Big money. Huge. And how had they constructed all this without someone on the human side of things catching on? There must be a lot of vampires. Had to be.

Workmen and architects and craftsmen… all able to pass among humans if they wanted to.

The geneticist in her got a serious case of brain strain. If chimpanzees shared ninety-eight percent of the DNA of humans, how close were vampires? And evolutionarily speaking, when did this other species branch off from apes and Homo sapiens? Yeah… wow… she'd give anything to get a crack at their double helix. If they were indeed going to clean her mind before they let her go, medical science was missing out on so much. Especially as they didn't get cancer and healed so fast.

What an opportunity.

At the far side of the gym they stopped in front of a steel door marked EQUIPMENT/PT ROOM. Inside there were racks and stacks of weapons: An arsenal of marital arts swords and nunchakus. Daggers that were locked in closets. Guns. Throwing stars.

"Dear… God."

"This is just for training purposes," said with a whole lot of meh.

"Then what the hell do you use to fight with?" As all kinds of War of the Worlds scenarios marched through her head, she caught the familiar scent of blood. Well, semi-familiar. There was a different tint to the smell, something spicy, and she remembered the same winelike fragrance when she'd been in the OR with her patient.

Across the way a door marked physical therapy, swung open. The beautiful blond vampire who'd trucked her out of the hospital put his head around the jamb. "Thank God you're here."

All Jane's physician instincts came online as she walked into a tiled room and saw the soles of a pair of shitkickers hanging off a gurney. She pushed ahead of the men, shoving them out of her way so she could get to the guy lying on the table.

It was the one who'd hypnotized her, the one with the yellow eyes and the spectacular hair. And he really needed attention. His left orbital region was crushed inward, the lid so swollen he couldn't open the thing, that half of his face twice the size it should be. She had a feeling the bone above his eye was collapsed, and so was the one on his cheek.

She put her hand on his shoulder and met him in the eye that was open. "You're a mess."

He cracked a weak smile. "You don't say."

"But I'm going to fix you."

"You think you can?"

"No." She shook her head back and forth. "I know I can."

She wasn't a plastic surgeon, but given his healing capabilities, she was confident she could address the issues he had without marring his looks. Assuming she had the right supplies.

The door swung wide again, and Jane froze. Oh, God, it was the giant with the jet-black hair and the black wraparound sunglasses. She'd wondered if she hadn't dreamed him, but evidently he was real. Totally real. And in charge. He carried himself like he owned everything and everybody in the room and could do away with it all in a swipe of his hand.

He took one look at her next to the guy on the gurney and said, "Tell me this is not what's happening."

Instinctively Jane stepped back in the direction of V, and just as she did, she felt him come up behind her. Although he didn't touch her, she knew he was close. And prepared to defend her.

The black-haired one shook his head at the wounded guy. "Phury… for fuck's sake, we need to get you to Havers's."

Phury? What the hell kind of name was that?

"No," was the weak response.

"Why the hell not?"

"Bella's there. She sees me like this… going to freak… She's already bleeding."

"Ah… shit."

"And we have someone here," the guy said wheezed. His one eye moved over to Jane. "Right?"

As they all looked in her direction, the black-haired one was clearly cranked out. So it was a surprise when he said, "Will you treat our brother?"

The request was nonthreatening and respectful. Evidently he'd been upset primarily that his buddy was down for the count and not getting treated.

She cleared her throat. "Yeah, I will. But what do I have to work with? I'm going to want to knock him out-"

"Don't worry about that," Phury said.

She shot him a level stare. "You want me to put your face back together without general anesthesia?"

"Yes."

Maybe they had a different pain tolerance-

"Are you insane?" Red Sox muttered.

Okay, maybe not.

But enough with the talk. Assuming this boy with the Rocky Balboa puss healed as fast as her patient did, she had to get operating now, before the bones knit together wrong and she had to rebreak them.

Looking around the room, she saw glass-fronted cabinets full of supplies and hoped like hell she could put together a surgical kit from what was around. "I don't suppose any of you have medical experience?"

V spoke up, right at her ear, almost as close as her clothes. "Yeah, I can assist. I'm trained as a paramedic."

She eyed him over her shoulder, a lick of heat going through her.

Get back in the game, Whitcomb. "Good. You got any kind of local anesthesia?"

"Lidocaine."

"How about some sedatives? And maybe a little morphine. If he flinches at the wrong time, I could blind him."

"Yeah." As V started for the rows of stainless-steel cabinets, she noticed he was wobbly. That walk down the tunnel had been a long one, and even though he seemed healed on the surface, he was still just days out of open-heart surgery.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "You're going to sit down." She glanced over at Red Sox. "Get him a chair. Now." When the patient cracked his mouth to argue, she blew him off by heading across the room. "Not interested in it. I need you on the ball while I operate, and this could take a while. You're better, but you're not as strong as you think you are, so sit your ass down and tell me where to get what I need."

There was a heartbeat of silence, then someone barked a laugh while her patient cursed in the background. The kinglike one started to grin at her.

Red Sox rolled a chair over from the whirlpool bath and shoved it right into the backs of V's legs. "Park it, big guy. On your doctor's orders."

When the patient sat down, she said, "Now, here's what I'm going to want."

She listed the standard scalpel, forceps, and suction supplies, then asked for surgical wire and thread, Betadine, saline solution to rinse, gauze padding, latex gloves…

She was amazed at how quickly it came together, but then, she and her patient were on the same wavelength. He directed her around the room succinctly, anticipated what she might want, and didn't waste words. The perfect nurse, as it were.

She let out a huge sigh of relief that they had a surgical drill. "And I don't suppose you have a magnifying headset?"

"Cabinet by the crash cart," V said. "Lower drawer. Left side. You want me to scrub in?"

"Yup." She went over and found the set. "We have X-ray capability?"

"No."

"Shit." She put her hands on her hips. "Whatever. I'll go in blind."

As she put the headset on, V. got up and went to work on his hands and forearms over the sink in the far corner. When he was done she took his place, then they gloved up.

She came back to Phury, meeting him in his good eye. "This is probably going to hurt even with the local and some morphine. You'll probably pass out, and I hope it happens sooner rather than later."

She went for a syringe and felt the familiar sense of power come to her as she set about fixing what needed to be repaired-

"Wait," he said. "No drugs."

"What?"

"Just do it." There was a gruesome anticipation in his eye, one that was not right on so many levels. He wanted to be hurt.

She narrowed her stare. And wondered if he had let this happen to himself.

"Sorry." Jane pierced the rubber seal of the lidocaine vial with the needle. As she drew out what she needed she said, "There is no way in hell I'm going in without you numbed up. You feel strongly to the contrary, find yourself another surgeon."