Page 45 of Gluttony
“Parker?”
“Work. Not answering.”
“Shit. Fucking shit fuck.” Wyatt cursed some more.
“What can I do?” Bailey stepped forward. “I’ve had triage field training with the CIA.”
“So have we, the triage training, I mean.” Evan looked at her, his dark brows joining in the middle. “I know you.”
“Not the time, brother,” Wyatt ground out.
But Evan wasn’t to be deterred. He pointed at Bailey. “I’ve seen you before.”
“I work at Nightingale.”
“That’s not it.” Evan fumbled in his back pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He thumbed through pictures.
“What the fuck are you doing?” growled Wyatt.
“Trust me,” Evan mumbled. “There.”
He showed Wyatt a picture on his cell. Both men looked hard at it, and then at Bailey.
“What?” The walls began to close in around her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“But will it work?” Wyatt asked Evan. “How long ago was the dream? What else do you remember?”
“Um.” Evan’s eyes glazed as he appeared to remember. “She was sitting with him. Alone. I don’t remember.”
“For fuck’sake, Evan. I’m not leaving her with him on anI don’t remember.”
“She’s his mate!” Evan pointed at Bailey. “Stranger things have happened.”
There was that word again.Mate. She had the sense it meant much more than Max’s Aussie comradely word for companion.
Tony thrashed about, sweating, in a feverish daze. A permanent frown flawed his handsome face. “No. Can’t see me like this.” He kept repeating the words, holding his breath, legs thrashing. The tendons in his neck and every sinew of ropy muscle bulged in sharp relief.
And then it all stopped. The sparking lights faded to a blue ghost beneath his skin.
Wyatt pushed Evan toward Bailey. “Take her out to a safe spot. I’ll cover him in case it happens again. We don’t have much time.”
“No.” Bailey dodged Evan’s reach and went for Tony’s hand. She picked it up in her own and squeezed. He was searing hot, but she refused to let go. “Tony. It’s Bailey.”
He moaned and shook his head, but his grip tightened. She wouldn’t leave.
“I’m here,” came a deep grumbling voice from behind her.
It was Parker, the eldest. Tall enough he had to crane his neck to fit through the door, and broad shouldered enough he had to angle sideways. The man was a mountain made of flesh. Straight nose, square jaw, long hair tied at his nape. If they lived a few centuries ago, he would have fit in well with the Vikings. He wiped his hands with anti-bac and calmly came to stand over Tony.
“Temperature?”
Wyatt and Evan shrugged.
A muscle in Parker’s jaw twitched, and then he picked up an electric thermometer from an instrument tray on a side table. He held it to Tony’s forehead until it beeped. “He’s off the charts. This isn’t good.”
“Should we run an IV?” Evan asked.
“Grace didn’t do that until after he released.”
