pediment. "Someone call 911!" she commanded, her voice cutting through the panic with the sh

gers immediately finding the carot

ed forward, his face a mask of fur

, holding him back as he struggled.

se with the light from a waiter's phone. "He needs a thromboly

d. They just s

im. "She's trying to finish the job," she whi

ift, precise report, a string of medical jargon they understood perfectly. As

stable, I'm coming for you. I'll have your medical license revoked. I'll blacklist y

ng. No anger, no sadness. It was l

er voice quiet but carry

me," he

pped the screen, and held it up. Displayed there, clear as day, was the official filing from the United States

: Dr. An

lair Medical S

his face for the second time that night, leaving a mo

Anya said to no o

wreckage of the party, her pulse s