Closing his eyes, he withdrew into himself, the beep-beep-beep of the machine staying somewhere on the surface. Memories of his previous experiments flooded in, unwelcome. Pain was going into shock. The blood that they had pumped into her was pouring right back out.

  He had a minute, at most.

  He had tried it countless times since Chad told him about how Marco was really saved the night the Beasts stormed the building. Countless cuts, fractures, and scratches—all for naught. No matter how hard he tried, how long he sat hunched over some unconscious fighter, like a gargoyle, it just didn’t work. He couldn’t tap into another person’s energy field. He hadn’t even been able to wake them up, let alone heal something.

  There had been too much doubt. It permeated his every cell, wrapped itself around every reason in his head, and told him to give up.

  No time for doubts now. This was the only way.

  The memories rushed past him, while he descended deeper and deeper, to the quiet place where only the here and now mattered. And the beeping. The beeping was all there was.

  Doc breathed out, wiping his mind clean. Pain’s skin felt cold against his, but he didn’t let himself dwell on the fact. Instead, he focused on the faint whisper of a heartbeat under his hands, the fading presence that pulsed in sync with the sound. Her body must have healed as much as it could on its own, or she wouldn’t be breathing by now. Beep. Beep. Beep. Fainter with every beat. He reached out to it, spreading the net of his own power, searching for something to grasp. Anything.

  Silence. Then the scream of the flat-lining machine pierced his ears, yanking him back into reality.

  “Dammit!” His palm hit the gurney.

  Pain’s scarred, blood-smeared back filled his vision, and a sound built in his throat, barely human. “No,” he growled, pressing his hands into her skin again.

  He shook his head, took a deep breath, and tunneled into his mind once more.

  Chapter 26

  Dave nearly jumped out of his skin when the staircase door smashed into the wall, and Marco burst into the hall, wild-eyed and panting.

  “Where is she?” He stared at Dave even as he strode to Tiffany.

  “You can’t go in,” she said.

  “Like hell I can’t.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, raising a brow. Marco backed off and cleared his throat. “She still alive?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, that’s not good enough!” Tiffany didn’t balk at his anger, so he turned on Dave next. “And you? What the fuck were you doing there? She told you to stay in the van!” His voice boomed through the hall, drawing attention to their group.

  “And I stayed in the van.” Dave tried hard to keep his voice calm, not to anger Marco even more, not to give away the blame he was drowning in. “But she also told me to keep an eye on the driver, who bolted because his feet weren’t tied properly.”

  Dave pushed himself up to his feet when Jane, Ryan, and Chad caught up to Marco. Jane hurried straight to Tiffany, her voice low, her eyes gleaming with tears as she spoke to the nurse.

  Marco grabbed Dave’s jacket, glowering at his face. “One: he wouldn’t have bolted if you really kept an eye on him. Two: I don’t give a shit. When she tells you to stay in the van, you stay in the van.”

  Dave glared at him as he tore Marco’s hand off his jacket. “So what was I supposed to do?” he shouted, his self-control gone. “The driver was running about, with the Commandos right there.”

  “And to hell with him,” Marco snarled in his face. “They don’t care about him. It’s you they want, you idiot.”

  “Keep it down,” Tiffany cut in. Her voice snapped Dave out of it long enough to see Skull join them in the hall, ice covering his long coat.

  Dave took a deep breath, curling his fingers into fists. He tried not to dwell on how they were sticky with Pain’s blood.

  “I couldn’t just let him go,” he said in a calmer tone. “I didn’t know what he would do, so I ran after him. Who knew they’d come out at that moment?”

  “She knew!” Marco threw up an arm, pointing at the waiting room doors. “She knew, and that’s why she told you. To stay. In the fucking. Van. And I told you the same before I left.”

  Dave sighed, closing his eyes for a second, the night’s trials catching up with him. “You think I don’t know it’s on me? You think you need to explain that to me?”

  Marco rocked back on his heels, putting a few more inches between their faces. “Oh well, that makes it okay then. It’s okay if she dies, as long as you realize it’s your fucking fault.”

  “That’s enough,” Dave heard Skull’s deep voice as if from underwater, his own emotions overwhelming his senses. A steady beat had started deep inside him, a second pulse making his guts vibrate. He focused on pushing the feeling down.

  “Get out of my face,” Marco hissed. “Get out of the damn building, this town, because if she—” he broke off, swallowing hard.

  “I said, that’s enough!” Skull stepped closer to them.

  Dave couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t blink, could barely breathe as he stared at Marco, eye-to-eye. His blood boiled in his veins, and something was rising inside him, a wave of murderous energy that fired up his every nerve.

  But Marco just couldn’t shut up at this point.

  “Like it’s not enough you got one girl killed, you gotta put Pain in a grave, too.”

  That did it.

  Dave’s fist smashed into Marco’s face before he could realize what he was doing, and a heartbeat later, something hit his head with the force of a freight train.

  The air whooshed as he flew into a wall, his vision going black. It only lasted a few seconds, but even as his whole head throbbed with pain, he wondered if the human Dave would’ve survived this one punch.

  He opened his eyes, scrambling up to his knees, while Marco stalked after him, broken nose and all. Before he could get close, Skull’s large hands wrapped around his wrists and twisted his arms back.

  “I would love nothing more right now than to knock someone out,” Skull growled through his teeth. “Repeatedly.”

  Marco fought him for a few seconds, before giving up with a furious growl.

  Seeing that Marco wasn’t about to lunge at Dave again, Skull let him go. Dave stayed by the wall, restoring his breathing.

  Marco pointed his index finger at him, wiping blood from his face. “Touch me again, and I’ll put you in a fucking coma.” He turned on his heel and stalked down the hallway, disappearing through the training hall doors, followed by Ryan.

  Dave slouched, anger draining from his body. Something trickled down his face, and he brought his hand up to touch the side of his head, realizing he’d smashed it against the wall. The small cut was already closing up, but the blood remained.

  He wiped it on his pants, not caring about all the blood on him at this point, and got up. The throbbing in his chest had eased somewhat. He dragged his feet to where Chad stood against the wall, his eyes glassy, as if he hadn’t even noticed what had just happened right next to him. His gear was covered in blood, even more than Dave’s, and his hands trembled as they hung at his sides.

  “Hey,” Dave said, unsure how to snap him out of it. After a second, he just pulled Chad into an awkward, one-armed hug. Chad didn’t return it. “Doc’s still working on her, so that means she’s not gone yet. She’s gonna make it, Chad. If anyone can, it’s her.”

  Chad nodded, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. His unfocused gaze switched to the waiting room doors.

  “Come sit down,” Dave said, pulling him to the free armchair next to Jane. Chad obeyed, following him so slowly, it seemed he’d forgotten how to walk, let alone speak.

  Skull watched them from across the hall, arms crossed. By the doors, Tiffany gave a quiet sigh, fidgeting with her watch.

  Jane looked up as Chad sat next to her, with Dave perching on the armrest. The pounding in his head seemed to decrease.

  “How long has it been? Since you got here, I mean,” Jane asked in a shaky voice.

  “Seven minutes,” Tiffany cut in. “Since we came out here.”

  “So what you said before, about him still working on her,” Jane said. “If her heart stopped, it would be…” she trailed off, lifting one shoulder uncertainly. “You know. Then she really is still alive.”

  Dave couldn’t do this. Couldn’t look at her grief-stricken face, couldn’t listen to her voice breaking. But he made himself stay where he was, reaching down to squeeze Jane’s hand as it lay on the armrest, bloodied like his own.

  “It’s gonna be all right,” he mouthed, looking her in the eyes.

  She winced or maybe smiled, he wasn’t sure, and held his gaze.

  “Marco’s wrong, you know,” she murmured. “I don’t blame you. Even knowing about it from his words, I don’t.”

  “I do,” Dave choked out through a tight throat.

  Jane gave a slow shake of her head. “She knew what she was doing. It was her choice.” Her voice was barely audible, and Dave knew how much these words cost her right now. Still, she found the strength to say them.

  He nodded. “Thanks.”

  Between them, Chad still stared at the wall. And Dave couldn’t help but wonder if he thought the same as Jane—or as Marco.

  * * *

  The second time, his descent was anything but methodical.

  Doc burrowed down, tearing through the layers of his consciousness, leaving it in shreds as he searched for the bottom of his power. He scooped it all up and pulled it into his hands.

  The air sizzled when the energy gushed from his palms, but he squeezed his eyes shut, forbidding himself to open them before he heard a heartbeat again.

  Come on. His own heart stuttered from the rush of energy, and he pushed it even harder. All of it—he’d give all of it if he had to. Just to know it was possible. And to save the foolish girl before him. For Jane, for Peter, for all the people who cared about her, the people who had become his home. It wouldn’t be the same without her, their big, dysfunctional family.

  He kept the flow steady as he focused on his mind’s eye once again. And there it was.

  Pumped full of borrowed life force, Pain’s energy field blossomed before his inner eye. No, not blossomed—flickered to life, if only for a minute. A pale-red shape, it had three glowing wounds, two big and one small. And his energy was pouring right out of them and into nothingness.

  Biting back a curse, he redirected his power and focused on the two big wounds. It didn’t seem to work at first, but the angry red around the holes grew paler, and the rest of it brightened soon enough. He didn’t know how much time had passed. Seconds. Hours.

  Still no heartbeat.

  Doc didn’t give himself a second to think before he drew all of his energy to his core—and blasted it out of his hands.

  Pain’s body shuddered under his palms. Still nothing.

  So he did it again. And again. And again, until he could barely stand, leaning on the gurney, his arms propping him upright.

  He breathed out, head spinning.

  Beep.

  His eyes snapped open, darting to the monitor. Beep. Beep. Beep.

  He squeezed them shut again, withdrawing back into that strange new place within himself, scared that he had lost it. But it only took him a heartbeat to restore the connection—red and golden, the strange vision welcomed him like an old friend.

  Doc let out a shaky breath and peeled his eyes open. His hands shifted, and something rolled out from underneath one of them. On instinct, he lunged to catch it, only to plop down onto the cold floor, his knees buckling under his weight.

  His fingers closed on a small, heavy object, and he stared at it in wonder. A bullet.

  I did it. He slipped the bullet into his coat pocket.

  Once again, the beeping pulled him out of his head. Slow, it was still too slow.

  “Tiffany!” His dry throat produced little to no sound. He cleared it and drew all of his remaining strength, pouring it into a single word, “Tiffany!”

  The door flew open, revealing the nurse’s pale face. Doc propped himself up against the wall. “Blood,” he breathed. “You got two minutes.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Closing the doors behind her, she dashed to the nurses’ room, only to run out a second later, empty-handed. “That was all we had,” she said, eyes pointing at the empty blood bags next to Pain’s gurney.

  She crossed the room and peered at him. Doc thought she said something, but the room tilted.

  A second later, it all went black.

  Chapter 27

  The waiting room doors opened, and Dave sat up straight when he saw Tiffany.

  “We need B-positive! Marco, get back here!” she yelled, before turning to Skull. “Brad, Aidan, Miguel—find them.”

  “They’re all out working,” Skull said, shaking his head.

  Marco hurried past them with a scowl and disappeared through the waiting room doors, bumping into Tiffany.

  She ignored him and looked around, scowling. Her lips moved, as if going through a mental list, until her eyes fell on Dave.

  She blinked. “You’re O-negative, right?”

  “Shit, yes!” He jumped from his chair.

  The others followed them, Ryan catching up to Jane, Skull saying something in his rumbling voice.

  “Just these two,” Tiffany said, shutting the infirmary doors in Jane’s face. “The bed on her other side,” she told Dave, pointing at Pain.

  Marco stood over her, unmoving. Dave avoided locking eyes with him as he walked across the room and sat on the bed next to Pain’s gurney.

  Tiffany went to Pain next and flipped her over, all pale skin and dark blood, while Marco reclined on his bed. Her hands moved with professional confidence as she drove a needle into the crook of Marco’s elbow, the heart rate monitor providing a grim soundtrack. Dave barely registered what happened next, and how his own flesh was pierced with a needle, because his eyes were glued to Pain.

  Blood was everywhere.

  She lay on her back, her face turned toward him. Half of it was covered in drying blood, more seeping from the shallow wound on her temple. Her gear lay heavy upon her, soaked through.

  Dave twisted his head to the side, searching for Doc. A small sound tore from his throat when he found Doc unconscious on the floor.

  Dave looked up at Tiffany but caught Marco’s stare instead. Shut up about it, Marco’s eyes said. Tiffany’s focus was only on Pain. Dave opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, realizing that the nurse knew what she was doing. She had probably checked on Doc already.

  Silence hung heavy between them. Dave listened to Pain’s heart rate monitor, his own heart thumping three times faster in his chest. If she didn’t make it…

  He forced himself to focus on Tiffany’s hands as they worked on a flesh wound just above Pain’s hip. Although it didn’t look life-threatening, it was still bleeding. But it only took Tiffany a couple of minutes to stitch it up, and she moved on to the head wound.

  “Is she going to make it?” Dave dared to ask.

  “She’d better,” a male voice said to his left.

  He turned, finding Doc sitting up against the wall, eyes open. Dave’s breath caught in his throat when he saw Doc’s hair. “What happened here?”

  Doc’s weary gaze rose to him, if only for a second, before he switched his attention to Tiffany and Pain again. “You asked me to save her—I saved her.”

  “How?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “But… your hair,” Dave said. He’d been so relieved that Pain was alive, he hadn’t even stopped to think how it happened.

  Doc’s eyebrows twitched, his hand rising to feel at his head. “What, did it fall out?” Dave shook his head, eyes wide. “Thank God. We’ve got enough bald fuckers here already.”

  Doc got up with a grunt. He shuffled to Tiffany’s side, grasping everything he could reach for support, then paused and stared at Dave. “What’s he doing here?”

  “We didn’t have time,” she said. “He’s O-negative.”

  “Oh. Right.” He frowned at something, then shrugged and turned back to Tiffany.

  She looked up at him, eyes troubled. “You shouldn’t be up. Get some rest, I got this.”

  “I have no doubt about that,” Doc said. “How long have I been in here alone?”

  “Eight minutes and forty seconds,” Tiffany answered without missing a beat.

  “Wow,” Doc mouthed. “Felt like hours. Well, you guys can start praying she’s not brain-dead,” he said with disturbing casualness, and walked away. He paused by the mirror, whistling. “Jesus, Tiff, did you see this?” His fingers ran through the silver hair on his temple. “There’s something you don’t see every day.”

  His voice receded into the background as Dave processed what he’d just heard. Brain-dead. He hadn’t even thought about it, that it might just be her body that Doc had saved. And the way he had said it…

  Dave blinked, yanking himself out of his head. His eyes locked for a moment with Marco’s dead stare, and he could read the same worry in them. Or maybe, Marco had been thinking about it all along, having dealt with this before, unlike Dave.

  Tiffany grumbled something under her breath, clearly not happy about Doc’s lighthearted comment. He seemed like himself again, as if he hadn’t just thrown them all out of the infirmary and performed a miracle on a dying person.

  “Patch up her head. She’s still losing blood,” Doc said. He stood over Pain’s gurney, munching on a chocolate bar with disturbing appetite.

  “Exactly what I’m doing,” Tiffany muttered.

  Dave was starting to feel lightheaded, and he couldn’t help but wonder how quickly his body would deal with something like this; whether he would pass out and miss whatever happened next.

  But then he heard a familiar voice filter all the way from the waiting room, and wished he would pass out—and stay out for days.

  Peter had found out, at last.

  * * *