Smoked (The Invincibles #5) - Heather Slade

Prologue

Smoke

“Siren!” I called out as I ran into the burnt-out building I’d seen her enter a few seconds before I did. “Siobhan! Where the fuck are you?”

I knew why she’d run past the fire marshal and into the scorched shell of the former antique shop: she was looking for the safe that was in the back storage room of the derelict place. I also knew why she refused to answer me.

“Siren!” I yelled again, staying low to the ground, hoping to get a glimpse of her through the haze of smoke.

As if it were a special effect, the cloud suddenly cleared, and in front of me stood the woman I’d hated and loved equally in the months I’d known her.

“Get out of here, Smoke. This is none of your concern,” she shouted.

“It may not be,” I said, taking a step in her direction. “But you are. Let me help you, Siobhan.”

“I was never your concern, Broderick, except to play with.” Her Irish brogue was thick, like when she was about to cry.

“Please.” I took another step closer and held out my hand. Before I was near enough for her to take it, I heard a crack above us. I dove in her direction, covering her body with mine as the still-smoldering ceiling came crashing down on us both.

I

Two Months Earlier

1

Smoke

I held my breath when the doctor came out of the double doors with a grim look on his face.

“Siobhan Gallagher’s family,” the nurse with him called out. I stood and walked toward them.

“That’s me.”

“Your name?”

“Broderick Torcher.”

The doctor cleared his throat. “The surgery was successful, and Ms. Gallagher is in stable condition.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding, sensing there was a “but” coming. Sure enough, his next sentence confirmed it.

“There was brain trauma associated with her injuries…”

I felt the bile rising in my throat.

“Ms. Gallagher has suffered a series of small strokes. Some movement may have been affected, as well as her memory.”

“What do you mean by ‘affected’?”

“As with any stroke, when the patient first regains consciousness, the symptoms are typically at their worst. Some regain full physical and mental capacity immediately. Others, it takes longer.”

“What, specifically, has been affected?”

“We don’t know fully as she’s only regained consciousness intermittently.”

I took another deep breath, restraining myself from grabbing the man by the throat, putting his back to the wall, and insisting he answer my fucking question. Instead, I spoke slowly. “For the third time, what…did…you…mean…by…affected?”

“Ms. Gallagher was having difficulty controlling movement on the left side of her body. We expect this to improve relatively quickly.”

“You said physical and mental.”

“The patient was experiencing confusion—”

My patience was gone. “What kind of confusion?” I growled at the man.

“As I said, for now, much of her condition is unknown.”

“You’re not answering my questions.” I was trained to recognize when people were hiding something, and this man sure as shit was. If this doc thought he could get anything over on me, he was in for a rude awakening when he experienced my ire in full force.

“It would be premature to give you any definitive answers regarding her symptoms.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, wishing I could turn around, walk out of the hospital, and never look back.

“What is the nature of your relationship with Ms. Gallagher?” he asked.

“Work colleagues.”

The doctor raised his brow and looked at the nurse, who opened the folder she had in her hand and shuffled through the papers inside. She gave him a sheet containing the information I assumed he was looking for.

“You’re listed as having her medical power of attorney.”

“That’s right.” The reason why was none of his business.

“It’s unlikely she’ll remember you.”

“Excuse me?”

“As I said, Ms. Gallagher has only regained consciousness for short amounts of time.”

“And yet you predict she won’t remember me?”

“We have reason to believe her memory has been affected.” He studied me for a moment. “Do you have any other questions?”

A thousand, at least, but his track record at answering any I’d asked so far was zilch. I shook my head.

“You may see her now. If you’d like, the nurse can escort you to her room.”

If I’d like? There’s nothing I’d like less. However, this wasn’t something I could walk away from. Siren wasn’t someone I could walk away from.

* * *

The nurse waved her arm for me to follow.

“Hold up,” I said, motioning to where I left a book and a cup of coffee near where I’d been sitting.

She folded her arms and drummed the fingers of one hand. I’d been sitting here for