"Search carefully. He has to be somewhere nearby."

In the darkness, several men in black were sweeping the area fast, clearly hunting for someone.

In the shadowed corner of a narrow alley, Jaynie Wyatt was pinned in a man's arms. His hand clamped over her mouth, and a weak, ragged breath brushed past her ear.

"Don't move."

She took this path every night. Nothing like this had ever happened before.

Being held down like that instantly annoyed her. Her fingers twitched, and she pressed a numbness point on his arm.

Damian Widener was already injured, and his illness had flared up again. The moment she did that, his body tilted, and his full weight crashed onto her. His face dropped into the crook of her neck. The faint, clean scent of the girl hit him all at once. His Adam's apple bobbed, and then a violent fit of coughing shook him so hard he grabbed her arm tightly.

A sudden warmth spread across her neck.

Disgust flashed through Jaynie's eyes. She shoved him away hard, then lifted a hand to wipe her neck. Her whole palm came away stained bright red with blood.

After being pushed off, Damian had no strength left to support himself. He fell to the ground in a miserable heap, one hand clutching his chest as he coughed in pain.

Jaynie had planned to just leave him there. But seeing how awful he looked, a trace of impatience flickered in her eyes. She still walked over, crouched in front of him, and took his wrist to feel his pulse. Three minutes later, she said flatly, "Born weak. Won't live past thirty. Want to live?"

Damian finally forced the coughing down, but his mouth was full of the metallic taste of blood. He knew his condition better than anyone. Ever since it was discovered, famous doctors across the country had all reached the same conclusion: he would never make it past thirty. Before he turned eighteen, the attacks came once every six months. After that, once a month. Now it was happening every half month. He knew very clearly that thirty was a wall he couldn't cross.

"Can I even live?" Damian gave a self-mocking laugh and leaned back against the wall, closing those eyes that were so obviously desperate to keep living.

Jaynie looked at him and said, simple and blunt, "If you have money, you can live."

Damian opened his eyes and stared at her, unable to tell if she was messing with him or just tossing him a little comfort because he looked pitiful.

"The sound came from here. Search."

Jaynie was still waiting for Damian's answer.

What she didn't expect was that instead of a reply, her lips were suddenly blocked by his.

Damian pulled her into his arms and switched their positions in one move. To stop her from fighting back, he grabbed both her hands tightly in one hand.

It was a close call.

Two men passed by the alley entrance. When they saw the two of them locked together in what looked like a heated kiss, one of them wanted to come over and check. The other grabbed him.

"Forget it. Let's look somewhere else."

The two men cursed under their breath and left.

Only then did Damian let go of Jaynie. He braced himself against the wall, breathing hard, then slowly slid down to sit on the ground. Looking at Jaynie's stunned face, a faint smile flashed through his cold eyes.

"So... can my illness really be treated?"

Jaynie snapped back to herself. Her mouth was full of the sickening taste of blood, and her gaze turned cool.

"No."

She turned to leave.

In eighteen years of life, no one had ever taken advantage of her like this. Her reactions were slow, and her emotions seemed frozen off from the world, but that didn't mean she was clueless. She knew exactly what that kind of act meant.

"You're mad."

He caught her hand and tugged.

Jaynie lost her balance and fell right onto him. Their faces ended up inches apart.

"Then kiss me back, and I'll ask again. Can this illness of mine really be cured?"

Jaynie had never been this angry before. She was so mad her teeth almost itched. Staring at his pale face, drained from all that coughing, she reached into her pocket, took out a bottle of medicine, twisted it open, and fed him one pill.

"Saving you? You're not worth that."

One minute later, Damian stopped coughing.

The tightness in his body eased, and the pain wasn't nearly as bad. Shock flashed across his face as he looked at Jaynie.

"As long as you can save me, whatever you want, I can give it to you."

His hand closed tightly around Jaynie's.

For twenty years, not a single medicine had ever managed to suppress his condition. And yet one tiny pill from her had made him feel this much better. A wild, almost unreal thought rose inside him—

for the first time, he saw a real chance to live.