time.
Tell me we have blood for him on hand?»
One of the nurses spoke up from the left. «We do, although his blood didn't type.»
Jane glanced across the patient. «It didn't?»
«The sample reading came back unidentifiable. But we have eight liters of O.»
Jane frowned. «Okay, let's do this.»
Using a laser scalpel, she made an incision down the patient's chest, then sawed through the
sternum and used a rib spreader to pull open the heart's iron bars, exposing-
Jane lost her breath. «Holy…»
«Shit,» someone finished.
«Suction.» When there was a pause, she looked up at her assisting nurse. «Suction, Jacques. I
don't care what it looks like, I can fix it-provided I get a clear shot at the damn thing.»
There was a hissing sound as the blood was removed, and then she got a good gander at a
physical anomaly she'd never seen before: a six-chambered heart in a human chest. That «echo»
she'd seen on the ultrasounds was, in fact, an extra pair of chambers.
«Pictures!» she called out. «But make it quick, please.»
As photographs were taken, she thought, Boy, the Cardiology Department is going to go nuts
over this. She'd never seen anything like it before-although the hole torn in the right ventricle
was totally familiar. She'd known a lot of them.
«Suture,» she said.
Jacques slapped a pair of grips into her palm, the stainless-steel instrument carrying a curved
needle with a black thread clipped onto the end. With her left hand, Jane reached in behind the
heart, plugged the back end of the hole with her finger, and stitched the front impact site closed.
Next move was to lift the heart out of its pericardial sac and do the same underneath.
Total elapsed time was under six minutes. Then she released the spreader, put the rib cage back
where it was supposed to be and used stainless-steel wire to close the two halves of the sternum
back together. Just as she was about to staple him from his diaphragm to his collarbone, the
anesthesiologist spoke up and machines started to beep.
«BP is sixty over forty and falling.»
Jane called out the heart-failure protocol and leaned down to the patient. «Don't even think about
it,» she snapped. «You die on me and I'm going to be really ticked off.»
From out of nowhere, and against all medical rationale, the man's eyes blinked open and focused
on her.
Jane jerked back. Good God… his irises held the colorless splendor of diamonds, shining so
bright they reminded her of the winter moon on a cloudless night. And for the first time in her
life, she was stunned into immobility. With their locked stares, it was as if they were linked
body-to-body, twisted and intertwined, indivisible-
«He's V-fibbing again,» the anesthesiologist barked.
Jane snapped back to attention.
«You stay with me,» she ordered the patient. «You hear me? You stay with me.»
She could have sworn the guy nodded at her before his lids shut. And she got back to work
saving his life.
«You so need to lighten up about that potato-launcher incident,» Butch said.
Phury rolled his eyes and eased back in the banquette. «You broke my window.»
«Of course we did. V and I were aiming for it.»
«Twice.»
«Thus proving that he and I are outstanding marksmen.»
«Next time can you please pick someone else's…» Phury frowned and lowered the martini from
his lips. For no apparent reason, his instincts were suddenly alive, all lit up and ringing like a slot
machine. He glanced around the VIP section, looking for some flavor of trouble. «Hey, cop, do
you-«
«Something's not right,» Butch said as he rubbed the center of his chest, then took his thick gold
cross out from under his shirt. «What the hell is doing?»
«I don't know.» Phury ran his stare through the crowd in the VIP section again. Man, it was as if
a foul odor had sneaked into the room, coloring the air with something that made your nose want
a new job description. And yet there was nothing wrong.
Phury took out his phone and dialed his twin. When Zsadist got on the line, the first thing the
brother asked was whether Phury was okay.
«I'm fine, Z, but you're feeling it, too, huh?»
Across the table, Butch put his cell up to his ear. «Baby? You all right? You okay? Yeah, I don't
know… Wrath wants to talk to me? Yeah, sure, put him on… Hey, big man. Yeah. Phury and
me. Yeah. No. Rhage is with you? Good. Yeah, I'm calling Vishous next.»
After the cop hung up, he punched a couple of keys and the phone went back to his ear. The
cop's brows came down. «V? Call me. As soon as you get this.»
He ended the call just as Phury got