Night Betrayed Read Online Free PDF Page A

hurt. Emptied. Why not me?
    And what now? It would be a long time until he could bear seeing her with someone else.
    From beyond the gently wafting blanket walls, Theo heard soft muttering, likely a fellow patient, followed by the rustle of bedding. Someone murmured back, low and soothing, and he wondered if it was the Death Lady crooning to one of her charges. What exactly did she do besides hold their hands and offer them pot?
    What a depressing job. Watching people die. His mouth flattened again.
    He’d seen enough suffering and death in his lifetime; more than most people of his generation would have ever expected. And he had so often relived the tragedies in dreams and memories that he couldn’t imagine choosing to face them every single day.
    And yet . . . that woman, the Death Lady, had a peaceful, accepting aura about her.
    Other than her offering of a replenishment of his broth, along with a hunk of thick, dark bread, Selena hadn’t made another appearance—at least not in Theo’s carrel. But her friend, the older, plumper woman whose name was Vonnie, had come by several times before night fell and the lights were turned off. She’d helped him wash up and get comfortable, all the while chattering on about . . . well, everything. To his mind, she seemed much too light and enthusiastic to be hanging around dying people all the time—knowing there was nothing that could be done for them but watch them in pain and weakness.
    Within Vonnie’s nonstop prattle, she made a point of saying more than once that never before had one of Selena’s patients recovered as Theo had, which led him to his own snarly, grumpy thoughts: So why change her track record now?
    And who the hell had seen fit to resurrect me from the dead—a second time? Wasn’t once enough?
    Theo sighed and stared at the ceiling. Okay, so here he was again: should have been dead; brought back to life— For what? And why me?
    Hell, he’d asked these questions for the last fifty years, and hadn’t gotten an answer yet. He’d been searching for the reason he’d been transformed—or not—and the purpose. He’d been going through life since then, watching and waiting for some great event to explain it all.
    But nothing. Just days and days and years and years of trying to get beyond the horror of losing everything he’d ever known, except for Lou.
    Lou.
    Dammit.
    His twin was probably worried beyond sick. And Theo had hardly given him a thought, being dead and all.
    Though it wasn’t as if he hadn’t squeaked by death before. Lou said Theo had more lives than a cat, and that had been even before the Change. And since then . . . well, only a month ago, he’d been trapped by gangas in an old shopping mall with Elliott. And that was only the most recent brush he’d had with the Grim Reaper—other than this one.
    He really had tried to curb his recklessness, his yen for adventure, in hopes that he and Sage would get together. She was quiet and studious and shy, and he hadn’t wanted to intimidate or worry her. But that had obviously not mattered—because Simon was a man with a past of violence and death.
    Now, in darkness cut only by the wisp of moonlight and a distant glow beyond the cloth dividers, Theo pulled himself upright with sharp, frustrated movements. Easier to do now anyway, when he couldn’t see the room spinning quite so well. Head pounding. Ugh.
    He had to contact his brother. His feet touched the floor, identifying some sort of bumpy, soft covering. He shifted off the edge of the bed . . . and had to grab at the table to keep himself from crashing to the floor as his knees buckled.
    Guess I was only mostly dead. The reference to the old movie made him smile in spite of himself, and he imagined Lou responding, Have fun storming the castle!
    Seated on the edge of the bed, once again stable, Theo closed his eyes and extended a tentative thought, searching for Lou in his subconscious or whatever it was that connected the two