Marked by Sarah Fine Page B

worked. He’d never wanted to save a patient more than he wanted to save this one. Anything to chase that pain out of Cacy’s eyes. It shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did— he’d only just met her—but he didn’t have time to analyze his feelings.
    Patrick’s breathing was rapid and shallow, his heart rate fluttering and unsteady. Eli turned up the oxygen on the minipump and grabbed an oropharyngeal airway, in case his patient lost consciousness.
    Suddenly, Patrick’s eyes opened and fixed on Eli with a burning intensity. His lips began to move. Eli tilted his head and bent close, trying to catch the whispered, faltering words. He understood only one, but it was enough to send his own heart rate sky-high. “. . . Galena.”
    Eli leaned away and stared at Patrick, who looked back at him like he knew exactly who Eli was. Like he could see straight through him.
    Why had Patrick Ferry just said Eli’s sister’s name?
    Cacy slammed on the brakes and cursed at the traffic. Eli caught himself against the ambulance bench and broke eye contact with Patrick. The cardiac wand screeched.
    Cacy’s father had gone into cardiac arrest.
    From the front seat, Eli heard a broken, hitching sob. And all he could think was No. No. I will not let this happen.
    His hands flew over the equipment; he inserted the airway in less than five seconds, injected self-perpetuating saline gel, positioned the autocompression device to keep the heart going, suctioned beneath the autostaunch, and checked blood-pressure-ring readings. They weren’t good.
    His eyes flicked up and caught Cacy’s in the rearview mirror. “Eyes on the road,” he barked. “I’ve got this.”
    But he didn’t.
    Cacy pulled up to the front of the hospital and cut the sirens just as the piercing scream of the cardiac wand fell silent.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    B y the time Cacy crawled into the back of the ambulance, Eli was already shouting for hospital staff and wrenching her father’s stretcher off the rear deck of the rig. He plowed through the double doors of the emergency department, hauling the stretcher by himself instead of waiting for the nurses to help. Cacy’s father lay still and pale atop it, the autocompressor doing its futile work.
    Cacy already knew it was too late. She’d seen it with her own eyes, through the lens of her Scope. Her father had been Marked.
    She climbed off the back of the ambulance, thinking vaguely that she should follow, that she should be doing something for her father. But her legs couldn’t hold her up, and she collapsed to the ground.
    “Cacy!” Eli jogged back through the emergency department doors. He gathered her in his arms and climbed into the back of the ambulance, clutching her to his chest. “Did you hit your head when you fell?” he asked.
    “No,” she whispered. He tried to lay her on the bench, already reaching for his biolight. It was clear he was planning to examine her, like she was one of his patients. But that wasn’t what she needed. What she needed was something to hold on to, something to keep her from falling, from tumbling over the edge of the world. Her fingers curled around the thick muscles of his shoulders, hanging on tight. She buried her head in the crook of his neck. His fingers nudged under her chin and tipped her face up to his. He gave her a long, searching look. Then he sat on the bench and wrapped her in his arms.
    “I told them you were his daughter. They said they’d give us a status update as soon as they could.”
    She nodded.
    “I’m so sorry, Cacy.” His voice was rough. “There’s still a chance—”
    “No,” she choked. “Don’t, Eli. He was dead when we pulled into the ambulance bay. You know that.”
    He didn’t argue. He might be optimistic, but he obviously wasn’t stupid. Instead, he held her tighter. The warm, clean scent of him filled her up, keeping the darkness at bay for the moment. She couldn’t push him away. She needed this feeling of safety too