ana

he sofa staring at a string of texts

cot by the grease pit? Sma

a flicker of emotion, walked to the fridge, and popped open a cold beer. With my mother's old medical notes spr

oncrete ramp beneath an abandoned slaughterhouse. Outlaw riders couldn't go to human hospitals where blood tests

g a splint around a warrior's broken shin. Seeing me step through the door, h

orr said cheerfully, tossing me a clean white coat. "You're

nt straight to work, cleaning shrapnel wounds

ray, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Bren

ne had the hang-arounds haul all her designer bags into Cleon's master bedroom yesterday and sprayed that fake vanilla perfume everywhere.

genuine calming herbs, their own rage

She's the woman living in that

t even step int

n't call this number again." I hung

banged open. Two blood-soaked bikers stumbl

his eyes wild. "Diane started coughing up

state-onto the gurney. Dorr pressed his stethoscope to her chest, his brow furrowing. "He

ed sharply. Beneath the smell of sweat and roa

, I lunged forward and grabbed his wrist. "Stop!

ett

SUV, watching the gray ribbon of the i

we ran the check. The woman's name is Ariana Gomez. She cut ties with the Iron

er glove, where a faint trace of her winter cedar scent still lingered

oom stall, and the glowing drop of blood on her fingertip that had quieted the ra