“Celia. You’re all right?” He looked so relieved to see me that I wondered just what was going on and what he’d thought might have happened to me.
I nodded.
“I told Warden Davis what you’d said about the outer rings. He decided we should check it out in person. So Davis, Zorn, and I took a couple of pulse sticks and an ATV and rode out to check the outer ring. It’s down. So’s the second ring. And when we came back, one of the gate guards asked about a visitor who’d come in yesterday to meet with the staff mage. Apparently Isaac seemed pretty agitated when he arrived but was calm and relaxed when he left. Not a big deal, by any means, but the guard overheard Isaac saying there were problems with the wards. The gate guy says he reported it, but when he tried to show us, we found that there’s no record in the computer. So now the place is on full lockdown and red alert until they figure out the full extent of the problem and get it fixed.”
“Isaac is missing, Dom,” I said, and filled him in on my call from Gilda. “Are they sure he left?” I realized I was shaking. Damn Finn. Damn him anyway.
“The guard says he left under his own steam, and there’s video to prove it.” Then Dom thought about it some more and sighed. “They don’t spray people leaving the facility. After all, it’s a prison for mages, not spawn. And besides, no spawn should be able to get in through the wards.”
But the wards were down, I thought. I didn’t say anything. There was no point—and besides, Dom was already thinking it, too.
“Look, nobody knows anything for sure, Celia. I’m sorry, I know it doesn’t look good, and I know he’s your friend.”
“Dom, Finn is involved in this.”
“Celia, that’s just not possible.”
“He told me. I said I’d stop him, and he said, ‘Better than you have tried. They’re all dead … or dying.’”
Dom gave me a long look. “There’s no way to be sure that he was talking about Isaac.”
I glared at him and he sighed again.
“Fine. Maybe you’re right. But there’s no way to prove it.”
My answer was colorful and unprintable. Dom didn’t argue, just hustled me down the hall to the reception area outside Warden Davis’s office.
I had rarely felt more helpless in my life. Using my vampire abilities, I could hear the radio behind the closed door of the warden’s office. Most of the information being relayed back was bad: perimeters down everywhere, the minefield completely disabled—both physical and metaphysical defenses down.
When I heard they’d discovered Isaac, I jumped to my feet and started pacing. Dom shot me a startled look but said nothing. The security team was bringing Isaac to the infirmary; he was in bad shape according to their reports. Once the lockdown was lifted, if Isaac was stable enough, they’d attempt a helicopter evacuation.
The sweep of the lower floors was complete by the time they brought him in from the minefield, so Warden Davis let Dom and me go to the infirmary—with an armed escort, of course. I didn’t care that we were under guard; I’d be there when Isaac arrived and could see for myself how he was and hear anything he might have to say.
The infirmary was a large rectangular room with white walls and an acoustical tile ceiling. It held only four beds, two on each of the long walls. Each sat in its own spell circle and was equipped with full metal restraints. Surrounding the beds were a variety of machines, large and small, only some of which looked familiar from my own hospital stays, as well as the expected cabinets for medical supplies and other equipment.
At one end of the room was a large table equipped with computers as well as a large interactive clear plastic touch screen.
The man in charge was Dr. Halston. Middle-aged, tall, and slender, he had thinning dark hair that he wore in an oiled comb-over. The skin of his face and hands was smooth and baby soft, with no sign that he’d ever needed to shave or that he’d used his hands for anything as mundane as physical labor. His white lab coat was pristine, and it was clear from the first moment that our entrance into his domain was an unwelcome invasion.
“This is unacceptable.” He glared at me and Dom. Before either of us could say anything, Halston flicked one hand, dismissing us. “There is no waiting room, but my office is through that door.” He pointed a manicured finger. “Go.”
I could tell that there was no point in arguing with him.
Halston’s office was spartan, physically and psychically cold, without a single picture or personal item in view. The screen saver on his computer was the standard factory-installed image. I found the whole effect disturbingly impersonal.
Time passed slowly. We waited without talking for hours. I could hear things going on, the guards standing outside the office door wore radios, but there was nothing worth discussing with Dom.
Finally the door opened and the doctor stepped wearily through. He stripped off his jacket, dropping it into a plastic bin that opened with a foot pedal, and said, “I’ve got him stable enough to travel. I’ve set up a magical barrier that will protect his wounds from any further contamination. He needs surgery as soon as possible, so I’ve arranged to fly him to UCLA Medical Center. The medevac chopper will arrive in five minutes.” I opened my mouth to speak but Halston held up one hand, forestalling me.
“The complete lockdown is being lifted, but special safety protocols are still in place, so under normal circumstances, neither of you would be allowed to leave yet. However, I’ve checked with the warden and he says that one of you can fly out with Mr. Levy if there’s room in the helicopter and the pilot agrees to take you.”
“You go,” Dom said to me. “There are some things I want to check into before I leave. And you should be with Isaac.”
I nodded, hoping Dom knew what he was doing. Halston slid on another jacket, then opened the door and escorted me into the main room and to Isaac’s bedside.
Isaac looked like hell. He’d been beaten and left to die in the middle of the minefield. Despite a severe concussion and multiple broken bones, including an open fracture of his right thigh, he’d somehow managed to drag himself into the shade of a large rock. Had the mines been active, that movement would have killed him. But I knew from the reports I’d overheard from outside Warden Davis’s office that the mines had all been deactivated. Every single one.
Despite that fragment of luck, he had nearly died from a combination of shock, the effects of his injuries, and dehydration. I wasn’t sure what Halston had done, but Isaac was hooked up to several machines and had more than one IV running. I assumed he was heavily sedated, but even so, he kept making small, desperate sounds that hurt to hear.
I closed my eyes, concentrating, trying to speak to Isaac mind-to-mind. He was too far gone, his thoughts totally incoherent. That was terrifying. “Has anyone called his wife?”
“I did.” I hadn’t noticed the woman in scrubs before. I’m usually more observant than that, and it bothered me that I’d missed her. “Mrs. Levy is on her way to Los Angeles.”
“Good.”
I don’t remember much about the flight from the Needle to UCLA Medical Center. I was too worried about Isaac to notice anything else. There was a close call—his heart stopped and I was shoved aside so they could lower the magical barrier and use the paddles on him. We were greeted on the medevac landing pad by ER doctors and nurses with a gurney. They wheeled him off, already working on him, as I climbed carefully out of the helicopter. I stayed low even though the rotors were set well above my height. Sometimes you have to listen to your instincts.
Waving my thanks to the pilot and the EMTs, I hurried out of the way. As soon as I was clear, the chopper rose from the pad and roared out of sight.