I woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside the reinforced glass of my bedroom windows. For a split second, I forgot about the bullet. I forgot about the Vane Syndicate and the blood on the dining room floor.
Then, I tried to sit up.
A jagged bolt of lightning ripped through my midsection, pinning me back against the pillows. I let out a low, strangled hiss, my vision swimming in a sea of gray spots.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
The voice was cool, professional, and entirely too close. I turned my head slowly, my neck feeling like it was made of rusted iron. Chloe was standing by the window, her silhouette framed by the morning sun. She was wearing a fresh lab coat over her clothes, her hair pulled back into a tight, severe bun.
She didn't look like the woman who had gripped my hand in the dark last night. She looked like a warden.
"How long?" I managed to rasp. My throat felt like I'd swallowed a handful of dry sand.
