Oh. My. God.

So cute!

Blix glanced over at Gracie who was watching her with unveiled envy. She brushed her fingers across the boy’s back and combed them up into his silky chocolate hair. It was so thick and rich and deliciously yummy… Her fingers were going to get fat just touching it.

And she was a terrible person.

“It’s okay,” she looked to Dr. Blake, raising her eyebrow. “PTSD?” she whispered as if she were still talking to the boy.

Blake shook her head—which technically was a breach of confidentiality—but group sessions at the research center never bothered with such formalities. How were they supposed to group-therapize without a little information?

Probably just social anxiety. She nodded her thanks and turned her attention back to the boy. “I would kill for your hair,” she said out loud. “It’s freaking awesome. Are you in the NASB Program?”

He stole an uncertain glance at her.

Angling the burned part of her face away from him, she grinned like she wanted to gobble him up for breakfast—which wasn’t far from the truth.

“I’m a sophomore,” she said. “But I graduated from high school two years early.” She twisted her fingers through his hair and tugged, letting them comb down the back of his head and trail gently down his neck. So brazen! What had gotten into her? This was practically assault. Premeditated assault with the intent to devour.

But he didn’t seem to mind. He was breathing easier now. Who knew her touch could be so therapeutic?

“I just graduated. To come here. One year early.” His voice was shy and a little bit apologetic—like he was worried she wouldn’t believe him. But everyone in NASB was a bit young. There was even an eleven-year-old, but she was way messed up—even by super brain standards.

“It’s okay. Just ask.” She nodded and gave him her most inviting half smile.

“Have we ever met?” He shrugged out a silent apology. “Do I know you?”

Her laugh almost came out as a snort. “Because why else would a stranger assault your hair, right?” She grabbed one more fistful and released it with an exaggerated sigh. “Sorry. I’m not normally like this.” She reached for the controls and maneuvered her chair around so that she was only invading his personal space and not sitting in his lap.

Which made her laugh again. She had practically mauled him, and he’d hardly reacted at all. “I’m Blix.” She reached out her hand, and he took it gently in his. Too gently. It wasn’t like she was made of egg shells. She squeezed his hand, harder maybe than absolutely necessary.

“Alf. I just—”

“Okay, everyone,” Dr. Blake called out, completely shattering the moment. “We should get started…”

Sighing, Blix maneuvered to an empty spot at the table and focused on trying to focus on trying to focus, but she’d heard the “negative self talk” spiel about a billion times. And Mr. Luscious Lashes kept glancing at her—and not in a rubbernecking-at-the-accident kinda way either.

“What’s your major?” she whispered after finally snagging his attention.

“EECS,” he whispered and cast a guilty look back at Dr. Blake.

“It’s okay. This is group—”

The emergency siren cut her off with an ear-piercing blare.

“Emergency siren.” She had to shout to be heard over the racket. “It goes off occasionally to keep group sessions from getting too boring.”

He looked uncertainly around the room. “Are we supposed to—”

Then everyone’s phones started buzzing.

“Okay, everyone!” Blake looked up from her phone. “There’s been a breach at the Lawrence Livermore Lab.”

“But isn’t that like… forty miles from here?” Blix pulled the phone from her chair’s inner pocket.

“What the heck?” Little Carlos from the Perlmutter group jumped up, knocking his chair to the floor. He and Jacob ran to the window at the back of the room where a huge dark cloud had blotted out the sun.

Blix spun her chair around and maneuvered towards the window. A roiling wall of darkness was moving their way.

“Maybe we should head downstairs?” Blake’s voice sounded right behind her. “There’s a basement facility with clean rooms?”

Blix nodded, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the cloud. It was moving fast. Unnaturally fast. And directly against the wind.

A flash of blinding light burned into her brain. Her muscles spasmed as a jolt passed through the building. Explosions shook the room as glass rained down all around her.

Screams and crashes and running footsteps.

Blix pulled back on her joystick to follow everyone out of the room, but the chair wouldn’t respond to the controls.

It was dead.