Memory Zero (Spook Squad 1)
Page 71
But why Byrne’s? Why not Hanrahan’s, an image his body was used to?
Frowning, he dug out his cell phone and quickly dialed. “Michaels, I’m bringing across some wounded. With the gas leak being investigated, you’re the closest medical help I can think of.”
Michaels almost looked relieved. “I’d rather treat the living than check the dead, I can tell you. I’ll be waiting.”
“We’re on our way.” He shoved the cell phone into his pocket and hurried on.
“As I’ve said before, I’m not going to die on you,” Stephan said quietly. “Stop worrying.”
“Like you wouldn’t, if the situation were reversed?” He kept his voice low, his gaze sweeping the people in front of them.
Stephan’s smile was a mere ghost, something Gabriel felt deep in his heart rather than actually saw. “I’m the oldest. It’s my job to worry.”
He snorted softly. “Yeah, right.”
It took what seemed like hours to reach Michaels. Gabriel curbed his impatience, watching Michaels tend to the two more seriously injured women before waving him over to look at Stephan.
“What’s the verdict?” he said, once Michaels had given his brother the once-over and bandaged him up.
“Like the rest of them, he’s lucky. His right arm’s broken, his legs are severely bruised and his ankle’s either badly sprained or broken—can’t tell without X-rays. There’s nothing wrong with him that a few days in the hospital won’t fix, though.”
“No hospital,” Stephan muttered, eyes still closed.
Probably hiding the fact that they were green rather than Byrne’s natural blue. No matter what Michaels said, the stress of the injuries had to be bad if it was preventing Stephan from doing a full shapeshift. And if he couldn’t fully shift, he had no option but to avoid the hospital and the ever-prying doctors.
Michaels frowned. “Sorry, Byrne, you’ve got no choice. That ankle needs looking at.”
“No hospitals,” Stephan repeated. “Stern, make sure they don’t take me there.”
“The man has a morbid fear of hospitals,” Gabriel explained apologetically. “It’s all in his file.” It wasn’t, but who was going to check? The whole com system was down right now … he stopped the thought cold. They wouldn’t attempt to bomb a whole building just to prevent him from getting Sam’s test results … would they?
Maybe, just maybe.
He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. The day was getting worse, not better.
“If you don’t get that ankle fixed he may never walk properly again,” Michaels continued.
“Only if it is broken.” Besides, Stephan was a shapeshifter. His body retained the memory of itself, and it could heal any number of broken bones, no matter how shattered, a whole lot faster than any doctor possibly could. “I have a friend, a physician. Retired, but still willing to keep his hand in. I’ll take him there.”
Michaels glanced over his shoulder as a string of ambulances came around th
e corner. “I guess we have no choice. He’s obviously lucid, so we can’t take him anywhere against his will. He’s all yours.”
“I’ll go get my car. Take care of him until I get back.”
Michaels nodded. Gabriel squeezed his brother’s shoulder, then rose to fetch Karl’s car.
GABRIEL BOOKED A HOTEL ROOM in the middle of St. Kilda, a trendy district that held a dark heart of criminal activity. The manager asked no questions, and he turned a blind eye to Stephan’s condition—the main reason he’d chosen to come here.
Given the dilapidated state of the place, he had no doubt that if someone came looking for them, it would take only a buck or two for the manager to spill his guts. But it didn’t matter, because they wouldn’t be here all that long. Just a day or so, until his brother regained his strength.
He lowered Stephan to the bed, then locked the door and crossed to the window. The hotel fronted the esplanade, and their room looked out over the bay. It also had a damn good view of the hotel’s front entrance. He checked the street, drew the blinds closed and dragged a chair up close to the bed.
“We safe?” Stephan asked, without opening his eyes.
“Safe as we can be.”
Stephan sighed, a soft sound full of relief. His body began to shimmer, to blur, and for an instant resembled Play-Doh being molded by invisible hands.