She didn't argue. They made their way back to the stairs, their progress agonizingly slow. Though she made no complaint, her pain was an ache that itched at the back of his mind.
Another muffled thump ran across the darkness. A shudder ran through the bricks around them, and the dust became a wall thick enough to carve. The flashlight's bright beam flared against the soupy swirl, unable to penetrate more than a yard or so.
They struggled up the stairs. Behind them, it began to rain bricks and wood, gently at first, but increasing in volume and strength. The building was coming down.
He swung Sam up into his arms and ran like hell for the front entrance. The collapse was a tidal wave that raced behind him. He could feel the strength of it pushing at his back, urging him to fall. Plaster and wood crashed around them, and the dust was so thick he could barely breathe, let alone see.
He stumbled past a mound of wood and bricks and out the front door. A deep groaning filled the silence — the final scream of a dying building. He kept on running.
The old hospital came down with an almost silent sigh, and a sudden rush of wind battered at him, thrusting him to the ground. He twisted as he fell, so that he cushioned Sam's body with his own. For a few seconds, all he could hear was the thunder of her heart, and all he could feel was the warmth of her body pressed against him. And all he wanted to do was keep on holding her, because it felt so right, so real, somehow.
The two men scrambled out of the control room.
"Jesus man, are you all right?"
The sandy haired worker he'd threatened stopped several feet away. Which was just out of reach. "Yeah. Call an ambulance, will you?"
"I'm okay," she murmured, struggling against his hold on her.
He released her, and she rolled away from him and sat up. Though she made no sound, her teeth caught her bottom lip. Beads of sweat broke out across her brow.
"Sure you are." He took a handkerchief from his pocket and began wiping the dust from her face. Her left cheek was badly scratched, and blood oozed down to her chin. "Tell me what happened."
"I pissed off that budgie again." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "And I'm gonna sell my damn apartment. People keep insisting on bombing the damn thing."
He half-smiled at her indignant tone. "Are we talking about the budgie that tried to shit all over you in Max's office?"
"The very one. Dr. Francis. Ex-lover to one Max Carter, and would-be supplier to Harry Maxwell."
"But no relation to Emma Pierce?" he guessed.
"Unfortunately, no. She's not our serial killer, just a would-be drug mogul who hasn't taken the time to see the bigger picture. I'm going to take great delight in throwing her well-manicured butt in prison, I can tell you."
He grinned. "I almost feel sorry for Dr. Francis."
Her grin briefly echoed his. "Sure you do." Then she hesitated, her smile fading as her gaze searched his. "I'm sorry to hear about your sister."
An ache cut through his heart. An ache he'd been trying so hard to ignore. "How did you find out about it?"
It came out more abruptly than he'd intended, and she raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You weren't answering your phone, so I called Michaels to see what was going on. He told me."
"Why were you calling in the first place?"
"You asked me to report in, remember?" She leaned back on her hands and studied him for a moment. "Why the third degree?"
He thrust a hand through his hair. He hadn't meant to be so brusque, but he didn't want the whole world knowing about his sister's death, either. Not until the Stern clan had time to deal with her loss, time to say good-bye. "Sorry. I guess I'm not ready to talk freely about her murder just yet."
"Especially with me, I suppose."
Her words were a whisper he barely caught, and her expression suggested a loneliness as deep as anything he'd ever experienced. He half reached out to comfort her, and then he dropped his hand. This is what he wanted, he reminded himself fiercely. The more she thought him a bastard, the more likely it was she'd walk away. More than ever, he wanted her to remain safe.
Silence reigned as they waited for the ambulance to arrive. He itched to get back to searching for his sister's killer, but he wasn't enough of a bastard to simply walk away from Sam before she'd received medical attention.
After a few minutes, she ran a hand across her bloody chin, and asked, "How did you find me?"
He shrugged. "Local's took note of Francis' car as it sped away from your building. We traced it to here."
"Really?" There was disbelief in her face, in her voice. "Then how did you know which building I was in?"