Thirty

Leah didn't fear the tunnels. Being forty-feet below ground might not be ideal, but as long as she was with the team, all fully locked and load, there was nothing to worry about. There was strength in numbers, even if most of the team were humans.

But now, she wasn't with the team. Hadn't been for the past ten minutes… Each step she made inched further and further away from safety. Once everything was over, Paul was going to kill her for this latest stunt, but for now, all Leah could focus on was hunting down that vampire. The one who got away.

She was getting closed.

She could feel it.

Taking a deep breath, she carefully stepper further into the barely-lit tunnel. Her gun was held out in front of her, ready to shoot out the ultraviolet bullet at a moment's notice. Her focus was on the winding path ahead of her while her ears listened out for any other movements; it would be easy to pick up another's footsteps, she surmised. The tunnels, even after all these years, were flooded with several inches of brown water—

She didn't see or hear them coming. Seemingly out of nowhere, they all surrounded her, closing in around her, hissing while baring their sharp fangs. Their eyes flashing as their pupils dilated.

She pulled the trigger.

It didn't matter.

They were all on her, dragging her down onto the wet ground, bearing down their sharpened claws on her body. She struggled against their hold, screaming for help, all in vain as their fangs pierced through her skin as they pushed her head into the water, baring her neck.

She tensed at the pain, rendered utterly helpless as the blood drained from her body with suck. And then another joined on the opposite side.

And then another, until they all were feasting on her lifeless body…

Leah's eyes snapped open as she loudly gasped for air, reaching out for anything to grab onto, but it wasn't the gun she was hoping for. Only sheets.

She froze— Blinking a few times, Leah quickly realized that she was no longer inside a dark tunnel with a horde of vampires extracting the life out of her through their fangs. No, she was inside a bright room with her body bone-dry and her eyes stinging from harsh sun rays, not the darkness, peering through the half-closed window shades.

Fuck.

Disorientated, Leah groaned and rolled onto her side. She pressed into the pillow below her, but it didn't help the pain. Her head was pounding. Her mouth was as dry as sandpaper. Her body ached all over as if it being stabbed with a thousand knives while being hit by a high-speed train.

Leah tried sitting up, but her muscles immediately revolted, forcing her to slam right back down. Not onto the ground, but a bed. Staring up at the ceiling, hopeless, her eyes widened upon the realization that she wasn't in her bed. This wasn't her bedroom. Not her apartment.

It was the fear-induced adrenaline that forced her out of bed.

Leah regretted the move immediately.

Holding on whatever was sturdy enough to keep her steady, Leah staggered around the room. She recognized the space, but then she didn't. She was too distracted by the feeling of her body overheating, by the most intense smell hitting her nose, picking up the scent of… fuck, she didn't know, flowers, cleaning products, grime from the city streets, car exhausts, perfume, people…

And then there was the noise. Her ears could pick up on the heavy breathing of two people several feet from beyond the room door, standing around in another room. She could hear the heavy breathing from the apartment above her, beside her, outside. Everything blaring in her ears—

What the fuck was going on?

Leah winced as her ears twitched at the sound of a crash from the apartment below. It sounded like china dishes. A few plates.

She leaned over the dresser, using her arms to keep her steady as she stared at her reflection through the mirror. It was obviously her, but then again, it wasn't. It was as if she was staring at two people. Beings, whatever, not one. It was her face, alright. Her eyes. Her hair—

She froze as the events of last night quickly flooded her mind. The shootout. Those damned tunnels. The gunshots. Jacob standing above her, terrified, ripping off his coat to help stop the bleeding. Her trying to catch her breaths, slowly slipping away, knowing and accepting her end was near. But—

Leah shifted her shirt and looked down. It was gone. No wound. No blood. Nothing but clear skin, smooth more than ever without any trace of a bullet breaking it.

For a moment, she was convinced she had been dreaming. About everything, the raid, the vampires, dying. Maybe last night hadn't happened at all? Maybe the shootout with the vampires was the figment of her imagination? Maybe getting shot had less to do with reality and more about her anxiety about dying on the job?

But it had felt so real. She remembered the unbearable pain, worse than any she had experienced prior. She remembered the blood all over her stomach and her hands. She remembered losing consciousness and seeing Jacob through blurred eyes—

Leah sharply turned around at the sound of shuffling noises coming from the other side of the bedroom door. On instinct, she rushed to the other side of the bed, ignoring her aches, and grabbed the gun off the small bedside table.

Pain shot up her arm as she held up the weapon, but she fought through it. Ready to make a move with a finger on the trigger, she was narrowed her eyes as the door slowly opened.

Oh.

It was just him.

Jacob had his hands up. "Leah…" he breathed out, taking a step back. He wasn't worried about her pulling the trigger, Leah noted. He was concerned, but it had more to do with her rather than the weapon currently aimed at him.

She let the gun slip out of her hands, completely disregarding the chances of a misfire. But nothing happened. She stared up at Jacob, opening her mouth, but no words came out.

"Leah…" Jacob tried again.

Alarmed, confused, and frightened, Leah's eyes darted around the room as Jacob carefully inched towards her with his arms still stretched out. Suddenly, Leah felt woozy, as if her body was ready to collapse onto the wooden floor. As the pain in her mind jumped a ten-fold, her sight became blurred; her hearing turned foggy—

She barely registered Jacob's calling out her name before blacking out.

Leah woke up again.

She was no longer on the floor, but on the same bed she had woken up from hours before. Jacob was sitting in a chair beside the bed, with a coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. He was wearing a general black suit with his badge on the waist and his holster on the other side— so, it was a weekday. A workday.

She whispered out his name, causing him almost to drop his phone. If Leah were in a better state, she would have laughed. But now, all she wanted to reach out to him and… she didn't know…pull him closer to her or punch him square in the face.

And the way Jacob was looking down at her didn't help. His expression was relieved yet cautious. He didn't say anything to her as he placed his phone aside, and she didn't know what to say to him.

She was supposed to be dead—Leah recalled accepting that reality. Not for one moment after leaving that basement, did she think she was going to make it to the hospital. But here she was.

She had so many questions.

"Later."

"For what?"

"Questions," Jacob said. "I'll explain everything. I promise."

Embry suddenly appeared in the doorway. "What is—" Embry stopped. He looked between Jacob and Leah, carefully placed the plate on the table next to the door, and walked further inside, guarded. "Oh, good. You're up."

Leah slightly lifted her head to see Embry entering approaching the bedroom, keeping a wary eye out for any sudden movements, and gently placed the plate on the small bedside table. He shared a glance with Jacob before looking at her. He was concerned, but not as much as Jacob—no, Jacob's worrying was borderline overbearing. Nothing Leah had felt before.

"What am I doing here?" she demanded, looking from one man to the other. They were… she couldn't describe it, but neither wanted to answer her question. Or maybe Embry did, but he was waiting for Jacob to take the lead.

"Resting," Jacob said.

Leah narrowed her eyes. He was… telling the truth. Somehow, she could figure that out, but he was invasive. As if he was worried about how she reacted. "Was it a dream?" she asked slowly.

Jacob shook his head.

Leah laid her hands flat right above the abdomen, the area when she remembered bleeding profusely from. "I got shot," she said.

Jacob cleared his throat. "Twice."

Leah moved her head on the pillow. She was exhausted but wasn't as in much pain as before. She moved her hand in circles above her lower torso without wincing. "But there's nothing..."

Jacob's eyes followed Leah's hand. "You got bit."

Leah blinked. She didn't remind any of that. "By whom?" she asked.

Jacob exchanged a look with Embry and then said in a quiet voice, "Me."

Embry gulped.

"Why?"

"You weren't going to make it to the hospital," Jacob said, feigning apology, but it didn't reach his eyes; he didn't have any regrets for his actions. "I had no other choice."

Leah sat up in the bed, ignoring her sore muscles and Embry's wary looks. He was standing on the side, awkward, not knowing when it would be the best time to speak up. He didn't want to say the wrong thing.

"How do you feel?" Jacob asked, reaching his hand out to place on her forehead. But then he retracted and made a noise in his throat.

Leah didn't know what that was supposed to mean.

"What's the temp?" Embry asked.

Jacob retrieved a thermometer from the small bedside table. Leah allowed him to place it on her tongue, closing her mouth. He took it out when it beeped and read, "One hundred and eight—Not bad."

"Not bad?" Leah nearly shot out of her bed, but Jacob held her down. "Take me to the hospital!" she demanded, thrashing against the much larger man's hold.

And then, she blacked out again.

"How long has she been out?"

The female's voice was unrecognizable.

Leah's eyes slowly opened as she heard Jacob let out a tired sigh. She could practically picture him running a hand through his short hair and say, "In and out every few hours."

"So, normal?"

"Normal."

"Has she phased?"

"New moon's not until the end of the month."

"That doesn't promise anything."

"Yeah… I know."

By the time Leah emerged from the bedroom, Jacob was gone. Work, Embry had told her. But Jacob had promised that he would be back. It wasn't a lofty promise; this was his apartment, and unlike Leah, he spent most of his nights at the place where he paid rent. But she appreciated the gesture.

Embry ended up staying behind.

"Are you my babysitter now?"

Tired of laying down and feeling sorry for herself, Leah migrated from the bedroom (Jacob's room, she realized), into a shower because goodness, and then into the living room wearing a fresh set of clothes dropped off by Sue, the saint. She was now on the couch with Embry, sipping on some much-needed hot tea.

"Someone has to make sure you're okay. Don't worry. Paul's somehow justifying this as police work, so I'm still getting paid," Embry said, wiggling his eyebrows, and then, "TV?"

"Yes, I need something mindless in my life right now."

"Sure thing." Embry turned onto the Bravo channel. Below Deck was on; it wasn't as mindless as the other reality shows on Leah's list, but it was enough to keep her mind off of everything. "My mom likes this show," the cop remarked.

"Really?" Leah sat up further on the couch, watching on as the yacht captain handed out the tips to his crew. She wondered what it would be like, working on a yacht: serving people, getting the ship ready to sail, traveling to some of the most beautiful areas in the world. It might be less stressful than her current job… but she couldn't see herself being in another line of work. She was a cop; she was born to be a cop.

"Oh, yeah."

Leah nodded, and then, "So, what happens now?"

She was still in Jacob's apartment. The man, who had left for work a few hours back hadn't mentioned anything about staying and going. But Embry was here, keeping an eye on her, so she supposed she was supposed to stay put.

"You rest."

Leah frowned. She was never the resting type. After a while, she would start to become antsy. Staying here, watching TV while doing nothing else didn't register. "But work—"

"You have to rest," Embry said more forcibly. A weird tone coming from the usually easy-going guy. "Don't worry about work. At the rate things are going, we're not doing much running around anytime soon."

Leah sighed. "That bad?"

"It's pretty bad," Embry confirmed. "Thankfully, for our favorite captain, he hadn't orchestrated this mess."

"But what about Benjamin?"

From what she gathered, the raid was Benjamin's idea.

"Haven't seen or heard from him," Embry said. "The ATF whisked him away, but from what I heard from Aisha, he's not in trouble or anything. It was a raid featuring vampires—of course, things would go down… Paul's not too happy with him."

"Oh, I can only imagine," Leah said. "I mean, it's not Benjamin's fault…"

"And the raid wasn't a complete failure. We got some people in custody and seized tons of cargo. So, at least, we have that."

"At least, we have that…"

"Hungry?"

"Yes."

"I went to the butcher yesterday, figured you were going to want something fresh when you got up," Embry said sometime later as he emerged from the kitchen. "But obviously, it was kinda hard eating when you're in and out of consciousness."

It wasn't until Embry placed a plate full of meat in front of her did Leah realize what he was talking about. Leah stared down at the plate, blinked, confused. "I don't eat meat," she reminded him. "Strictly pescatarian."

Embry let out a frustrated noise. For a moment, Leah thought he was going to force-feed her himself, but that wouldn't be him. "Yeah…" he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, you're gonna have to get over that aversion. We can't exactly survive on fish…"

"I'd like to try."

"Hey, you do you," Embry replied with a shrug.

He didn't have much faith in Leah's vow.

"That's not comforting."

"I'm just being honest," Embry said. "Try it. If you can't stomach it after everything, we'll… try to find an alternative."

But from the way Embry sounded, there didn't seem to be an alternative—Leah sighed. Her hunger hadn't subsided. She couldn't help but feel that the food-gods (or whatever) were laughing at her as Embry insisted that she downed that horrible, disgusting—desirable piece of meat.

It came out of nowhere. The craving. The meat she was supposed to be pushing away was suddenly in her hands, inching closer and closer into her mouth until she virtually devoured it. One piece after the other.

Jaw slacked, Leah looked up at Embry, not knowing what to do or say next. She could feel a drop of blood at the side of her mouth and instantly licked it off. Moaning... goodness, it tasted so good.

Embry didn't say anything as he took the empty plate from Leah. He placed it aside and bent down to fetch some water. Leah's mouth watered at the sight—she wanted to down it all.

Leah snatched the gallon of water out of Embry's hands and downed half of it in a few gulps. Finished, she placed it side, giving Embry an apologetic look (he didn't mind). Her appetite was going haywire; never in her life had she been this hungry or thirsty.

"I need a drink," she said.

"Yeah, I know."

Leah took a deep breath. "How badly did last night turn out?"

She remembered some of the events. The beginning, the shootout, the children of the moon. Her being a dumbass and running off, getting shot. But she was sure that wasn't all that had happened. As she bled against the stone wall, the action was still happening down in the tunnels.

Embry's face twisted in confusion. "Last night?" he asked, and his mouth formed into an "O" as a realization dawned on him. "Oh no, you mean a few nights ago."

"Excuse me?" Leah thought the man was trying to be funny, but then soon realized that he was dead serious. "A few nights?"

"Yeah, the raid. That's what you're talking about, right?" Embry said. "That happened Sunday night. It's now Tuesday."

Leah's eyes grew wide. "I was out cold for three days?"

This wasn't normal. She shouldn't be going in and out of consciousness. She needed to go to the hospital, especially with her high fever. Maybe that was why she was blacking out; she was dangerously overheated. She had gotten bit by a damn shapeshifter—but everyone was acting like it was normal.

"Technically two and a half," Embry corrected, trying to be amusing, but it fell flat. "I mean, it's normal… I guess. There are a lot of changes going on… but you were fine. Relatively speaking. You were breathing, alright. Your mom came around a few times to make sure Jacob wasn't bullshitting when he promised that you'd be fine. Um, Kim—oh, I don't think you've ever met her—well, she's a vet, and she's been checking on your vitals. Considering everything, you're in pretty good shape—"

"What happened during the raid?"

Embry sighed. "It could've ended better…"

"Like St. Patrick's?"

"In a way, yeah," Embry admitted, but then added, "No one died this time. Somehow. I mean, a bunch of people are seriously injured, some in critical condition. I think, fifteen people… and then, there's you."

Leah's gaze dropped to her lap. "I should've died."

"Yeah, but you didn't," Embry said. "You're one of us now."

When Jacob returned later that day, he wasn't alone.

"My baby!" Sue cried, bringing her daughter into a hug.

Leah wrapped her arms around her mother, ignoring the soreness in her body. She could handle a hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered into Sue's shoulder. Suddenly, she was hit with a flood of emotions from her mother: happiness, worry, anger, and frustration with a sliver of acceptance.

Sue rubbed her daughter's upper back. "There's nothing to apologize about," she said, pulling back. She teared up a little. "Life happens. I'm just glad you're still with us."

Leah softly smiled. "Me, too."

Moments later, while Sue disappeared into the kitchen, announcing how she was going to make a pot of tea and warm up some food, Leah pulled her partner's arm, and asked, "You told her?"

"Didn't have much of a choice," Jacob said, adding a sheepish laugh. "You two are similar in many ways."

"She's fine about it?"

"She knows more than she had let on," Jacob said, pleasantly surprised. Leah had to get used to sensing emotions off the bat. There was no examination needed, no prying, not even a look. She just knew.

And it was scaring her.

"I know this sounds… crazy," Leah would say, sometime later as she cupped the hot mug with both hands, staring down at her third cup of tea. "But, for some reason, I feel like I can read your and Embry's mind. I mean, I can't hear the words, but I can feel your emotions. Intent." She leaned forward. "Tell me I'm not fucking losing my mind."

Jacob shook his head. "You're not."

On Day Three, while walking along the shores of Lake Michigan, Embry informed Leah that Paul wasn't exactly too thrilled with a certain undercover ATF agent.

Leah doubted the captain meant it, but then again, one never truly knew with him. "To no one's surprise," she said, kicking the sand. "But he didn't do anything wrong. It wasn't his fault that everything went to shit."

"Oh, you're right. But you know how Paul is. Always the dramatic one."

"Where is Benjamin anyway?"

"ATF whisked him away," Embry said, attention only breaking as he checked out a rather attractive woman jogging past him. "Haven't seen or heard from him. But I know he's not dead."

Leah rolled her eyes at the ogling. "That's a relief," she said.

"He did ask about you."

"Who, Benjamin?"

"Yeah, but Jacob wouldn't tell him anything. Well, the truth."

Leah respected that. She knew how much keeping things on the low meant for Jacob—when the time came along, she would tell the agent. Maybe she didn't have to. He was a vampire after all, and from what Leah had seen, a vampire could detect the supernatural as well. "Is Paul in trouble? Dead people are never good."

"They weren't his responsibility," Embry pointed out. "And it wasn't his raid. He'll be stuck in meetings until the end of time, but as far as he knew, he's still in charge of Voldemort." He scoffed. "Can you imagine anyone getting that job and not losing their shit?"

Leah shook her head.

"Ten business days, Leah."

"Oh, come on, Paul," Leah whined, something she didn't often do, but she was desperate. There were only so many reality shows and walks on the lakeshore she could endure. "You can't order me to take all of those sick days. You're not even my supervisor."

Which was technically true.

Paul gave the detective an unimpressed look, "Unit this shit-storm is over, I am your direct supervisor," he said. "Ten days is not going to kill you, Leah."

"Paul—"

"And then after that, if you wanna spend all your time chasing around those annoying behind assholes, be my guest."

Leah let out a defeated sigh. "Thank you, Paul."

The captain didn't know it, but Leah vowed to continue fighting for her right to return to work (she wasn't in the goddamn hospital, for goodness' sake).

Unfortunately, Leah fight would have to skip a day for the next morning, she woke up, feeling like her muscles were going to stage a revolt—she didn't understand why she was so sore. She literally hadn't done shit for days.

She thought about swallowing down some prescription-grade pain killers, tough it out, and head to work. But before Jacob or Paul could yell at her, Sue had caught sight of her daughter and demanded that she slowed the Hell down.

To avoid enduring yet another Sue Clearwater-lecture, Leah crawled back into bed.

Her body was happy with that decision, as well as the decision to down a plate full of hamburger patties.

"I thought becoming a shapeshifter makes you stronger?" Leah would complain to Jacob later that evening. "I haven't felt this weak since after my first fitness exam at the goddamn academy. Mind you, I was on my period that day; my ovaries literally declared war on me."

Jacob's faced contorted in disgust. "Okay, first, TMI," he said. "And second, give it come time. Your body just has to adjust to everything."

"This isn't helping."

"Hey, you're no longer blacking out, right?"

"Right."

"Then, you'll be fine."

Leah grumbled before checking her messages on her personal phone. The moment she looked at the screen, she let out a hearty laugh (the first one in days). It was a text from Seth: a grumpy cat meme as a response to her insistence that no, despite being bedridden at her partner's house, he could not eat all of her precious pretzels.

She showed it to Jacob.

He chuckled.

Jacob's face broke into a wide grin. "This whole episode hasn't scared him off?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, no," Leah mumbled, rolling her eyes. "He vowed not to be involved in homicide or any of Paul's gangs."

"Smart man."

Smarter than me, Leah thought to herself, but would never admit out loud. Especially in front of Seth; he'd never let it down.

"Speak of Paul's gangs," Leah said. "How was work?"

"Work," Jacob replied; his expression was far from enthused. "Been writing reports for the past few days."

"That's all you've been doing?"

"Thanks to the raid debacle, that's all we're doing."

Paperwork was, and would always be, a bitch.

"Anyone in trouble?"

Jacob shook his head. "Not from us. And as far as I know, Benjamin's still working undercover."

"Oh good, his cover wasn't blown," Leah said. She was worried about that. Benjamin was a good guy and an asset to the investigation. "Embry says that Paul's mad at him."

Jacob waved dismissively. "You know how Paul is."

"So, is everything on a standstill now?"

"Officially, yes. Some of the higher up's are going to stop by next week and talk to Paul about it— Don't worry, you should be cleared to work by then."

"Can you hear the conversation through closed doors?"

Jacob smirked. "Yes, we can."

"I wanna say that I'm surprised by the turn of events, but then I'd only be lying."

Leah smiled. She was glad to see Paul's face this morning on day four, walking through Jacob's door, tossing aside his set of keys. He was bearing gifts of coffee and breakfast.

Paul joined Leah at the dining room table. "How're you feeling?"

"I should be asking you the same thing," Leah replied before thanking the captain for the much-needed cup of coffee and then admitted, "Like shit."

Paul nodded. "Sounds about right." He placed the back of his hand against Leah's forehead. "Well, you have our body temperature."

The captain appeared to be relaxed, but it certainly didn't reach his eyes. He wasn't Paul at this moment, just an exhausted shell of himself who had been dragged through Hell and back. Not physically, he looked fine but mentally and emotionally drained.

Leah could only imagine the blow-back the captain was receiving because of the raid. The mission hadn't been a complete failure, but it couldn't be counted as a success. People had escaped. People had gotten hurt, and some had even died.

"You look like shit."

Paul froze, seemingly taken aback by the moment, and then let out a hearty laugh. "Thanks. I needed that."

Leah hadn't meant to say it as a joke; it was an honest assessment. But she was glad that the comment took the captain out of his stupor, even if it was only for a short while. "But seriously, you do... How bad is it?"

"People say it could've been worse."

"And you?"

Yesterday afternoon, Jacob had informed Leah that Paul had submitted his resignation letter. And as expected by everyone, the higher powers hadn't accepted it. Apparently, it took them about an hour to talk the captain off of the ledge, reminding him (and being truly sincere about it) that, more or less: shit happens.

Leah honestly couldn't of another person who could do Paul's job as captain of the Voldemort Task Force. The man and the brass probably couldn't either, which was why Paul had decided to stick it out.

The captain shrugged. "I guess it could've been worse…" he trailed off with a sigh. "I keep telling myself that it could've been worse. No one died— Thank you, Detective, for not adding to that statistic."

"Don't mention it," Leah muttered into her cup. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know. The rational side of me knows that, too," Paul said, and then with a pointed look, added, "But then again, we can't all be rational all the time."

Leah nodded. She knew that for sure. "I'm sorry for playing the hero after you explicitly told everyone not to."

Paul wasn't upset with her. He was relieved that she was alive and well, but there had been a reason why he had warned the unit about stepping out of their lane. "You pulled a Jacob-move," he told Leah. "My anti-action hero jab was mostly aimed at him. And a few others, but mostly him."

Leah dropped her gaze and swallowed. "Yeah, I know." The conversation stalled until she spoke up again, "Not that I'm not happy to see your face, but it's the middle of the morning. It's a weekday day. Don't you have a task force to look over?"

Paul gave her a small smile. "They'll be fine for the next hour," he assured her. "Anyway, I'm just here to see that you're still breathing and that Jacob didn't do anything too stupid like put you in a cage."

Leah raised an eyebrow.

"He does stupid shit when he's in panic mode," Paul explained, simultaneously amused and serious. "He gets too much in his head, thinking the world's coming to an end…"

Leah cocked her side to the side. "He's panicking?"

Paul raised an eyebrow. "You couldn't tell?"

Leah could tell. Sort of it. She didn't think it was Jacob just being Jacob. She had been working with him long enough to know that he could be protective (to a fault, it seemed). "Well, tell him there's nothing to worry about," she said. "Giving the circumstances, I'm fine."

Paul didn't doubt that. "I'll make sure to tell him that."

"But you'll be fine?" Leah asked. "With everything?"

"Yeah," Paul said with a nod. "The rest of the summer's gonna be miserable with all of the meetings and shit. But I guess I have no one to blame but myself for choosing to become a captain."

"Did you seriously put Paul in a cage?"

"In my defense, I had never turned anyone before, so I didn't know what the hell I was doing, and have you seen that man when he's raging? I'm pretty sure I've never been so terrified in my life. I think I still have a scar from that night."

"Is it still the most terrifying thing you've seen?"

"Yes, until roughly a week ago."

On Day Five, Leah met up with Aisha for lunch. She had to get out of the house before lost it, and thankfully, Aisha's schedule had been modified based on Sam's availability, so the detective would be free for the next couple of hours.

"When are you returning for work?" Aisha asked before thanking the waitress for delivering her order, and asked when the young woman left, "I missed seeing your face around at the station.

Not until Paul deems it acceptable, Leah thought bitterly. So, it wasn't fair to be mad at the captain (after all, he was looking out for her wellbeing), but she was fine. Still a little disorientated, but she could handle the daily grind.

"Have to check with the doctor," Leah said with a sigh. "Can't do shit until I get a clean bill of health."

And it couldn't be from her general physician. Leah couldn't go to him anymore, especially with her body temperature being a healthy 110-degrees. For now on, Leah had to meet up with Dr. Kim Lopez—A goddamn veterinarian.

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Leah admitted, before taking a bite out of her roast beef sandwich. She was officially addicted to red meat. "Exhausted, actually, but I suppose it could've been worse."

She had experienced "worst", about a week ago, when she was found bleeding profusely against a side of a building—

"He bit you, didn't he?"

Leah nearly spat out her food. "What?"

Aisha sent her friend a knowing look and then nodded. "Oh yeah, he definitely did."

Leah didn't know what to say. She hadn't uttered a word to Aisha about the bite (she fully intended to one day, once her life became more stable). "How did you…?"

"I've worked with the supernatural for years," Aisha reminded her friend. "I know the signs."

"What signs?"

"Well, for one, you're eating meat," Aisha said, pointing at Leah's lunch. "And I do recall Paul mentioning something about you getting shot. Only one week has passed, and now you're all good again?" She shook her head. "That's not what us mere homo sapiens consider as normal."

Leah's gaze dropped to her lap. "I almost died…" she quietly admitted.

"Yeah, Embry had called into the station that night," Aisha said. "Talking about how they lost you because you decided to chase after a vampire."

Leah took a sip of her coke. "Of course, he did," she mumbled under her breath.

Aisha reached over the small circular table to squeeze her friend's hand. "Please don't do that again," she said. "Please."

"I think I've learned my lesson."

Aisha pulled her hand back. "Good."

"How did you know?"

"I just had a feeling."

"I didn't want to put in this position. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I was just a dumbass, thinking it was a good idea to chase after a vampire even after Paul had clearly said not to."

"Wasn't your best decision. But if there's one thing I've learned from being in this business, it's that shit happens. We all make mistakes."

"Jacob—"

"Look, I didn't want to put in this position either, but you weren't going to make it to the hospital. You were barely holding on when I bit you, and I wasn't going to let you die… Never, and to be honest, I'd do it again. I guess that makes me a dumbass, too."