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The memory set off a bomb of feelings throughout my entire body. Wild emotions swirling through my stomach like startled fireflies, racing to my heart, circling it, confusing it...

And to make matters worse, that was the moment when the man with two completely incompatible identities looked up and turned his head in my direction.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

What was I doing here? Why hadn't I turned around and run away yet? Why had I even come here in the first place? Couldn't I have just hidden under my covers and pushed the Erik thing out of my mind?

Shit. I had even forgotten to take Salma.

What was wrong with me? Usually, I didn't make mistakes like this...

“Julie,” my professor muttered, and I looked at him in alarm.

Our eyes locked.

Erik. No. My professor... No, damn it...

Who was this man?

I stared – resisting the urge to look away – so intensely that I lost myself in the warm green of his eyes. Erik's bright eyes, whose color I had often speculated about when I had thought about what this baby would look like.

I no longer needed to speculate. The answer was standing in front of me. Six feet tall, hair like a fallen angel, eyes like crystals from another world that drew me into their unfathomable depths, and the features of a model for luxury razors and aftershave.

No. Julie. No. That isn’t Erik. That is your crazy professor, who threatened you several times and has no scruples about taking your life if necessary.

I swallowed.

You are mistaken. He has you wrapped around his finger. Without even knowing.

The thought of his rough fingers on my body sent throbbing heat down my inner thighs.

I slightly gasped for air, hopefully imperceptibly.

Damn, how embarrassing was this? How uncomfortable and yet so... forbiddenly intense.

I couldn't trust him. And even less could I see Erik in him.

His next words dampened the tingling in my stomach, if only slightly.

“It's about time you came.”

I should be grateful that he was an asshole. That would make it easier for me to separate him from the man who was making my stomach do somersaults.

“Put on some protective clothing and take the test tubes to David,” he demanded, pointing to the empty test tubes on his desk.

I only noticed them out of the corner of my eye, unable to break out of my paralysis.

“And don't forget your ID. It's important that you keep it on you while you're in here if you don't want any trouble with the DUIO.”

He pulled a small white card out of his lab coat pocket and paused for a second, focusing his gaze on something on it. My photo.

Neither Amara nor Margot had had any new photos of me developed in recent years, so this was one of my older ID photos, taken when I must have been just sixteen.

His gaze still lingered on my photo, and I felt an uncomfortable flush of heat burst across my face. Luckily, he put it down on the table the next second without giving the photo another glance.

“This will also give you access to all the experimental equipment in the cabinets. But don't touch anything without my permission.”

And once again, I couldn't help but stare at him.