuition, and give you enough to buy a house in Eagle Rock outright. We'll also establish a retirement fund for Angelo Rossi—half a million dollars, managed and protected."
The numbers hit her like physical blows. One after another.
"And if you reach the final stage," Morgan said, "you won't even have to worry about money. Ever again."
Final stage.
The words sank into Serafina's bones.
"This is fucking crazy." Serafina threw her hands up. "I'm out."
But she didn't get up. Didn't walk out. She just sat there, breathing heavily, nearly hyperventilating, the numbers swirling around in her head.
All her problems. Her family's problems. The burned apartment, Aria's tuition, her pathway to becoming a licensed pharmacist, Angelo's medications eating away at what little he had left...
They were all just within reach.
If she did this one thing.
Why did this feel like she was about to sell her soul?
"Do you need a moment?" Morgan asked. "Something to drink? A coffee? Cigarette?"
Serafina laughed—a short, sharp sound that surprised even her. She'd given up smoking ten years ago. "No. I'm good. Just give it to me."
"Okay." Morgan folded her hands in her lap. "Here's the thing. You were right—in some respects. It is a male alien that we're dealing with. But he isn't going to abduct you or take you away to some distant planet. He just needs a person with a very specific temperament and set of skills. A woman—you—to guide him through a ritual."
"Ritual?" Serafina rocked back in her chair, her heels burning against the floor, her body and legs telling her—get up.
But still, she didn't.
Damned if she didn't want to know more.
"What kind of ritual?"
"It's called a Hunt," Morgan said. "It's a ritual—traditional among a species called the Hyrakki. Part custom, part biology."
