by Sarah Fine
“You’d be right.” His stomach growled loudly as he picked it up. With everything that had happened, he hadn’t eaten since last night. “Look, I really appreciate what you did, but . . . uh . . . why did you?”
“It was the least I could do.” She was leaning over the stretcher, tucking plastic-wrapped suction catheters into an overhead cabinet.
He stared at her, willing her to look at him, his hunger turning to a sick, queasy feeling as his words from this morning replayed in his head. He’d never felt like such an asshole. “Cacy, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been harsh—”
“Of course you should have.” She turned her back and opened one of the front cabinets. “I crossed the line. And you were right. About some things, at least.”
Her voice was brisk. Cool. All business. Like her friendliness in the locker room had been an act. He waited, wondering if she had more to say. Would she tell him which part he’d gotten right? Would she tell him what the hell had happened last night? How she was still alive despite having her throat ripped open? Didn’t she owe him some explanation for what he’d seen? Especially the eerily familiar red-eyed thing that had been peering through his window?
After a few minutes of silence, it was apparent she wasn’t going to tell him anything.
“So . . . how are you doing?” he asked, offering her another opening.
Cacy sat back and pulled a tray of atropine into her lap, counting the vials. With her gaze focused on the tray, she said, “I’m fine.” Her eyes flicked up to his. She nodded toward the cannoli. “You’re not hungry?”
She looked back down, not waiting for his response.
He didn’t want her to think he was turning down her gesture of goodwill, if that was actually what it was, so he took a huge bite of the cannoli in his hand, snapping his teeth through the flaky shell. The sweetness was overwhelming. He finished the whole thing in a few seconds. His stomach still felt hollow.
He watched Cacy, waiting, crumpling the paper towel in his hand, squeezing it tight. She didn’t look up or speak to him again. She had completely shut him out. And why shouldn’t she? She’d lost her dad, gotten hurt, and reached out to him, albeit in the most achingly dangerous way. And he’d pushed her away. He hadn’t been nice about it, either. He’d asked for this. He should be grateful for it. She could have been vengeful and petty. She could have gotten him fired. Easily. She could have doomed him—it was clear that most of the paramedics were loyal to her. She could have destroyed his reputation, his job prospects, his chance at making it here. But instead, she’d saved his ass.
As he stepped off the back of the ambulance and tossed the grease-spotted paper towel in the garbage, Eli tried to be thankful. She’d protected him, covered for him. So why did it make his stomach hurt?
He turned back to the ambulance, where Cacy had pulled out a tablet and was tapping away at its screen. And then he realized what was bothering him about her. As blank as her expression was, as briskly professional as she was acting, her eyes were red. Like she’d spent most of the day crying.
He didn’t have more than a moment to dwell on why he cared, though, because the alarm screeched and the videowall lit up. A fire in an apartment complex. Eli ran for the rig, hoping the next few hours would be an adequate distraction. The last thing he needed to think about was how badly he wanted to comfort the Chief’s sister.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Cacy and Eli rolled a stretcher through the yawning doors of the emergency department. “Full-thickness burns to both hands, forearms, and the left thigh. Partial-thickness burns to the face and thorax. Compound fractures of the right femur and left radius and ulna, secondary to a jump from three stories up,” Cacy yelled. A young resident poked his head out from an examination room, cringed, and came jogging toward them, waving a nurse over as well.
As Cacy passed off the arson victim to the hospital staff, Eli went back to the rig. She found him waiting for her in the back, calmly wiping down his uniform with an enzymatic cloth. It was six in the morning. Cacy had never had such a busy night. And it wasn’t over yet.
She took a shuddering breath. “Can you take the rig back to the garage? I have to stay here.”
Eli was frowning as he tossed the cloth into a biohazard bag. “Are you all right?”
Not really. “I’m fine. I want to go visit the Psychopomps employees who were with my father yesterday night.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
Yes, she did, even though it was the last thing she should want, and the last thing he should be offering. After the way she’d acted yesterday, she was surprised he was willing to spend an extra second with her. And after the way he’d sneaked into her thoughts today, despite all her grief and her family responsibilities, she shouldn’t even be contemplating spending an extra second with him.
But . . . she’d been dreading this visit to her father’s staff all night. It had produced an undercurrent of anxiety as she went on call after call, a drumbeat of sorrow, a weight of responsibility. She wanted to figure out what had happened to her father, and talking to the people who had been with him when he was attacked seemed like the best place to start.
Looking at them would bring it all back for her, though. As much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t want to be alone when that happened.
Eli hopped down from the rear deck and turned back, waiting for her. He tilted his head. “Did I misread you? Do you want to go by yourself?”
She shook her head, completely confused by her intense relief at the thought of Eli at her side—and at his willingness to be there. “No, I appreciate it.”
They walked side by side through the crowded lobby of the hospital. Cacy spotted a familiar long-limbed figure lounging next to a spindly old woman shaking with chills and pale as paste. The platinum-haired Ker, looking wickedly handsome and completely relaxed, was looking at the woman fondly, his arm across her seat back.
Probably because she represented a nice portion of his income for the night.
The Ker winked at Cacy as she walked past. She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Hey, Luke.”
Luke loved to kill with disease, which was easy enough since it was so rampant and virulent these days. He specialized in the slow, painful spinning out of a life, and worse, he liked to watch as it happened. He reminded Cacy of a spider.
Luke licked his lips. “Maybe I’ll see you later?” He looked down at the woman, whose eyelids were fluttering faintly as she slumped in her seat. “In an hour or so?”
Eli was close enough for Cacy to feel him tense, and she wanted to kick Luke for being so careless. “I’m busy,” she said through gritted teeth. Find someone else to ferry your victim, asshole. “We’ll have to catch up some other time. Take care of your aunt.” She gave the old woman a pointed look.
Luke’s eyes flicked up to Eli, and his gaze glittered with curiosity, and maybe a little hunger. “Always do.” He patted the un–responsive woman’s shoulder. “Catch you later, Ferry.”
Cacy nudged Eli toward the elevators, eager to get him away from Luke. But Eli gazed steadily at the Ker for a second before he followed Cacy’s lead. As they headed down the main corridor, he asked, “Friend of yours?”
“More of a business associate, really.”
“His aunt looked in pretty bad shape.”
Cacy sighed. “He’ll take care of her.”
She hit the button for the top floor as soon as they boarded an elevator. Psychopomps Inc. owned a special unit, a suite of rooms within the hospital devoted to the care of regular human employees and retired Ferrys who had given up their raven marks. There was even one room devoted to obstetrical care. Cacy had been born there.
All three of the employees who had survived the attack were in the unit. The fourth, her father’s driver, Chad, had died at the scene. Cacy rubbed her arms, fighting the chill despite her long-sleeved uniform.
She glanced at Eli from the corner of her eye. His tanned face had paled a shade or two.
“You okay?”
He blinked, like his thoughts had drifted somewhere else in the last minute or so. “Of course. You?”
She shrugged. “I know all of them pretty well. It hurts to think of them being hurt like this.” Debra, her father’s personal assistant, had spent hours in surgery and no longer had a spleen and part of her colon. Alex and Peter, her father’s bodyguards, were in even worse shape. Alex was still in a coma. He’d lost so much blood that they feared he would be permanently brain-damaged. Peter was going to receive a spinal transplant, which was the only chance he had to walk again. “We’re taking good care of them. But they’ve sacrificed a lot for our family.”
Eli leaned back against the elevator wall, watching her carefully. “Have the police talked to them?”
“They won’t until Rylan gives the okay.”
Eli’s brows shot up, and he chuckled softly. “Does Psychopomps own the police force, too?”
Even though the Ferrys’ influence was an open secret among the people of Boston, most were too in awe of her family to say that type of thing to her face. Cacy fixed her gaze on the emergency call button on the elevator’s control panel. “Just a twenty percent share.”
Eli let out a low whistle. “And I’m sure you guys would never dream of abusing that power.”
Cacy lifted her chin. “We take care of the people in this city. In more ways than one.” She internally kicked herself for saying that last part, but she wanted Eli to understand her—and her family.
Eli opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.
They stepped into the hushed corridor of the Psychopomps unit, complete with its own medical staff and five large rooms, all with state-of-the-art equipment. Cacy approached the nurse at the central desk, very aware of Eli’s warm, solid body next to hers. Just knowing he was there gave her the reassurance she needed. “Hey, Helen, I’m here to see my father’s staff.”
The matronly gray-haired nurse nodded. “Alex is still comatose, Ms. Ferry. Peter just got his morphine and is pretty sleepy. Debra’s probably most able to tolerate a visit right now.” She pointed toward a room at the end of the hall. “She’s in there.”
“We won’t be long,” Cacy assured her.
Eli hung back near the door as Cacy walked in to find Debra staring at the videowall, watching some old movie. “Hey, Deb,” Cacy said softly.
Debra turned her head and smiled weakly when she saw Cacy. “Hey,” she said in a voice as brittle as an eggshell, “you just missed Aislin.”
Cacy stiffened. “Are you up for another visit?”
Debra nodded. “You want to know what happened.”
Cacy’s cheeks grew hot, and she stared at the knitted blanket folded over Debra’s feet.
“It’s all right, Cacy. I know this is hard for all of you. It’s hard for me, too.” Deb laid her head back on the pillow, her wavy brown hair fanning out around her. “I loved your father,” she said quietly.
Cacy sat in the chair next to Debra’s bed, looking back at Eli for a moment. His gaze was riveted on her, like she was the only thing in the room. It filled her belly with a warm feeling for which she was both grateful and uneasy. She looked away quickly. “I want to know how it could have happened, Deb. That’s all. Why were you there?”
Debra shrugged, her thin shoulders rising in sharp angles. She winced and relaxed slowly. “Your father had a meeting in Cambridge, and he wanted to take only one car. We were supposed to take the bypass, but Chad made a wrong turn and ended up taking the long way, out by the Common.”
“Was Father upset?”
Debra shook her head. “He was on the phone the whole time. I don’t think he even noticed.”
Cacy steeled herself for the answer to the next question. She almost didn’t want to know. “What happened next? Can you talk about it?”
Debra’s face twisted a little. She was trying not to cry. “I didn’t even know what was happening, Cacy. It went down so fast. Chad pulled over and opened the window to the backseat. He said we had a flat, and he opened the door and got out. A second later, a guy was shooting into the car and we were all scrambling. I don’t think Alex and Peter even had a chance to draw their weapons.”
“I’m sorry, Debra. I’m so sorry you got hurt.” Cacy offered her hand, and Debra took it and gave a feeble squeeze.
Debra shut her eyes tightly, but tears were leaking from the corners. Cacy stood up and kissed Debra’s forehead. “We’ll take care of you. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
“I know. Aislin said the same. I’m grateful to your family, Cacy.”
Cacy patted Debra’s hand and turned away, a leaden ball of guilt settling into the pit of her stomach. “I’ll check in later this week to see how you’re doing, all right?”
“Sure.”
The visit had the anticipated effect; she missed her father more than ever. She made her way out into the hallway and collapsed against the wall outside, wrapping her arms around her body. Eli sank down next to her, nudging her shoulder with his, letting her know he was there. She didn’t move, didn’t speak, just soaked up his warmth and let it drive away everything else. Even though it only made the guilt weigh more heavily on her, she stared into Eli’s eyes, focusing on their color, that deep green, and how they glinted with what she was sure was concern.
Only for a few seconds, she promised herself. Then I’ll pull myself together and leave him alone.
“Cacy?”
She jerked her head up to see Rylan striding over from the central desk. She scrambled to her feet, and Eli did the same. Rylan leaned around Cacy and extended his hand, staring with unholy intensity at Eli. “I’m Rylan Ferry,” he said. “You are?”
“Eli Margolis. Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Cacy’s paramedic partner.”
Rylan’s eyes widened briefly before he said, “Margolis, huh? And I take it from your accent that you’re not from around here?”
“No, sir. Just transferred in from Wilkinsburg.”
Rylan released Eli’s hand and returned his attention to Cacy. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Cacy tightened her ponytail. “I’m not the only one. Aislin was here, too. I met with Debra. She told me what happened.”
When she finished relating the story, Rylan said, “Cacy, I’ve talked to the police. None of the limo’s tires were flat.”
A hard chill went through her. “Then why would Chad stop in that neighborhood?”
“Maybe because someone paid him to do it.” He glanced over at Eli. “Would you excuse us for a minute, Eli? Cace and I need to discuss some family business.”
Cacy cringed at Rylan’s dismissive tone. It was one of the reasons Cacy had taken the paramedic job instead of working at Psychopomps. She hadn’t wanted to lose her ability to talk to people who didn’t have as much money as her family did.
Eli didn’t look offended. He nodded at Rylan before looking at her. “You want me to wait?”
She shouldn’t ask it of him. “Would you?”
He walked over to the lounge area and settled himself onto the couch. She turned to Rylan. “Now, what do you need to tell me?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Eli stared at the muted videowall in the lounge, seeing nothing but black spots. He’d been fighting to stay upright and calm ever since they’d arrived. He hated hospitals. Everything about them. They smelled of hopelessness and pain. He knew it was ironic, considering how many of his working hours he spent elbow deep in other people’s blood. But out in the field, it was action, decision, movement. Sitting in the hospital felt like being at a grave. Somber, silent, mourning for what had happened. He’d spent three weeks in the hospital with Galena after the attack, and when they’d left, he swore
he’d never set foot in another.
And yet, here he was.
All because of Cacy. The vulnerable slope of her shoulders, the sheen of unshed tears in her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to come, either, but she had clearly felt like she needed to. And he wasn’t okay with making her do this alone.
From the corner of his eye, Eli watched Cacy with her brother, who towered over her. He appeared to be giving her orders, which made Eli even more tense. Rylan looked to be in his midthirties, and was obviously used to being in charge, used to being waited on. He had the kind of commanding attitude Eli would have expected from someone with that kind of money and power. But Cacy didn’t act that way at all. She acted normal. Like she wasn’t too good for anyone, like she was up for anything.
At least, that was how she’d seemed in the hours he’d known her before her father died. She’d been quiet tonight as they went on call after call. Totally professional, totally focused. You’d never guess what she’d been through in the previous twenty-four hours, and it was like that weird encounter between them at his apartment had never happened.
He should have been happy about that.
“I’m ready when you are,” she said as she walked up to him. “Sorry about that.”
He stood up. “No problem. Are you finished here?”
Her eyes darted up to his, and she wrapped her arms around her middle. “Yeah.”
He tried not to look too relieved. “Cool. You hungry?” He almost cringed as the words crossed his lips. Did he really want to get more entangled in her world? Did he really want to spend more time with her, seeing as every moment spent in her presence made him want a little more from her?
For the briefest moment, her mouth curved into a tiny smile, but then she bit her lip. “I should be getting home.”
Eli folded his arms over his chest, over the stupid ache there, thinking that he and Cacy were a fine pair, staring at each other with their arms wrapped protectively around their bodies, as closed off as two people could be. “Me too, I guess.”
