Nightshine: A Novel of the Kyndred Read Online Free PDF Page A

south tower, left side.” She rapidly related the details of the wounded before she added, “My partner has been shot and I’m taking cover with two of the vics.”
    “Stand by.” The supervisor repeated the details she’d given him over the police emergency band before issuing terse orders to reroute other rigs to the scene. Finally he said, “Echo, we can’t get to you until SWAT responds and secures the scene. Keep this line open and use your MCI protocols.”
    “Acknowledged, dispatch.” Another window blew out over their heads, pelting them with broken glass. “You want to tell SWAT to move their asses, please?”
    “They’re on the way,” the supervisor promised. “Hang in, Echo.”
    “What are MCI protocols?” Samuel asked as she started an IV on the driver.
    She tore off a strip of tape and rolled it over the gauze she’d placed over the needle. “It’s how we respond to a mass casualty incident.”
    “You consider this a mass casualty situation?”
    “Any incident that has more patients than the on-scene responders can treat or transport is an MCI,” she told him. “The protocol we use is called START, for simple triage and rapid treatment, which includes tagging everyone.” She pulled her tags out of her bag. “James here gets a red tag, which means he’s salvable but he needs immediate treatment.” She taped the oversize tag onto the driver’s sleeve and then clipped another onto Samuel’s lapel. “You’re walking wounded, so you get one of these.”
    He glanced down at the green tag. “I’m not wounded.”
    “We don’t have a tag for ‘nothing happened to this guy,’ so it’s the next-best thing.” She shoved the rest of the tags in her pocket, where she could easily reach them, and slung her carry-in strap over her neck. “I have to get back and tag the others. You keep your head down, and yell for me if James starts having trouble again.”
    One of his huge hands clamped around her wrist. “You’re not going anywhere.”
     
    Samuel Taske was not accustomed to trying to restrain a woman with physical force. Aside from his size and strength, both of which bordered on superhuman, he had been taught virtually from birth to treat all females with gentleness and respect.
    He didn’t consider it a hardship in the slightest. He adored everything about women: their scents and smiles, their instincts and intelligence. He often watched them with the wistful longing of a man who had already accepted that he would live out his life alone, thanks to the additional psychic gift that allowed him to see individual time lines as they stretched out far into the future. He had used it to examine his own future, which followed a solitary path that would never be crossed or entwined with that of a wife or children.
    That he was prepared to break Charlotte Marena’s wrist to keep her from leaving him had nothing to do with his feelings about women. He had come to this place, to this bridge, solely for the purpose of keeping her alive. If he had to put her in a cast to do so, he would.
    “Sam, I have to do this,” she was saying in a careful, gentle tone she probably used with people suffering some sort of mental crisis. “I need to check on the other patients and make sure they’re doing okay. It’s my job.”
    “You can’t do anything for them if you’re dead, Charlotte.” He didn’t release her. “The police will be here soon. I can hear the sirens.”
    “They might have a hostage negotiator try to talk him down first,” she said. “That kind of thing usually takes time.”
    “Then I’ll have to entertain you with stories from my last trip overseas.” He had to stop staring at her big dark eyes; he felt as if he were about to tumble into them. “Have you ever been to Paris? Very old and stately. Amazing cuisine. Dreadful waiters.”
    “Can’t say I have.” Instead of lightening, her expression turned grim. “Much as I’d love to hear all about your jaunts around the