First Do No Evil: Blood Secrets, Book 1 Read Online Free Page B

”
    Skidding to a halt, the boy said, “Please! Let me go!”
    Her nails dug into his skin. “I can’t. I need your help. They need your help.”
    She glanced around the boxy room that moments before had exuded the welcoming charm found in small-town cafés across the country. Blue chintz curtains still flounced in the windows, tables were still set with mason jars full of artificial sunflowers, and the requisite photo of the president still hung behind the counter, though knocked off center.
    Only now the walls, once the color of summer corn, were airbrushed in blood. Cookie sprawled on the floor, clinging to the shiny aluminum base of a bar stool like a child on a carnival ride. Nevaeh curled in a fetal position, eyes opening and closing as she battled for consciousness. Center stage, the gunman lay prone. And Danny, oh God, Danny sprawled on his back, arms flailed to the sides—a bloody snow angel.
    The kid with the hockey mask stopped fighting. He froze, trembled in her grip, gaped at her with a face that revealed not only fear, but a loss of innocence. Until today, evil must’ve been little more than a hypothetical construct to this boy. She wished she could return his innocence to him. She wished she could reclaim her own. The muscles in her throat spasmed around that desperate wish. It was too late for them both.
    “What’s your name?” she asked the kid.
    “Gabriel.” He stared at the trickle of blood oozing from the spot where she’d clawed his wrist.
    Releasing his arm, she cupped his chin in her hand, nudged his head up. Despite the bright daylight in the café, only a thin ribbon of hazel ringed his black pupils. “Gabriel, you can do this. You’re stronger than you think.”
    He retched, and a stream of golden bile spewed onto his shoes. His chest heaved a few quiet sobs. After wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he lifted his eyes to hers. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”
    Brave boy . “You got a cell? Call nine-one-one.”
    He nodded.
    “After, go ask Cookie where he keeps his rubber gloves. Don’t touch anything—anyone—until you put them on. The blood could be contaminated. If you find extra gloves, bring them back here. Bring towels, rags—lots of them—and anything else you think we can use.”
    Sometimes the clinic ran short of funds, and she moonlighted in the ER for extra cash. She was grateful for that now. And she had another thing working in her favor—she’d faced down evil before. Maybe she’d fallen apart the first time, but she was only a kid then. This time, she wouldn’t fall apart. This time she’d fight back.
    Gabriel took off, and she surveyed the room again. Hard to know where to start. With so many injured, triage was the first order of business, and it was up to her to make the tough choices. Those most in need were Danny and the gunman. She headed straight for Danny.
    Catching up with her, wearing a pair of latex dishwashing gloves, Gabriel said, “Only two pair.” Waving a flag of yellow rubber in the air, he handed her a wad of rags.
    She stripped the second pair of gloves from Gabriel’s hands and tossed them to her brother. “Garth, I need you to watch Nevaeh. Monitor her level of consciousness, pulse, and breathing. Keep her head perfectly still—if her c-spine is injured, she could wind up paralyzed.”
    Garth slipped on the gloves. “Got it.”
    Kneeling astride Danny, she ripped open his shirt to expose his chest, shouting instructions to Garth and Gabriel as she worked. She bent her cheek near Danny’s lips, and a flutter of air grazed her skin. Good . Next she felt for a pulse in his carotid area. Nothing .
    In one swift motion, she jerked Danny’s sweats and briefs down below his ankles and drove her fingers through the thick black hairs in his groin, feeling for femoral pulses. At first she didn’t detect any, but then a thready pulse rippled under her fingertips, and for an instant her heart mimicked the unsteady beat.
    Quickly, she