He limped inside and was immediately swallowed by almost complete darkness as the gate closed. Obsidian walls etched with crude maps that represented Earth and Sheoul surrounded him on all sides, the thin lines that made up the maps glowing in a painter’s palette of colors.
In his arms, the female spasmed, the force of her seizure knocking him hard into the wall. Pain tore through his upper body and his arm went limp, and motherfuck, his left shoulder had wrenched from the socket. Sucking air between his teeth, he gently lowered the female to the floor and used his good hand to tap out the map—North America, the United States, New York state, New York City—until he found the medical emblem that would take him to Underworld General Hospital, which existed beneath the streets of the Big Apple, right under unsuspecting human noses.
The gate opened into an emergency room illuminated by red bulbs caged in rows on the ceiling. A tremor of unease tripped through him, which wasn’t a surprise, given that the last time he was here, he’d come to kill his brothers.
Talk about awkward.
Cookie was still lying motionless on the floor of the Harrowgate, and she was going to stay there unless Lore got his act together. He cradled his useless arm and eye-balled one of the stone columns supporting the Harrowgate entrance. Shit. This was gonna hurt like a mother.
Bracing himself, he jammed his shoulder into the pillar. Pain cluster-bombed his arm as it popped back into the socket. A wave of nausea rolled over him, but he gathered up the female and limped toward the triage desk.
The nurse manning the station, a dark-skinned, humanoid Bedim demon, looked up from a stack of paperwork. An extremely sensual species whose females were usually kept in a harem, the Bedim rarely ventured into the world outside whatever Sheoulin palace they lived in. Lore might have appreciated her bid for independence, had he not been bleeding to death.
“You are both injured,” she said.
“You think?”
She jabbed her pen at him. “An attitude like that will get you nothing but an ass-kicking, mister.”
Jesus. Bedim were usually a peaceful, friendly people, but give demons some power, and they turned into… well, demons. “Whatever. Just get us some help.”
The Bedim sniffed haughtily, but already medical staff were surrounding them. A guy in scrubs gestured for Lore to follow. Lore did, to a trauma room where he laid out Cookie on the examination table. A female Trillah nurse put her fingers to the female’s wrist.
“What are you doing?” Scrubs Guy shouted at the Trillah, startling Lore. “ABCs, you idiot! Airway, breathing, circulation… in that order. You’ve been a nurse for how long?”
Snarling, whiskers twitching, the nurse bit out some choice curses, and Lore swore Scrubs Guy was going to go right over the exam table at her.
“Hey,” Lore snapped. “Is this a hospital or not?”
Scrubs Guy and the Trillah uttered more obscenities, but at least they got back to the crisis at hand.
“What happened?” Scrubs Guy had a star-shaped mole behind his ear, which meant he was some sort of shapeshifter. He cut Cookie’s shirt up the middle with shears and peeled the flaps of fabric away from her skin.
“Shot with a crossbow.” Ooh, black bra. “I don’t know what kind of bolt.”
“What species is she?”
Satin, not lace. “No clue.” And front closure. Nice.
Eidolon, dressed in green scrubs and black boots, stalked into the room with the authority of a king entering his castle. “She’s a fallen angel.”
At once, in a move so coordinated it seemed rehearsed and almost comical, everyone backed away from her, hands up.
Lore turned to Eidolon. “How do you know?”
“Tayla called. Is this the female who injured you and Kynan?”
“The very cookie.”
Eidolon lowered his voice so no one but Lore could hear. “Ky can only be injured by angels, and only fallen ones would want to harm him.”
What? Eidolon had better be wrong about that, or Lore’s job just took a turn down the Royally Fucked Highway, and there were no exits on that road to hell. “Are you sure?”
“There’s a way to confirm it.”
Eidolon went to the female’s side and touched her arm. His dermoire lit up, and she moaned. “Female? What’s your name?”
She moaned again, and Eidolon leaned close. She whispered something, and Eidolon nodded as he straightened to his full height. Concentration put lines in his brow as he channeled power into her through his hand. Eidolon’s Seminus gift allowed him to probe deep inside a body for injury and heal wounds, but when his mouth tightened into a grim slash, Lore knew the news was not good.
“What’s wrong with her?”
“Poisoned. Spine’s broken and she’s got massive internal injuries.” Eidolon barked some orders to the nearby staff, and when no one moved, Eidolon snapped, “Now! It’s safe to touch her. You never had a problem with Reaver.”