I was happy to note he finally appeared winded.
Shattered glass and car parts were scattered about our feet. The cold flurry zipped and gnawed at our battered flesh, but neither of us seemed to notice or care. His hair danced in his face, but he never removed his gaze from me.
My skin felt too tight for my body; my blood sparked with newly awakened awareness. It had since the moment I’d first seen him, but only in this moment of stillness did I become unable to mask the sensation. I couldn’t force my heartbeat to slow. I cursed under my breath. I killed aliens. I did not desire them.
“What is Dallas to you?” Kyrin asked.
What I shared with Dallas was none of his business. I knew that, but found myself answering, “He is my friend.”
Kyrin’s stare became piercing. “Not your lover?”
“No.”
“That is good. I do not like to share.”
I forced myself to sound as cold and callous as any hunter. “Is that what it will take to save Dallas? Sex?”
“You will sleep with me because you desire me, and for no other reason.”
The surety in his voice I could have ignored, but I couldn’t ignore the dark premonition that swept through me. Somehow, I maintained a neutral expression. “You’re that sure of yourself?”
“Oh, yes.” He gave me a knowing perusal that mentally stripped away my clothing. “I am that sure.”
I fought a shiver. “If Dallas dies, I will kill you. You do know that, don’t you?”
“I know that I have not changed my mind,” he said. “Until my sister is free, I will not help you. You have four days to decide. Then I will return.”
Damn him. I closed my hands into fists and stepped toward him, ready to strike.
He only grinned. “Until we meet again, Tai la Mar.” He spun around and began to stride away, his footsteps echoing in my ears.
“Kyrin,” I called.
The sound stopped him.
I don’t know why I’d called his name, didn’t know what I’d wanted to say. I only knew it tasted good on my lips. I said nothing else. When he began walking away for the second time, I stupidly called out again. “Kyrin.”
Once more, he paused.
“I will hunt you down,” I said this time, “and when I find you, you will help Dallas.”
He glanced at me over his shoulder, and said, “I look forward to your attempts. Your attempts,” he said after a pause. “And no other. If I learn that other agents are searching for me, I will disappear completely, and your friend will have no chance of survival.” He left me then, his body swallowed up by the fog, his words echoing behind.
I stood alone in the hospital parking lot. Sure, I could have run after him. But I didn’t. What would I do with him if I caught him? I didn’t have my pyre-gun, so I couldn’t stun him. And he’d already proven we were an even match in a fight. Well, maybe not even.
Our time of reckoning would come, I had no doubt; sultry anticipation was already working through me. Now, however, was not that time.
Exhausted, I stumbled back inside the hospital. I’d never been in a situation like this before, and I was unsure how to proceed. I needed—God, I wasn’t sure what I needed.
“This miracle sucks,” I muttered.
Nurse Idiot stood sentry outside Dallas’s room, surrounded by security guards, as she tearfully stammered her experience with me. She dabbed her eyes with a tissue, short strands of brown hair dangling at her temples. Her face was flushed pink from her tears, the perfect offset to her bright purple scrubs. The guards drank in her every word, every expression, offering soothing murmurs of comfort each time she paused.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said on a wave of irritation.
“That’s her,” she cried. She pointed a finger in my direction. “That’s her,” she said again, cowering behind one of the guards.
All three men eyed me with distaste and edged toward me. I didn’t bother with an explanation; I simply flashed my badge, and they backed off. “Get me the doctor in charge of Agent Gutierrez’s case. Now.”
Eyes wide, Nurse Idiot propelled herself to the nurse’s station and shakily snatched up the phone. Five minutes later, I was about to pull out my hair—and the nurse’s hair—because Dr. Hannah hadn’t arrived.
“Page him again,” I said.
“But I—”
“Who paged me?” a man asked behind me.
I turned. Dr. Hannah was short, only five feet five. He had a thick head of silver hair and equally thick glasses. “I need you to check Dallas Gutierrez and tell me if his condition has changed in any way.”
Dr. Hannah frowned. “I thought this was an emergency.”
“It is.”
“Nurse Walden—”
“Is busy,” I finished for him. “I want you to do it.”
Obviously exasperated, he rubbed a hand down his face. “Surely this can wait. You called me out of prep. I’ve got an artificial limb attachment in”—he checked his wristwatch—“fourteen minutes.”
“Then you’d better hurry.” With a tilt of my chin, I motioned to room 417. “Unless, of course, you want me to call my boss and have him run a crime search on your name and every member of your staff. I can return later and discuss the results with everyone.”
“Uh—I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” He readjusted his collar. “Dallas Gutierrez, did you say?”
“That’s right.”
“Very well, then.” A long sigh seeped from his lips, and his eyes became heavy-lidded with resignation. “Let’s have a look at him.”
After taking Dallas’s pulse and blood pressure, Dr. Hannah flashed a thin beam of light over Dallas’s eyes. He uttered, “Hmm,” then repeated the action. Brow furrowed, he cut away the bandage over Dallas’s chest and inspected the wound.
“I don’t understand,” he said, glancing at me, then back to Dallas.
“What?” I was at his side in an instant.
“He’s actually improved.” Excitement dripped from his voice. “His pulse is stronger; his BP—blood pressure—is higher. His eyes dilate and contract perfectly. And look at this.” With a gloved finger, he pointed to a portion of the burned tissue. “See how the flesh here appears pink?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, pink indicates life. This morning, that tissue was black, dead, and completely unable to rejuvenate. Now it’s alive and trying to grow.”