Cyrus was already striding toward the door, his earlier tenderness replaced by razor-sharp focus.
"Rina's condition deteriorated. Isabelle can't stabilize her."
Kane's blood turned to ice. He grabbed the first jacket he could find, pulling it on as he followed Cyrus out of the penthouse.
"How bad?"
"Bad enough that Isabelle called eight times in thirty minutes."
The elevator ride felt endless.
Kane paced the small space like a caged animal.
Cyrus stood perfectly still, but Kane could feel the fury radiating from him.
"She was stable last night." Kane's voice cracked slightly. "Isabelle said her frost-webbing would hold."
"Well, things have changed."
Kane pressed his palms against his temples, guilt clawing at his chest.
Had he made the wrong choice? Should he have taken Rina to the Bureau's medical wing instead?
The BSA had protocols for half-spirits, even if they weren't perfect. At least they had experience with unstable conditions.
