“Gethel is bleeding,” he said as he fell into step next to her. “It’s not bad, but you should see her. And don’t tell me to bring her here, because it’s not happening.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m busy. Eidolon volunteered to go in my place. Let me just give him a buzz —”

Revenant grabbed her wrist as she reached into her lab coat for her phone. “No one but you.”

She sighed. “Revenant, we’ve been over this. We’re done.”

“This isn’t about you and me. It’s about the fact that I don’t trust anyone else.”

She gave him a skeptical glance, but his hard, uncompromising expression told her nothing. “But you trust me?”

“I don’t trust anyone. But I trust you more than anyone here.”

“Why?” She lowered her voice so a passing vampire nurse didn’t get a load of gossip fodder. “Because we had sex?”

“No. Because you helped me when you didn’t have to.”

“You were in pain,” she said. “I’m a doctor. I don’t like to see people suffer. Besides, I couldn’t exactly kick you out of my apartment. You’re kind of… big.”

He was big everywhere. The thought made her flush inappropriately hot.

One lip curled in amusement, flashing a bit of fang. “But you didn’t have to be as nice as you were, either.”

Okay, she’d give him that. “Revenant,” she sighed. “I really can’t do what you’re asking. I was just on my way to the library to do some research —”

“What kind of research? I can help.”

She slowed, seriously considering his offer. With his thousands of years of accumulated knowledge, not to mention the fact that he was uber-powerful, maybe he could help. She was at the point of desperation, and while she couldn’t tell him the complete truth, she supposed she could share her problem with a little rearranging of the facts.

“I’m looking for an enchantment that will disguise me from angels. Make me look like another species or something.”

His lip curled again, but this time, there was no hint of amusement. “Does this have something to do with the attack?”

“Yes. Obviously, I’m being hunted for some reason. Could have something to do with a patient I treated or maybe I’m being confused for someone else. Either way, it’s clear I’m not safe, and I can’t stay at UG anymore. I can’t put anyone else at risk.”

He came to an abrupt halt. “Put me at risk.”

She wheeled around to face him. “Excuse me?”

“You can stay with me. Think about it,” he said as he stroked his hand down the hilt of a blade at his hip. “No one in their right minds would come after you with me around.”

True, but how long would it be before he was the one she had to run from? Her pager went off in an urgent tone. “Hold on.” She glanced at the message, and her heart stopped.

Your gallbladder blanchier patient from yesterday is code 12. Hurry.

“I gotta go!” She ran toward the Harrowgate leading to the hospital, and wouldn’t you know it, Rev was right on her heels. She didn’t bother taking the time to tell him to go away. He wouldn’t listen, and her mind was racing anyway.

The blanchier’s operation had been routine and unremarkable, so what the hell? She hit the Harrowgate at a run, with Rev sliding in after her. There was only one flashing light inside, and that was the symbol for Underworld General. She touched it, and instantly the gate opened into the hospital’s bustling ER.

She jogged to the surgical wing and the bank of rooms set aside for post-op patients, and the insane activity outside the second door on the right told her that was the blanchier’s room.

Several staff members were frantically trying to revive the pale, elflike demon. Slash, another of several Seminus brothers Eidolon had hired recently, was gripping the blanchier’s ankle, his dermoire glowing madly as he channeled healing power into him. Unfortunately, the blanchier was a species that didn’t respond well to a Seminus demon’s healing power.

“Fuck,” he barked. “Something is shutting down all his systems.”

Bane, his brother, snatched the IV bag off the pole. “This is saline. It’s fucking saline.”

Oh, shit. Blanchiers were highly allergic to saline. Who would have ordered a saline drip? Or had someone accidentally spiked a bag of saline instead of glucose? Blas grabbed the demon’s chart and scanned it for physician orders.

Eidolon had ordered labs. Bane had given an injection of hydrogen peroxide. Blaspheme had ordered… saline.

All around her, the alarmed beeps from hospital equipment and the raised voices of the people trying to save the demon faded into a distant buzz. Blaspheme’s pulse fluttered in spastic bursts as guilt stabbed her in the chest like a dull blade. She’d marked the wrong damned box.

“No,” she whispered.

Revenant appeared at her side and peered at the chart in her hand. “What is it?”

Nausea racked her, stealing her voice, and when she could finally talk, her voice was barely a whisper. “It’s my fault. I meant to mark D5W. I remember now. I was distracted and… fuck. I didn’t even sign my name on the chart.” Shoving the clipboard onto its hook at the foot of the bed, she leaped into action. “Someone give him a glucose injection. Hurry!”

“We already did that. He’s dying,” Slash said.