Reunion in Death (In Death #14)(73)

"This isn't a video."

"But she said it was a vid. And when you came running after her, I should slam right into you on my board. I got fifty dollars. And I get fifty more if I did a good job."

Two uniforms pushed through the crowd, ordering people back. "You need medical attention, Lieutenant?"

"Did you get her?"

They looked at each other, then down at Eve. "Sorry, sir. We lost her. We've got foot and vehicular patrols doing a sweep. We may get her yet."

"No." Eve dropped her head onto her knees as a vicious wave of nausea churned in her belly. "You won't."

"Are you really a cop?" The kid tugged Eve gingerly on the sleeve. "Am I in trouble? Man, my mom's going to kill me."

"Get a statement from this kid, then take him home." The sea rushed in again, ebbed again, but she got shakily to her feet.

"Sir." Red-faced, sweaty, and panting like a dog, Peabody limped up. "I'm sorry. I never even caught sight of her. We've got a net out, but..."

"Yeah, she's blown."

"You better sit down." Peabody grabbed Eve's arm when she swayed. "I'll call the MTs."

"I don't want the frigging MTs."

"You're really banged up."

"I said I don't want them. Back off." She started to pull free, watched Peabody's worried face turn to triplets. "Ah, shit," she managed, and actually felt her own eyes roll back in her head before she passed out.

CHAPTER 15

The next thing she knew she was flat out on the sidewalk and a couple of medical technicians were hulking over her.

"I said no."

One ran a sensor wand over her face. "Didn't break the jaw or cheekbone. Lucky. Looks like she was hit in the face with a fistful of bricks."

"Get away from me."

They both ignored her, which concerned her a great deal. When she tried to sit up, she was held down easily.

"Shoulder's sprained, ribs bruised. No cracks. Damn lucky. Lost a lot of skin, too. Good solid brain rattle here. What's your name?"

"Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and if you touch me, I'll kill you."

"Yep, knows who she is. How's the vision, Lieutenant?"

"I see you well enough, ass**le."

"And she's maintained her young, girlish charm. Follow the light. Just your eyes, don't move your head."

"Dallas." Peabody eased down. "You're really hurt. You've got to let them work on you."

"You called them after I told you not to. I can bust you down to a scooper for this."

"I don't think you'd say that if you could see what you look like."

"Think again."

"The light, Lieutenant." The MT took her jaw to keep her head still. "Follow the light."

She cursed him first, then followed the light. "Now let me up."

"I let you up, you're going to fall down again. You've got a concussion, a jammed shoulder, bruised ribs, gashed hip, assorted contusions and lacerations in addition to a face that looks like you rammed it into the back end of a maxibus. We're transporting you to the hospital."

"No, you're not."

Peabody glanced up, let out a relieved breath. "I wouldn't bet on that," she commented and shifted aside as Roarke knelt down.

"What is this?" Annoyance made way for panic. "Peabody, you are cooked."

"Quiet," Roarke ordered with such casual confidence both MTs goggled at him as if he were a god. "How bad is she?" he demanded.

The run-through of injuries was a great deal more coherent and professional, ending with the recommendation that the victim be transported to the nearest hospital for treatment and evaluation.

"I'm not going."

"You are." He feathered his fingers over her battered face, and a sick anger settled in his gut. "She needs something for the pain."

"Roarke-"

"Do you think I can't see it?" he snapped out, then drew himself back and shifted tactics. "Be a brave little soldier, darling, and let the nice MTs do what they must. If you're very good, I'll buy you some ice cream."

"I'll kick your ass for this."

"I look forward to you being able to try."

She struggled, catching the glint of a pressure syringe. "I don't want that shit. It makes me stupid. I took a spill, that's all. Where's that kid? I'm going to stomp all over his little freckled nose."

Roarke leaned over until his face filled her vision. "You let a kid take you down?" He saw immediately that the question, the amused tone of it had done the job. She stopped struggling to glare at him.

"Listen, ace-damn it, damn it!" She bucked once when she felt the faint nip of the syringe.

"Relax and enjoy it," he suggested. He felt the tension spill out of the hand he held. "That's the way."

"Think you're so smart." Body and mind began to float. "But you're more pretty. So pretty. Give me a kiss. Love that mouth. Like to bite it."

He kissed her limp hand instead. "She won't give you any more trouble."

"Bet I flew ten feet. Whee." She rolled her head to the side as she was lifted onto a gurney. "Hey, Peabody! Outta uniform. You got no shoes."