sheets. His brain felt like it had been hit by a sledgeh

od. Instead of fear, a flash of mal

oved Gardner aside, sending the older

to Crista's neck. The pulse was there, but it was thready.

Caleb Arnold, the trauma surgeon she had mentioned earlier. Caleb took one look at the blood-soaked bed and his face hard

a fist, but Caleb was already at the bedside, his hands mo

ng the woman hard across the face. "Mur

rt. The room erupted into chaos.

eb yelled. "G

her. Conrad instinctively moved to

ted a finger at his chest. "If she dies," she hissed, "I wi

he repeated, his voice bar

tling, Crista's eyes fluttered open. Her hazy gaze fo

gen mask from her face. Her voice was weak,

e gasped out, her voice a fragile thre

, and then her eyes rolled back. Sh

gth drained from his legs. He staggered back

t a run, leaving a trail of

ed her wheelchair toward him, grabbing the edge of his ja

e look in his eyes was feral, so full of rage tha

ning, following the trail of bl

behind the heavy metal doors. The red "In Surge

ounded his fists against the cold m

d into her bag and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper she had found i

and fluttered to the f

ck and white graininess showed a ti

defenses crumbled. His knees gave out. He sank

houlders shaking violently. A sound li

looking coldly at the man kneeling on the floor. Then he turned and walked into