32. Factoring in the Heart
Chapter thirty-two
Factoring in the Heart
Nicolette
I rubbed my eyes as I stared blankly at my mother’s computer screen.
It felt like I’d been doing it for days.
I supposed I had been. Every night after work that week, I’d come home and try to break into my mother’s files.
Julian and I agreed it was best to keep the laptop hidden in the penthouse safe and pretend we were living normally so we didn’t generate suspicion.
But this week had been anything but normal—even for being married to a vampire. It had involved everything from taking samples of Delia’s blood to attending an awkward family dinner the night before at the Rossis’. Julian had insisted that we go to observe his “inner circle,” as he called it.
Nothing said fun like a dinner with a possible killer.
And we seemed nowhere closer to knowing who it was.
Amos was as funny and kind as ever. Simone just wanted to talk about what I thought about DNA-lipid nanoparticles.
My mother-in-law and father-in-law were as fake as ever, fawning over me in front of Julian.
A few of the other “cousins” were there, but no one gave off I’d like to meet you in a back alley and suck out all your blood vibes.
The icing on the cake, though, had been when Bianca announced to everyone that Julian and I had finally mated. She was wrong, but apparently we smelled enough like each other to appease her. Though she found it odd that Julian smelled more like me than I did like him, she had brushed it off.
If she only knew her son had been taking tiny amounts of my blood every day.
I feared what I was doing to him, but we needed answers.
Answers only my blood and his together could give us.
Though it was hard to get them, considering Cyrus had become my new lab partner, helping me analyze Delia’s blood.
Julian trusted Cyrus, but I still had my misgivings.
Especially since he’d told Daphne they were just too different to make things work.
Poor Daphne had taken that to mean that he was European and she was American.
If only she knew how truly different they were.
Admittedly, I was glad Cyrus wasn’t pursuing a relationship with my best friend. It was safer that way.
I leaned back on the couch, staring at the encrypted folder taunting me from the corner of the screen.
My mother had locked it tight for a reason.
It was something intentional. Something she never meant for just anyone to open.
And every time I tried to crack the code, I felt like I was trying to peel back a piece of her I wasn’t ready to see.
Delia’s blood results flashed through my mind—her altered enzyme activity, the weird shift in her plasma-binding markers, the way her metabolic profile didn’t match any known vampire baseline, according to Cyrus.
Cyrus, who had been annoyingly helpful. I had to push away thoughts that that was all part of his plan to lure me into his trap.
I had no choice but to trust Julian’s instincts about Cyrus for now. It felt like a race against some invisible clock—I didn’t know how much time we had left.
We still didn’t know exactly why the plasma treatment was no longer effective for Delia.
And I was concerned that she might become a danger to society.
I feared there were others like her out there.
We started supplying Delia with blood just in case.
Though she loathed it. She even cried when she had to take it.
Unfortunately, it was the best we could do for now.
Anything else might draw attention to her and to what we were doing.
She was currently taking some time off for her “health.”
I’d thought about giving her my blood to see if it would stabilize her, but it was too risky.
If it worked, then I’d have just handed a woman I didn’t trust a part of me that would be dangerous in the wrong hands.
If it didn’t work, there was the possibility I could make her bloodlust worse.
And from a scientific perspective, it was best not to muddy the waters.
We needed conclusive answers as to why the cure had failed.
I grabbed the locket around my neck and squeezed it like it might somehow give me the answers I needed. “Mom, what did you do?” I whispered to myself. Frustration surged. I ripped off the necklace and chucked it across the room.
Julian happened to be walking over from the kitchen carrying a cup of cocoa for me—his own special mix. His reflexes were ridiculous; he caught the locket midair without spilling a drop.
He set the cocoa down on the coffee table before dropping beside me. He dangled the locket in front of me.
“You may not want to give up on your mother just yet. You may regret it.”
I grabbed the locket and the laptop and set them next to me.
“She’s left me with such a mess.”
Julian wrapped an arm around me, and I tucked into his side, exhausted. So exhausted.
“How are you feeling? I need to take your vitals and draw some blood. I should be monitoring you more closely.” I’d been so worried about what my blood was doing to him. Was he going to end up like Delia? Blood crazed?
“Relax, darling. I feel incredible.”
“But for how long?” I murmured, the fear slipping out before I could stop it.
“For as long as you are mine.” He kissed my forehead.
“You know, you really make it hard for a girl to stay mad at you.” Not that I was anymore.
Julian chuckled. “I’ve had six hundred years of practice.”
“Is that so? You’ve ticked a lot of women off?
” For some reason that made me feel jealous.
Of all of them except Giovanna. Maybe it was something about how sacredly Julian spoke of her and his daughters.
In some weird way, I felt a kinship with Giovanna.
Like we were the only ones who knew his human side and it bonded us.
“More than my fair share, but none that I loved more than you and Giovanna.”
And there it was again. That word. Love . It hung between us like a held breath. I stayed perfectly still in his arms, wrestling with the truth I wasn’t ready to say out loud.
“You don’t believe me? Or do you wish for me not to tell you how I feel?” Julian asked, his voice low and hesitant, like he was afraid of the answer.
“I just find it almost comical how we’ve ended up. I swore I would hate you forever, and now I long to be in your arms. It’s the only place I feel safe.”
Julian’s fingers danced down my arm. “Will you still wish to be in them once the threat is over?” He sounded so timid. So human. It was unlike him.
I hoped there would be a day when the threat was over.
But I had a feeling that living in his world would always be dangerous, especially if I found a cure.
“Oh, I don’t think the threat is going anywhere.
It will just shift. We’ll probably be stuck with each other for a long time,” I said playfully.
With the crook of his finger, he lifted my chin to meet his gaze. “I don’t want you to be stuck with me. I want you to want me.”
“Julian,” I whispered, “you know I want you.”
“That’s not what I’m asking. Your pulse and your raised temperature tell me how much you want my body. But do you want me?”
“Are you asking me to go steady?” I teased.
He leaned his forehead against mine, his lips ever so close, begging to be tasted. “I’m asking you to be my wife.”
“I think we’re a little past that.” I giggled.
“No.” He shook his head. “This time I’m asking. Not coercing. How I went about it before was a mistake. One I will not replicate.”
I tilted my head. “Replicate?”
“I don’t want to repeat my mistakes,” he clarified.
I didn’t need him to clarify. It was just that his word choice—“replicate”—was sticking with me. And then it hit me. “Replication matters,” I whispered as I untangled myself from Julian so fast that he blinked.
“Is that a no?” Julian asked, confused.
“No.” I grabbed my mother’s locket.
“No, you won’t be my wife, or no, it’s not a no?”
I didn’t mean to ignore him, but I did. My hands trembled as I carefully opened my mother’s locket as if it held some ancient treasure. Inside was my favorite picture of us—the day I graduated from medical school. I was holding up the sign I’d made: REPLICATION MATTER S.
It had been an homage to her. DNA replication—a cell duplicating its entire genome before division, ensuring each daughter cell got an identical set of instructions. It’s a mother-daughter thing. I was my mother’s legacy.
“Julian,” I breathed, my heart beating out of my chest, “replication matters. My mom hid this locket in her desk for a reason. What if . . .”
I grabbed my mother’s laptop, adrenaline flooding through me.
“What if this locket—and that sign—are the key?”
Julian scooted closer to me, sharing in my bated breath.
I killed the program we’d been using to brute-force her files and clicked on the encrypted folder—the one with the little padlock icon mocking me from her desktop.
When the password box popped up, I typed REPLICATION MATTERS in all caps, just like on my sign.
My fingers shook so badly that I had to retype the last word.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Julian and I both let out the breaths we’d been holding, disappointment settling over us.
Then the screen flickered.
Lines of what looked like random data began to spill across the display, filling it faster than I could process.
Julian and I sat motionless for minutes as the data downloaded.
When it was finally complete, I scrolled through it as fast as my eyes could track.
This wasn’t random data; it was formulas and calculations. And patient files. Two, to be exact. One for Patient A—female. The other for Patient B—male.
Interesting. Very interesting.
My guess was Delia was A. But who was B? The vampire who killed my mother?
What followed those were notes. Dozens of pages of them.
But one stood out above all the rest.
Observations from the day my mother discovered a rare protein in my blood. She called it . . . the Hart Factor.
Tears welled in my eyes. Something about the name made me forget, just for a moment, the mess she’d left behind. All I could see in those two words was the love she had for me.
“What is it, darling?” Julian asked, concerned by my sudden emotion.
I pointed at the screen.
“The Hart Factor,” he read aloud. “How fitting. The Hart Factor has affected me more than I ever dreamed she would.”
Though I had a full night of sifting through my mother’s files ahead of me, I wanted to give Julian this moment. He’d been my partner in all of this.
I turned to face him. His gaze was fixed on me, and such passion lived in his azure eyes—the color my blood had turned them. There was something poetic about it. It connected us in ways that went far beyond saying “I do” in front of a priest.
Julian ran a finger down my cheek.
I caught his hand. Something about him seemed so different. Warmer. Softer. It was like he was changing right before my eyes. “We really need to run some blood tests,” I blurted, ruining his sweet sentiment.
Julian grinned and pressed a finger to my lips.
“Your mother’s files. The data. My blood.
It can wait a few minutes. Nicolette, I know we said we would put a pin in our relationship, but we don’t know what might be coming our way as we delve into your mother’s research—and even your own.
I just want you to know that I’m here for all of it.
I suppose what I’m saying is: I wish to be your husband. ”
I rested my hand on his cheek and took a moment to study him.
He was just as beautiful as the day I’d met him.
But there was something different now. He felt more real, if that made sense.
And my feelings for him were real. That much I knew.
And there was no one else I could imagine standing beside me as I faced my mother’s secrets—the secrets I’d just unlocked.
Julian pressed his hand against mine, his eyes silently telling me he loved me.
I would be a fool to pretend I wasn’t falling in love with him.
“Husband,” I whispered. “I will be your wife. Now let’s get science-ing.”
Julian chuckled before he pressed a kiss to my lips and groaned against them. “All right, Dr. Rossi. Just promise me we will get to the part where we make up soon.”
“I promise.”
And then I turned back to the screen.
It was time to uncover the secrets that were worth dying for.