"I know. Don't worry about him. You just hang in there, you got it?" Her eyelids drooped with her weak nod. Kellan clamped his teeth and fangs together as he smoothed his fingers over her clammy brow. "How we doing, Doc?"
"Be a helluva lot better once I get the blood flow stanched," Doc replied, hands slick with red, face grim as he tightened the belt on Candice's thigh.
Kellan shot a glance over his shoulder to Nina, who hovered nervously in the doorway. "Clean towels, lots of them. Cloths too. Bring whatever you can find."
"On it." She took off at once.
Candice's teeth started to chatter. Her eyes were glazed, alternating between rolling back in her head and sliding over to focus on him. "I'm s-scared, Bowman. Don't want to die."
"You're going to be all right," he assured her. "Doc's treated worse. You remember the shit condition I was in when you dragged me in to meet him that first time?"
"Yeah." Her voice was thready, small. "I remember."
Kellan nodded, swept a lock of damp black hair from where it was plastered to her cheek. Her skin was cold, alarmingly so. "Doc didn't let me die that night; neither did you. He and I aren't about to let you die now either. So, you hang in, Brady, that's a f**king order."
"Okay," she said, giving him a faint smile as her eyes drifted closed. A shudder went through her whole body, prolonged, bone-deep. She trembled, blue-lipped and shivering, despite the summertime humidity of the bunker. "Freezing in here," she murmured. "I'm so cold."
Before Kellan could respond or turn to find something to provide her some warmth, a blanket appeared from somewhere behind him.
Mira.
He looked up to find her standing at his back, holding a blanket she'd brought from his bed. She moved around him to cover Candice's torso, gently tucking it under her chin and shoulders to keep in as much heat as possible.
When she was done, she stepped back, her hand coming to rest tenderly on Kellan's shoulder. He reached up to meet her touch, clasping her fingers in a grateful squeeze. His guilt and self-recrimination was still acid in his gut, but the sight of Mira standing near him, the feel of her touch on him in silent support and understanding, was a balm he couldn't deny. He saw Doc's gaze flick to the unspoken exchange, saw the question in the rebel's eyes as Kellan's hand lingered on Mira's, possessive and intimate.
"Tell us what you need us to do, Doc."
"Keep her awake," the medic said, going back to work on the wound. "Shock will make her want to sleep, but we can't let her do that. She needs to stay conscious right now."
Kellan nodded. "Open your eyes, Candice. I need you to look at me, stay focused," he prompted, letting go of Mira's hand to give Candice's shoulder a rousing shake. "I need you to tell me what happened in here with Vince. Can you do that?"
"Yes," she murmured. Her eyelids lifted, though she seemed to struggle with the effort. "Came in here to pick up Ackmeyer's meal tray. Chaz came with me . . . gonna take Ackmeyer for a bathroom break."
Kellan grunted in acknowledgment, his eye drifting to the upended tray of half-eaten food that lay scattered on the floor nearby. When Candice shuddered again, struggling to suck air into her lungs, Kellan reached down and stroked his palm over the top of her head. "You're doing great. Take your time, but you stay with me. You stay awake, Brady."
"O-okay. I'm okay." She looked up at him and took a few deeper breaths. "Ackmeyer asked if we were letting him go . . . started going on about how he was innocent . . . never meant to hurt anyone with his inventions."
All the things Kellan heard from the scientist himself. Things Kellan's touch had vouched for as truth.
"He said someone must've stolen his work," Candice went on. "Said he wanted to help us find out who it was and see them punished . . . he said if what happened was true - that his work had been used for harm, for murder - he would personally make sure the technology was destroyed, no matter what it was worth."
Kellan's jaw tightened at the thought of how wrong he'd been in going after Jeremy Ackmeyer. He'd assumed the worst, and he dreaded that the fallout from that bad call was far from over.
Candice weathered another full-body shudder as Nina came in with an armful of towels and handed them off to Doc. Mira pitched in without being asked, she and Nina helping Doc wrap Candice's wound as she continued with her account. "We didn't realize Vince was in the room . . . not until he asked how much Ackmeyer thought someone might pay for his technology."
"Son of a bitch," Kellan muttered, needing no further explanation to understand what Vince would be up to next. "What did Ackmeyer tell him? How much did he say the UV tech was worth?"
"He didn't," Candice replied. "He told Vince it didn't matter . . . said it wasn't for sale, and he wouldn't allow anyone to profit from it now."
"Which obviously didn't sit well with Vince," Kellan snarled, his every fiber still seething with predatory rage and the need to make his traitorous comrade pay.
Mira met his gaze from where she crouched near Doc and Nina, working like a member of the team, not the unwilling captive she'd been just the night before. He didn't want to think of her as one of his crew. Didn't want to think of her in any of the ways he was now. He tore his gaze away from her and put it back on his wounded colleague. "Keep your eyes open, Candice. Tell me the rest now."
"Everything happened so fast," she said, her voice a thready whisper. "Vince had a dark look on his face . . . Next thing I knew, there was a knife in his hand. He lunged at Chaz . . . stabbed him hard in the chest. Then he grabbed Ackmeyer . . . had the knife under his chin . . . said he was going to start doing things his way."