Page 42 of Broken Oath

“Six days ago. He wore a doctor’s coat, but he wasn’t one of ours.”

Rook’s anger went cold.

“What happened to him?”

“I don’t know. She followed him into the stairwell.”

“And?”

“He never came back.”

That didn’t necessarily mean the woman had killed him.

But nobody inside the room was foolish enough to dismiss the possibility.

“I’ve worked trauma for twelve years,” the nurse continued. “I’ve seen soldiers, agents, armed guards, and families ready to fight an entire hospital. I’ve never seen anyone like her.”

Fathom’s voice was quiet. “Was she here for all three of us?”

The nurse nodded.

“She moved between your rooms. She knew when your vital signs changed before the monitors alerted. She knew every person who came onto the floor. She knew when someone didn’t belong.”

Rook looked toward the chair again.

He could almost see her there.

Silent.

Watching.

Guarding three men who should have died.

Something stirred at the edge of his memory.

Smoke.

The smell of blood.

A dark figure leaning over him.

A black glove against the side of his neck.

Then—

A woman’s voice.

Not loud.

Not frightened.

Angry.

Not him.

Rook tried to grasp the memory.

It slipped away.