one but me is ever going to know—”
A sudden sharp pain in his shoulder, followed by another to the left of his spinal column, brought him up short. Blinking, he looked down at the front of his shirt. Twin blotches of red spread quickly across the fabric.
“Oh, hell…”
His vision wavered. He heard Falcon swear; saw him jump sideways and vanish behind a crate.
The prickles on his spine turned to claws that scratched so deeply, they scored his lungs. His chest heated and filled. His mind began to fade.
“Guess I was wrong,” he murmured. “Looks like someone’s going to die, after all.”
The black took over as he pitched face-forward onto the warehouse floor.
Chapter One
“Maya, wait!”
So close, Maya Santino reflected, with a sigh. She’d actually made it to the staff exit this time.
A lanky E.R. nurse swooped in from the side. “Nice try, Doc, but it’s a no go.” Spotting Maya’s earbuds, she cupped a hand to her mouth. “I said, we need you, Dr. S.”
“Yes, I gathered that, Jamie.” She pulled out the earbuds and stuffed the iPod into her oversize bag. “What’s the problem?”
“McVey’s here.”
Although she wanted to resist, Maya let her friend and colleague propel her back along the corridor. “You do know I was coming off a ten-hour shift even before that last two-hour meeting, right?”
“Is it my fault the man won’t see anyone but you?” Jamie Hazell continued to push her forward. “Admissions says his hand’s wrapped in a filthy towel, but he flat out refuses to go to the clinic. Says it’s you or no one. There’s Lysol at the desk if you want it.”
Maya grinned. “My uncle raises chickens in South America. Spend a weekend on his farm, then talk to me about McVey.” A brow went up. “Treatment room four?”
“As far from the madding crowd as possible.”
“There’s a madding crowd?”
Jamie swept a hand in front of her as they rounded the corner. “You decide.”
From Maya’s perspective, it was only mild mayhem. She’d seen much worse during her three-year tenure at Miami’s Eden Bay Hospital. Once, the sea of gurneys had been so deep, she’d been forced to climb over one to reach another.
Of course, they’d been smack in the middle of the hurricane season then. Storm after storm had pelted the southern coast. There’d been home and highway accidents, tramplings and assaults. Scores of buildings had been damaged. Maya’s roof had taken two beatings from uprooted trees. Her car had gotten it from a toppled streetlamp.
Reaching out, she straightened her friend’s name badge. “Cheer up, Nurse Hazell. You’re transferring out of the E.R., remember? Thirty days and counting.”
“Unless Dr. Driscoll changes his mind. It’s happened before. Enjoy your patient.”
Five minutes later, her earbuds replaced by a stethoscope around the collar of her lab coat, Maya pushed through the treatment-room door.
McVey—it was the only name he used—sat on a table. His thin shoulders were hunched, and his back was bowed. The thought struck, as it often did, that he seemed familiar in some way. Then, poof, the thought vanished, and he was just McVey again, a man currently in a great deal of pain.
He supported his injured left hand with a grimy right. He might not live on the street, but Maya suspected the odd jobs he did at a low-income apartment complex didn’t keep him far from it.
“Okay.” Using her two index fingers, she indicated the bloody towel. “What’s the story?”
“Got slammed in a furnace door. Rusty metal, sharp edges. Tore the skin when I jerked free. Uh, is Witch—sorry, Nurse Hazell working tonight?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Maya watched his face as she unwrapped the towel. He kept his eyes averted. Meant he was lying about something, though she figured the rusty-metal part was probably true enough.
“Any point asking if you’ve had a tetanus shot over the past decade?”
He almost smiled, but still didn’t meet her eyes. “Any point trying to fake you out?”
“Not much.” It was a deep gash that would require several stitches. “Why me?”
Another near smile. “Because you’re pretty?”
“Other doctors are prettier.”
“But only you remind me of Sabrina.”
“Excuse me?”
“The movie, remember? Audrey Hepburn was the title character. She grew up and was transformed, like you’ve done since you came here as a resident.”
“Have I known you that long? Huh, blink and the years fly by.”
A grim-faced Jamie came into the room. She sorted through the instrument tray while Maya finished her examination.
McVey’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not gonna spray me again, are you, Nurse?”
“I’d like to do more than spray you,” Jamie retorted, with an expression that made Maya’s lips twitch.
“Careful,” she warned when McVey opened his mouth. “Remember, Nurse Hazell administers the local.”
He pressed his lips together for the duration, even took the tetanus shot without a whimper. But then she suspected he was accustomed to injections and, if the alcohol on his breath was any indication, not in quite as much pain as he could be.
“Okay. Done.” She snapped off her latex gloves. “Grab a doughnut on your way out.”
The door cracked open, and an intern’s head appeared. “Sorry to interrupt, Doctor, but there’s been a pileup on the interstate. Twenty, maybe thirty cars. Several injuries, and we’re the closest E.R.”
“We’re also the most understaffed,” Jamie called after him. “Crap. Why’s it always us?”
“Fate or proximity to the freeway. Take your pick.” Maya started for the door. “Keep that hand as clean as you can, McVey. Come back Monday, before I go off shift, and I’ll look at it.”
Her attention shifted instantly at the sound of sirens wailing. She joined the line of attendants jogging toward the entrance.
It was going to be a very long night.
EVERYTHING AROUND HIM had gone gray and blurry, even with his eyes open. Sort of open, Adam amended, inasmuch as he could think with the light that kept tugging at him. Beautiful light, silvery and soft. It had siren qualities, but he resisted the lure.
He sensed movement, saw the gray haze alter. Ugly streaks of red slashed it apart. Noise, like shrieking daggers, jabbed into his brain. Hands clutched his shoulders and shook him.
“Don’t die,” Falcon pleaded from above. “I need that information back.”
Adam would have laughed if an anvil hadn’t been sitting on his chest.
“I have to go.” The snitch’s voice faded. “Someone’ll help you. I’ll come back when you’re better. I don’t think he saw me in the warehouse. I think you blocked his view….”
Probably true, Adam thought fuzzily. Man, this had definitely not been his night.
The darkness thickened, grew hotter, stickier. He couldn’t swallow, could no longer think. Faces flashed inside the red. His ex-wife’s, his old friend’s, his new enemy’s.
Voices