CHAPTER 24 DECLAN #2
A service corridor waited beyond the narrow window, gray tile, yellow emergency strips, two Stone men with weapons raised, and Siobhan Quinn in a white coat thrown over black clothes. Her hair had come loose from its knot. She looked furious enough to scare the dead back into order.
"Open," I barked.
The door stayed shut.
ESCORT RELEASE REQUIRES RED WITNESS SEPARATION.
MATERNAL SOURCE MUST TRANSFER TO MEDICAL AUTHORITY.
I shoved my burned palm against the reader beside the door. The red ring flared so hot my vision sparked at the edges.
"Red witness Declan Reeve separates from maternal source under protective return," I said. "Medical authority Siobhan Quinn receives Marian Brooks for care. Daughter route Nora Brooks retains protective duty. Mercer authority denied."
The reader pulsed.
IDENTIFY MEDICAL AUTHORITY.
Siobhan stepped to the window and lifted both hands, palms flat against the glass. "Dr. Siobhan Quinn, Stone medical command. Receiving patient Marian Brooks under emergency care. Mercy designation rejected for abuse. Bell authority revoked."
The screen flickered blue.
MEDICAL AUTHORITY ACCEPTED.
Door locks turned.
The panel opened with a scream of warped metal. Cold corridor air rushed in, carrying the smell of rain, gasoline, blood, and hospital disinfectant. The Stone men moved first, grabbing the lift door and holding it wide. Siobhan came straight to Marian, already checking her pulse, mask, eyes.
"Easy," she said, and for the first time all night, the word sounded like a command meant for the body instead of the room. "I've got you, Mrs. Brooks. You're out."
"We aren't out," Marian whispered.
Siobhan froze for half a breath, then bent lower. "You'll be out when I say so."
"Girl," Marian breathed.
"Nora is moving," I said, already reaching for the cradle lock. "She's doing what your family does. Terrible choices in bad corridors."
Marian's fingers caught my wrist. Her grip had no strength. It still stopped me.
"Nora is daughter," she said, each word thin and torn. "She is no door."
The corridor lights buzzed overhead. Siobhan looked at me once, sharp enough to cut.
I bent closer. "Say it again."
Marian dragged air through the mask. "Tell her. Daughter. She is no door."
The words went straight through the comm.
Nora's breath hitched.
Vale's voice sharpened. "Sentiment is a poor defense against architecture."
"You've been hiding behind architecture all night," Nora said. "Come closer and try saying that without a machine."
A grin pulled at my mouth. It had blood in it. "That's my girl."
"Move, Declan," Gabriel ordered. "Siobhan has Marian. Go."
Siobhan had already locked her hands onto the cradle's side rail. Two Stone men took the foot end. Marian's eyes rolled toward me again, fogged and stubborn.
"Bring her," she whispered.
"Planning on it."
"Alive."
I leaned over the rail. "You Brooks women ask for luxuries."
Her fingers moved once against mine. Then Siobhan snapped, "Out of my way," and shoved me with her shoulder like I weighed less than the old blanket. The cradle rolled into the corridor, surrounded by guns and medical hands.
For one second, Isabella's voice broke through the comm, raw in a way I had heard only once before, when she thought the baby was leaving her body.
"Mom?"
Marian's monitor chirped fast. Her head turned a fraction toward the sound.
"Bella," she breathed.
The whole corridor went still around that word. Even Maeve made a sound like something had struck her where polish couldn't cover it.
Siobhan recovered first. "Keep talking to her, Isabella. Don't ask questions. Let her hear you."
I left them there because Nora had asked me to save Marian first, and Marian was in Siobhan's hands. The promise was paid. The next one dragged me toward the stairwell with my bad ankle grinding bone-deep fire through every step.
"Route to Nora," I said.
Aidan answered. "Take the east service stair. Two flights up, left at laundry, through the old pharmacy cage. Bell's down. Rina's conscious and cursing you for taking too long."
The service stair smelled like rust and wet concrete. I hit the first landing hard, caught the rail, and kept moving. My ankle wanted to quit. My wrist had reopened. Blood slid into my sleeve, hot and slick. None of it mattered while Nora's voice stayed in my ear, low and brave and too far away.
"Vale has the case connected to an ambulance battery," she said. "He's using the old transport line. He says if I touch the command, the wake turns into purge."
Cormac swore softly. "Mercer built a dead-man threat. Interrupting the key may kill the holds."
"Then don't interrupt," Maeve said. "Redirect."
"The redirect needs daughter route," Nora said.
"It needs language," Cormac replied. "You have been very good at insulting dead legal systems so far."
"I am bleeding on an ambulance bay floor. Compliment me later."
Vale spoke again, closer to her now. "Put Thomas Brooks's ring on the case, Nora. Your father made a sentimental lock. He always did prefer family to efficiency."
The stairwell blurred red at the edges. My foot hit the second landing wrong. A burst of pain shot up my leg, and my hand slipped on the rail. I caught myself with the burned palm and nearly blacked out.
"Declan?" Nora said.
"Keep your eyes on him."
"Answer me."
"I tripped. Very dramatic. Don't recommend it."
"Declan."
Her saying my name like that put more strength in my leg than pain could take. I pushed off the wall and kept climbing.
"I'm coming," I said. "You don't put that ring anywhere until I see your face."