Chapter 200: The Seattle Anomaly

The annoying beep of the alarm echoed through the soft purple bedroom. The space was completely messy, with books haphazardly stacked on shelves alongside framed pictures.

"Grr," a silver-haired woman groaned, burying her face into her pillow.

Just as she was about to drift back to sleep, a fantastic aroma drifted into the room. Her stomach rumbled violently, instantly demanding sustenance.

BRRRRRUP.

Getting out of bed with a heavy sigh of annoyance, she began to get dressed, mentally preparing herself for the day. Once fully clothed, she stepped out of her room, only to freeze halfway to the kitchen.

’Peyton cannot cook,’ she thought. ’The few times she tried, she almost set the apartment on fire. The times she manages to make something edible are few and far between.’

She briefly assumed the person cooking must be one of her roommate’s casual lovers, but then she remembered Peyton had not come home last night and had mentioned she would not be back for a few hours.

She considered anyone else, but there were only two keys to the apartment: hers and Peyton’s. Instantly on high alert for a possible intruder, she crept slowly toward the kitchen. Peeking around the corner, she saw a muscular man dressed in black, casually wearing her floral apron.

She took a firm step forward. She was not afraid of being attacked; considering what she had become, she was more afraid of accidentally attacking him.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "How did you get in? What do you want?"

"I am Jason Todd," he replied calmly, putting a final touch on the food. "I picked the lock. I want to talk to you, Olivia Moore¹, but we will do it over breakfast."

Jason untied the apron and carried the plates to the table. Before sitting down, he grabbed the coffee pot and poured two cups—one for Olivia, and one for himself.

"Sit," he instructed.

Olivia—or Liv—stared at him doubtfully, then down at the breakfast. It smelled appetizing, but due to her new dietary needs, normal food tasted like pure garbage to her. The only way she could tolerate human food was by drowning it in hot sauce, but she had finished her last bottle yesterday.

"I am not hungry right now," Liv lied. "I would like—"

"Sit," Jason commanded, shifting to a firmer tone.

He laced his voice with a subtle concentration of pheromones—the same trick he occasionally used with the girls during their private moments.

Liv straightened up like a struck oak tree, instantly compliant, and walked to the other side of the table.

"Eat," he added, before digging into his own breakfast.

He watched as she eyed her plate with a mixture of distaste and nostalgia. Reluctantly, she picked up her cutlery and cut a piece of bacon. As she placed it in her mouth, she braced herself to make a face of utter disgust.

Instead, her eyes widened, and a soft moan escaped her lips.

Like a starving predator, she began to devour her breakfast, along with the extra portions Jason had left nearby. Once he finished his own meal, Jason took a small bottle from his pocket and swallowed one of the pills inside.

"What is that you are taking?" she asked, her mouth still full of food.

"These are specialized supplements that help with my accelerated metabolism," Jason explained. "One of these tricks my body into believing I have just eaten an entire banquet. I take one daily, or whenever I feel hungry."

He watched as Liv swallowed the last of her food. Reaching for her coffee, she took a small sip. Her expression was noticeably more relaxed than when she had first woken up.

She looked up at him, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features. "What?"

"Due to your carelessness, a certain camera recorded you while you were ’getting food’ for your new dietary needs," Jason said casually.

Liv instantly tensed.

"What you just drank and ate contained liquid phenylethylamine," he continued. "It is a compound naturally found in..."

"Brains," she whispered, her eyes widening in shock.

"And to a lesser extent, in chocolate," Jason finished. "The real reason for my visit is to study you. With your consent, I need to know if you are entirely unique, or if there are others like you."

She slowly nodded, understanding his concern. It was a fear she shared deeply.

Before Liv could ask any questions, the doorbell rang. She looked at Jason, who simply turned his head, calmly gathered their empty plates, and carried them to the sink.

Liv walked over and opened the door. "Hello. What is going on?"

"Hello, roomie," Peyton ¹said. "I know you probably will not be interested in this..."

"Okay?" Liv said cautiously.

"But we want to restart our Tuesday get-togethers," Peyton finished, stepping aside to reveal the small crowd gathered behind her.

Liv’s heart sank. Standing in the hallway were her mother, her younger brother, and—damn it—her ex-fiancé, Major Lilywhite¹.

"I suppose it is all of you," Liv muttered. Stepping away from the door, she let them inside.

"Yes!" Peyton said cheerfully. "That is how we will be every Tuesday, just like before, right? Because we all love you very much, and we want to make sure you know it."

Peyton walked inside carrying several bags of groceries. As she stepped into the kitchen, she suddenly stumbled backward, her path blocked by a towering figure.

She looked up, completely frozen by the living Adonis standing before her.

"Oh my God," Peyton whispered.

"I have been called many things, but never ’God,’ baby," Jason replied with a smooth, radiant smile.

Peyton remained paralyzed, staring at the incredible work of art masquerading as a man. Unconsciously, she bit her lip, her eyes tracing how his black, fitted shirt perfectly accentuated his muscular physique.

Behind her, Eva, Evan, and Major all had similar reactions to the imposing stranger in the kitchen.

"Cough," Liv interrupted awkwardly. "Family, this is Jason... an acquaintance—"

"I am Liv’s close friend," Jason corrected, his smile never wavering. "I am sorry. If I had known you were coming, I would have prepared more food for breakfast."

Liv shot him a scathing glare. The look only lasted a few seconds, however, before she noticed the sharp, calculated gleam in his eyes. It was a look that screamed danger.

Eva Moore ignored the stranger and turned her attention entirely to her daughter.

"I am Eva Moore," she began sternly. "And Peyton is right. We are very worried about you, Liv. Especially about your recent behavior, which is completely unlike you."

Liv looked at her mother with complete disinterest.

"I am speaking on behalf of your brother and myself," Eva continued.

"That is not true," Evan muttered as he walked past them toward the refrigerator.

"I am saying what I need to say with all my love. You know that, right?" Eva pressed.

"That depends entirely on what you are going to say," Liv replied defensively.

"You are wasting your life."

"Mhm."

"You traded your residency at the hospital for a job at the county morgue," Eva said, her voice dripping with bitterness and frustration. "I do not want to interfere in my daughter’s life, but you will regret breaking your engagement to Major for the rest of your life."

"I think it is time for me to go," Jason announced smoothly, sensing the escalating tension.

Unwilling to spend another second listening to her mother’s accusations about her life choices, Liv looked at the intruder. In a moment of desperation, she did exactly what she shouldn’t have done: she trusted a complete stranger.

Before Jason could walk past her, she grabbed his arm and pulled him close.

"Get me out of here," she whispered fiercely.

"Family problems are solved within the family, Liv," he whispered back.

"You owe me," she hissed. "You broke into my apartment, used my things, and now you want to experiment on me."

Jason remained silent for a few seconds, unable to conjure a viable excuse to deny her logic.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" Eva demanded, her eyes narrowing as she finally addressed him.

Seeing the fiercely curious, overbearing mother staring him down, Jason suppressed a sigh.

"I am Jason Todd. Your daughter’s friend."

"How did you two meet?" Eva pressed, her tone interrogative.

"She and I had to perform an autopsy on a body that arrived at the morgue some time ago," Jason lied smoothly. "That is how we met. I also taught her a few things."

"So, you are a forensic pathologist," Eva said bitterly, instantly losing interest upon hearing his profession.

"Almost," Jason replied. "I studied to be a forensic pathologist, a doctor, and a lawyer. Currently, I work as an investigator for the FBI."

Everyone’s eyes widened. Eva’s dismissive attitude vanished instantly, replaced by a look of profound respect.

Jason casually reached into his pocket and produced a federal badge—one of the many authentic-looking credentials he kept for exactly these types of situations. He held it up for everyone to see.

Liv shot him an incredulous look. Jason simply winked at her.

"Oh!" Eva said, her interest completely renewed.

Before she could ask any further questions, Liv’s phone chimed. She checked the message and let out a dramatic sigh of relief.

"I am sorry, but I have to get to work," Liv announced quickly. "Thank you for the intervention. It was very... welcoming."

"I can give you a ride," Jason offered. "What time do you get off today?"

"At eight o’clock."

"Perfect. We can continue our chat then. See you all later."

He gave the stunned family a polite wave and escorted Liv out of the apartment.

Once they were safely downstairs, Jason walked over to his heavily modified motorcycle. He opened a concealed compartment under the seat and pulled out a sleek black helmet, tossing it to Liv.

"Nice motorcycle," Liv noted, inspecting the heavy, armored frame. "I have never seen a model like this before."

"I built it myself," Jason replied. "You will not find this beast on the market."

Liv nodded and strapped on the helmet. Following his lead, she climbed onto the back of the motorcycle. Wrapping her arms around his waist, her hands unconsciously lingered against his firm abdominal muscles for a few seconds.

"Miss Moore, I strongly advise you to stop," Jason warned dryly. "And please, try not to scratch me. The last thing I want right now is to become the living dead."

Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a pair of tactical gloves and handed them to her as a precaution.

Liv flushed awkwardly beneath her helmet, put the gloves on, and wrapped her arms around his waist once more.

Jason started the engine, the powerful roar echoing through the street, and drove her toward the forensic department.