The Blood Bag's Billion-Dollar Revenge

nymore, not technically. The Honda Civic felt more

ated the familiar route to St. Luke's Private Clinic. It was a fortress of glas

k mask over her face. She didn't head for the service entrance this time. She knew the

checking their pagers. As the heavy door swung shut, she caught it with t

hitching not from exertion, but from the phanto

of her sneakers. She reached the corner near Suite 402-Ca

tional microphone she had "borrowed" from a PI friend ye

through the earpiece,

a phone. A giggle followed. "No, he didn't see. He thinks I'm too weak to lif

re," a muffled voice on

'll be 'miraculously cured' again. Dr. Smith knows the drill. He gets his MR

ite. Three years. Three years of needles. Three years of fainting spells,

a life. She was

ed the d

ith a gunshot crack. The mur

e was a pizza box open on her lap. A slice of pepperoni was

was a bottle of professional-grade

ed inside, pull

under the sheet, knocking the bottle over. It spi

line squeaked. "I

he bed, her movements calm and predatory. "Fo

stammered, her eyes darting to the

le. "Kryolan Stage Blood. 'Realistic flow and drying time.'

ck!" Caroline

roline's grip was strong. Surp

ne shrieked. "Help! Nu

eraphina asked, her voice low. "Let

and slapped Caroli

d snapped to the side. The red handprint bloome

silence. She touched her ch

e time you made me leave my own bir

er again. Bac

, leaning over the bed

ng back against the pillows. "Yo

him

lew open b

hell is

Caroline cowering on the bed, sobbing, clutching her face

embling hand. "Save me! She's trying to kil

izza box peeking out from the sheets. He didn't look at the bottle of d

des. He grabbed Seraphina by th

her!" h

art holding the heart monitor. Pain shot up her side, sha

shield. He glared at Seraphina with

woman! You come here, refuse to help, and t

d hip. She looked at Julian, really looked at hi

had for him dissolved. It didn't break; it jus

softly. She let out a short, dry la