"She needs a doctor," Summerset said. His breath was ragged, his arms and wrists raw and trembling from struggling with his bonds. "She needs medical attention."
"I could have been a doctor, the way my uncle wanted, but it wasn't God's plan. My mother knew that. She knew that. My father loved me, he provided for me. Then he was taken from us. Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord. I am his vengeance."
Shuddering with pain, Eve rolled onto her side. If she was going to die, by Christ she would have the last word. "You're nothing but a pathetic and defective tool used by a woman who cared more about herself than her own son. Now both of you are going to spend the rest of your lives in a cage."
"God will show me a sign. He'll direct my path." Liam walked over and stood above her, weapon aimed down and on full power. "As soon as I send you to Hell."
Eve kept her eyes open and kicked upward with what strength she had left. The blow caught him at the knees, sent him staggering back. She pushed herself up, hoping for one last grab at the weapon. But the whine of a stunner came from the doorway, shooting Liam back against the wall.
His body jittered in a death dance she'd seen before. The nervous system went into overdrive, sent the dying body shaking like a puppet, then shut down.
He was sliding to the floor when Roarke rushed across the room.
"Game over," Eve said dully. "Amen."
"Oh God, Eve, look at you. You're a mess."
Little white dots circled in front of her eyes so that she barely saw Roarke face as he dropped beside her. "I almost had him."
"Of course." Even as he gathered her up, rocked her, she fainted. "Of course you did."
When she came to she was on the sofa, with Summerset efficiently treating her arm. "Get the hell away from me."
"This needs tending. You're badly injured, but Roarke seems to believe you'll be more cooperative here than at a health center."
"I have to call this in."
"Another few moments won't matter. The boy won't be less dead."
She closed her eyes, too tired and battered to argue. Her side was screaming, and whatever Summerset was doing to her arm was just one more small torture.
His hands were as gentle as a mother's with an infant, but he knew he hurt her. "You saved my life. You stepped in front of me. Why?"
"It's my job, don't take it personally. It wasn't set on full power anyway. Oh shit." The moan escaped her clenched teeth. "Ten years I've been a cop. First time I took a stunner hit full body. Christ, it really hurts, everywhere, all at once. Where's Roarke?"
"He'll be right here." Instinctively he stroked her hair back from her damp face. "Don't squirm. It'll only cause you more discomfort."
"Nothing could." She opened her eyes again, looked into his. "I fired the weapon that killed Liam Calhoun. I fired it before Roarke came in. Do you understand?"
Summerset studied her for a long moment. Pain swam in her eyes, must have been screaming through her system. But she thought of Roarke. "Yes, Lieutenant. I understand."
"No, you didn't kill him," Roarke corrected. "Summerset, I expect you to give a clear and truthful statement. You're not going through Testing for this, Eve. Not for this. Here, you need to sit up a bit to drink this."
"You shouldn't have had the weapon. It'll complicate—Where did you get the weapon?"
"You gave it to me." He smiled as he eased her up, his arm supporting her neck. "Your clinch piece. I never gave it back."
"I forgot."
"I hardly think the authorities are going to give me any trouble about it. Drink this."
"What is it? I don't want it."
"Don't be such a baby. It's just a soother—mild, I promise. It'll help the pain."
"No, I—" She choked a bit when Roarke simply poured some of the tranq down her throat. "I have to call this in."
Roarke sighed. "Summerset, would you contact Commander Whitney and tell him what's happened here tonight?"