Edge of Midnight (McClouds & Friends #4)(140)

Miles was scooping up T-Rex’s gun, and saying something to her. She couldn’t understand him. She’d forgotten what words meant. Miles dragged out his cell phone. Calling for help. That was good. His face was streaked with blood, but he’d be OK. So would the girl. They’d all do.

The only one who wouldn’t do was Sean. He wouldn’t do at all.

She staggered to where Sean lay, half in and half out the door, and fell to her knees, searching for a pulse. His wrist was sticky with drying blood. She found one, a faint fluttering under her finger.

There was nothing she could do for him. He needed medical help, a team of neurosurgeons. She still saw Osterman’s horrified eyes as Sean spoke through the man’s lips. Goodbye, princess. I love you.

God, how had he done that? How the hell had he done that?

That touched her off. She’d found her feelings again. A tidal wave of them. She sagged over him, lifted his hand to her face, and wept.



Cindy rolled up onto her knees, dazed. Amazed to be alive. Stinky black smoke poured from the building. Wind sighed in the trees. Birds twittered. Liv was curled into a shaking ball over Sean’s sprawled form.

Miles swayed on his knees, trying to peel the jacket over his poor squished hand. The arm of his shirt dripped crimson. She stumbled towards him, tearing off her blouse. “Ohmigod you’re bleeding,” she babbled. “Did he shoot you? Oh, shit! I gotta call someone!”

“Davy’s on it,” Miles forced out the words. “He’s getting an ambulance. It’s a compound fracture. No big deal.”

“Oh, shut up. No big deal, my ass.” She wadded up the blouse and pressed it against the dripping splotch. Miles howled. “Christ!”

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Just trying to help.”

“This is so f*cking typical.” His voice was thin and breathless. “You always end up buck naked in all your freaky adventures. Put on my jacket, for Christ’s sake. It’s bloody, but it’ll cover your bare ass.”

Cindy rolled her eyes. “I cannot believe that you can still give me shit about my underwear after what just happened to us.”

“Underwear?” He hissed as she applied pressure. “That’s a seethru doily and some string. But at least one burning mystery is solved.”

“Yeah?” She scowled at him. “And what burning mystery is that?”

“You were telling the truth about your heart-shaped * hair.”

She tried to laugh. “Ah. Well. If you’re all intense about my * hair, you can’t be too bad off. Lie down before you faint. Macho dweeb.”

Davy and Con barrelled down the hill. She and Miles got a quick once-over, and the McClouds went for Sean like a shot, ignoring the two of them. She eased Miles onto his back, trying not to look at his poor mashed hand. It made her want to hurl. “Thanks for coming after me.”

His eyelids fluttered open. “Hmmph.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s nothing personal. You’d do the same for any whale, eagle or panda you met on the street. But still. You know what?”

His eyes narrowed. “What?”

She leaned down and kissed him. Blood, gore and all.

When she leaned back, he had a wondering look in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, Cin.” His voice vibrated oddly. “You don’t owe me a goddamn thing. So don’t think you have to—”

She shut him up with another kiss. A deeper, more demanding one. “Shut up, you big dork,” she whispered. “You’re bumming me out.”

They stared at each other like they’d never seen each other before. Until the med techs came, and hustled them all away.





Chapter 28



Three months later… S ean’s fingers scrabbled for the spur of black granite. His numb hands were ragged and torn from days of climbing. Pain thudded in his head. Partly altitude, partly the lingering hematomas in his skull. There was a strange, constant hissing in his ears.

He’d ditched his pain meds. Anticonvulsants, too. He wondered, distantly, what it would be like to have a seizure while clinging to a cliff face.

His chest jerked, mirthlessly. At least it would be quick.

It was just past dawn, but the clouds didn’t let much light down. Shreds of mist floated beneath his dangling feet. He clung like a spider to the bottom of a small overhang, hyperextended, muscles burning. Wind roared in his ears. Pellets of hail pinged at his face.

It was the closest thing to peace of mind that he’d found lately.

He heaved and struggled, supporting his weight on one set of trembling fingertips, then the other. Clawing upwards, hand over hand.

He felt no triumph when he flung his leg over the ledge. He flopped onto his back, stared into the sky, panting. Just blank stasis, and that constant hiss. No more desperate effort to expend. He needed another cliff. Quick, before he started thinking. Or worse, feeling.

He’d been up here for a week, with a bare minimum of survival gear. He hadn’t bothered to bring much food, figuring he could hunt if he got hungry. He had, the first couple days, but the longer he stayed out there in the wilderness, the less interested he was in food.

He’d left behind the cell phone, doctors’ advice, frantic fussing from family. Lectures, pep talks, stern talkings-to. Offhand comments about what Liv was doing, what Liv said, how Liv felt.