Midnight Pursuits Read Online Free

room.
    â€œYou got here just in time,” the nurse said quietly. The petite brunette had introduced herself as Sasha Petrova, the same woman who’d called more than half a day ago. She was younger than Juliet had expected, with a gentle demeanor and big blue eyes that swam with compassion.
    â€œHe’s alive?” Speaking in fluent Russian, Juliet managed to voice the question despite the enormous lump constricting her throat.
    Sasha nodded. “But barely,” she warned. “The surgeon wasn’t able to stop the bleeding. Ms. Mason . . . Your brother isn’t going to—”
    When the woman halted abruptly, Juliet glowered at her. “Isn’t going to what?”
    Sasha quickly backpedaled. “I’m not qualified to discuss his condition, I’m afraid. Dr. Vlacic will be in shortly to explain the situation to you.”
    â€œHe’s going to die,” Juliet said flatly. “Just say it.”
    The nurse didn’t budge. “The doctor will speak to you shortly. Why don’t you sit with your brother until then?”
    Juliet nodded tersely. If Sasha didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, fine. It was probably in the woman’s best interest anyway. The phrase
don’t shoot the messenger
hadn’t sprung out of nowhere, after all, and Juliet couldn’t promise she wouldn’t be doing some shooting if she lost Henry.
    As she reached for the door handle, Sasha’s voice stopped her. “You really don’t resemble your brother at all.”
    â€œWe were both adopted.”
    â€œI see.” The nurse stepped away. “I’ll let Dr. Vlacic know you’ve arrived.”
    Juliet offered a nod of gratitude, then opened the door.
    Uncharacteristic tears filled her eyes the moment she walked into her brother’s hospital room. The figure lying prone on the bed looked nothing like the man she’d seen only a year ago. His normally thick brown hair was oily and stringy, plastered to a forehead that was as pale as the rest of his face. His wire-rimmed glasses were gone—it was so strange to see her nerdy little brother without those glasses.
    The ominous beeping of a heart monitor punctuated each step she took. She stood over her brother, sweeping her gaze over the white sheet covering his slender body. On the lower part of his torso, she noticed the unmistakable outlines of heavy bandages beneath the sheet.
    â€œJesus Christ,” she mumbled.
    At the sound of her voice, Henry’s eyelids fluttered. He blinked rapidly, panic entering his brown eyes and causing him to thrash on the bed. The oxygen tube fell out of his nose, the IV line in his arm stretching taut as he struck out.
    â€œHey, lie still. Try not to move.” Her sharp tone contrasted with the gentleness of her hand as she touched Henry’s arm.
    â€œJ-J-Juliet?” The croaky voice cut through the sound of the beeping machine.
    She smiled. “It’s me.”
    â€œYou . . .” He relaxed, blinked again. “You look different.”
    Each word came out wheezy and hoarse. It was obvious the simple act of speaking was a huge strain for him.
    â€œI just came from a costume party,” she said lightly.
    Henry didn’t question the flippant response. She knew he suspected what she did for a living, but she’d always appreciated that he never demanded details. He was definitely aware of her former life as a professional thief, but she’d made sure to keep the rest from him. She knew he wouldn’t approve, nor would he ever understand how she could take a human life without remorse.
    That was the problem with Henry. He was too good, too naive. So damn ignorant to the evil that pervaded the world, the sick men and women who committed acts so atrocious that even death wasn’t a suitable enough punishment for them. Juliet had encountered these people, she’d studied them, followed them, and ultimately