Chapter One
EVIE
This had the potential to actually ruin my day—and I'd already burned my temple with my curling iron that morning. I scanned the email's highlights, snagging on the lines that injected my veins with cold fear.
… received word that you are the target of a dark web game.
Your Rh-null blood type has become a dangerous objective…
Please believe me. This is life or death.
I lowered my phone to my lap, staring out of the bus window and forcing my lungs to take on a calmer rhythm. This had to be a scam. A very specific, uniquely terrifying, but absolutely fake scam. Except they hadn't asked for anything. They'd just offered information. I swallowed even though my mouth was dry and brought the phone to my eye level. Gamely, I convinced myself to read the entire thing again.
Dear Evelyn,
I feel compelled to warn you about a dangerous situation, and I hope you will read this in its entirety. I have received word that you are the target of a dark web game.Upper echelons across the world have taken to using their resources to amuse themselves with complicated challenges—treasure hunts. The prize is unfathomable wealth in cryptocurrency—untraceable. There are challenges of every kind across the globe, each more hazardous than the last. Your Rh-null blood type has become a dangerous objective in one of these challenges. I'm sure you're aware that you're one of less than a dozen individuals in the world who possess this blood type. The clue given points directly to you, and although I have turned a blind eye to a number of unethical challenges for this group, I could not ignore this one. Not when it puts an innocent young life in danger.
Please believe me. This is life or death.
I have included the original clue in this email so you might confirm what I have deduced, that you are the target of this challenge. I urge you to guard yourself, to hide somewhere these individuals cannot find you. Do not reply to this email; I will not receive it. I wish you the best of luck.
Morrow
The hive is hidden in the damp green. Its queen walks alone, crowned in gold that floods her veins. A drop of her blood is all that is needed, but heed one vital warning: Kill the queen and lose the game. All other means are fair.
The bus went over a speedbump too quickly, causing me to jostle to the side. A growing sense of paranoia crept up from my stomach to my chest, and I looked around the mostly empty city bus, eyes jumping from passenger to passenger, looking for… what? Enemies?
I shook my head and clicked off the screen firmly, setting the phone in my lap. It was true that the clue had facts about me that were familiar but anyone who looked me up could concoct that. And, although I was no one in the grand scheme of things, myparentshadbeen influential. Before their untimely deaths, they had both been outspoken environmental lawyers who traveled the globe in pursuit of healthier communities. After their small, personal plane had gone down in Thailand, I'd assumed their political enemies had forgotten about them.
But perhaps not. Perhaps someone held a grudge and wanted to instill fear in me all these years later.
I smoothed my daisy-patterned skirt over my knees, letting my heartbeat return to normal and my shoulders relax. Alright, so this was alarming, but that didn't make it real. I lived in a safe rural town. I was no one. Just an apiarist who went to the city occasionally to sell bee venom to medical researchers. No one was chasing me.
I lifted my chin and curved my lips upward. Warm sunlight from the bronzed evening kissed my cheeks, and I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. Everything was fine. Once I was back home, back on the farm, everything would be fine. Reine Apiary wasn't strictly a farm, but we did have some goats, and my nan grew all kinds of odd vegetables and herbs in her little garden.
When I opened my eyes again, I found the bus approaching my stop, so I stood and gathered my tote bag and purse. As the bus came to a lurching stop, its doors hissing open, I glanced around the busy Seattle streets. Everyone had somewhere to go, their eyes on their phones, their watches, their destinations. I scanned my bus pass and waved to the driver who didn't even look at me. Yes, everything was normal. I could look into the email later, but for now, I had a job to do.
I alighted to the sidewalk, and I found myself surrounded by people heading home from their office jobs. In early spring, there was still a faint chill to the air, and I wrapped my white, crocheted sweater a little tighter around my yellow dress before joining the flow of foot traffic.
Cascade Biomedical Research Institute had several departments within its shiny, geometric walls, but I wasn't sure what they all were. They simply listed the doctors' names on the directory in the cavernous foyer or, obscurely, it would say, "Floor Three." There were guards stationed at the entrance as I went through the heavy glass doors, and I passed through a metal detector and had my bags scanned before I was allowed to continue to the modern, floating staircase wide enough for two buses to fit side by side. I wasn't sure why they needed so much empty space on their stairwell. Maybe one of the floors was for elephant research.
I started up the ostentatious stairway, my left hand gliding over the metal railing and my eyes drifting up to look at the fractured glass sculpture hanging from the domed ceiling above. Sunset painted the walls in warm hues of ochre and peach, and I absorbed the way the colors refracted off the twinkling glass into rainbow fractals. Had the artist meant for it to light on fire every sunset? Had they intended to turn the ceiling into a crackling brazier of shattered color?
I tripped suddenly, and before I could catch myself, I fell hard onto my knees. With a quiet shriek, I clung to the railing, managing to save my knees from taking my full weight, but pain blossomed from my kneecaps to my calves anyway. That was going to bruise. "My stupid, wandering brain," I muttered, pulling myself to my feet slowly. My tote bag, decorated by my nine-year-old cousin and her paint set, slid off my shoulder, and I hurried to adjust it so it stayed in place. The clink of glass vials inside the bag reminded me that I had bee venom in vials rolling around in there. If I'd fallen and broken them, I'd have kicked myself, bruises and all. I peeked inside the bag, but the vials of white powder remained intact.
Breathing out a sigh of relief, I hurried up the rest of the stairs to the fourth floor. I kept my eyes on my feet and remindedmy mind not to wander. It was a tall order for my flighty brain, but until Dr. Wells had the bee venom, I had to be careful. As I climbed, someone started up the stairs behind me, their steps faster than mine and distinctly male. Ordinarily, I wouldn't think twice about that, but after the email…
I climbed faster. Surely, no one would attack me here, even if the email was real. It was too open here, too bright, too safe.
The footsteps grew louder. Faster. I looked over my shoulder, just making out the figure of a tall man dressed all in black. He was hurrying up the staircase now, his pace too quick for someone casually climbing the stairs. My heart took off at a gallop, and I turned forward again, pushing my legs to practically run up the stairs. I tripped on my dress, nearly faceplanting as I reached the fourth floor, and then I veered left. I rushed down the hallway, and the footsteps gained on me, following me onto the same floor. As I reached for Dr. Wells' door, my long cotton dress caught on my sandals again, and I stumbled, falling into the frosted glass with a loudbang.
A strong arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me up and away from the door. I sucked in a shocked breath. This couldn't be real. Someone was attacking me. Right here. In a medical research building. I struck out blindly, fighting the black-clad figure and pulling against his hold. "Get off!"
"Whoa," he grunted, stumbling away from me. "Easy, ninja."
I shrank away from him, pressing my back against the door and fumbling blindly behind me for the latch. He looked unfazed by my attack, his long, elegant hands in the air and one dark brow slowly arching in derision.
I froze, all thoughts of escape forgotten. He wasbeautiful. Devastatingly beautiful. If this was who had been sent to drain the blood from my body, then I should just ask for my last rites now. It wasn't just that he was tall and well built, or that his frame filled out the designer, black T-shirt like he was madeof daydreams and marble. It was that his face was completely arresting. His lips, just the right fulness, were slowly tipping up into an incredulous smile, which highlighted his somewhat unusual, angular features. High cheekbones cut sharply across his long face, perfectly accenting tilted, light blue eyes framed by dark lashes. A pair of thick, deeply arched brows seemed to mock me without even trying, and his curly, dark brown hair had been swept away from his forehead with apparent careless ease.
