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The background noise changes. “I’m alone. What is it?”
“She gave her guy orders not to tell anyone if she had a seizure.”
Zeus curses under his breath.
“Anything she tells me after she wakes up has to stay between us. I can’t tell you a goddamn thing after this phone call unless she talks to you first. Do you understand?”
“Is it happening now?”
“Yes. And according to Shane, it’s the fifth one since the shooting.”
A long, deep breath, audible over the phone. “Do you have a kit with you?”
“It’s always in my bag. It’s there now.”
“Get it.”
I’m already on one knee, digging through my bag. The kit’s in a black, shatterproof box the size of a brick and has traveled with me all over the world. Everyone in my not-family travels with one on their person at all times. I pop it open on the chair by the bed. There are two pill bottles, a vial with liquid, and five syringes waiting, safe in customized cutouts in thick foam lining. A side pocket contains individually wrapped alcohol wipes.
“I’m assuming pills aren’t going to be an option.”
“I doubt you can get her to swallow at this point. Have you given field injections before?”
“Yes.”
“You know what to do?”
Nowmyhands are shaking, and I’m not fucking scared. I’ve done this before in far worse situations.
“Walk me through it anyway.”
“Take out the vial and a syringe. Undo the cap. You’ll need—”
I follow along. Take off the cap. Sterilize the top of the vial. Flip. Push air in. Check for bubbles. Zeus gives me the amount to draw into the syringe.
“Two? Are you sure?”
“It’s five milligrams per milliliter. If it doesn’t stop in ten minutes, you follow with another two.”
“And if it doesn’t stopthen?”
“It’ll stop.”
“How the fuck can you know that?”
“I’d go for the arm, if I were you, and I’d do it now.”
I approach the bed, drop the phone next to Daisy, and find her arm. One more alcohol swipe. My heart has never gone harder, or faster. I’ve done this a million times. Battlefield medicine is nothing. But the way she doesn’t react, doesn’t so much asblink, has my mouth dry and my jaw aching.
She doesn’t flinch at the injection. I swipe a hand over her eyes.
They stay closed.
Phone in hand, I drop into the chair next to the bed. “It’s done.”
It’s notdone. None of this isdone.Daisy’s been keeping a massive secret, and I’ve walked straight into it. My body drops the bottom out of the adrenaline rush, replacing it with all kinds of inconvenient emotions.
“Okay. Wait there. Do you have the app?”
