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“Everything…hurts,” Claire whimpered.

“I know,” I soothed, running a hand through her hair. “You probably have at least a couple cracked ribs, and your wrist is broken, too. I’m gonna try to patch you up a bit before we get out of here, okay?”

“No,” she said, and there was a weird rattle to her voice that made me freeze. She gestured at her chest, like she couldn’t get the words out, and when she took a breath, it rattled again. “Something…wrong.”

“Fuck,” I breathed, panic seizing me again. “What’s wrong? What hurts? Show me, baby.”

She just gestured at her chest again, and I lowered my ear to listen.

“Breathe in,” I told her, and when she did, I heard that same eerie crackling sound, only louder. Horror gripped me for the millionth time that day. I didn’t know exactly what it meant…except that she had internal injuries I couldn’t see.

I wanted to cry all over again. Instead, I took a deep breath, trying to form a new plan that would get Claire to a doctor. Whatever was wrong with her was beyond my skill to treat.

“Okay,” I said, fighting for calm, “so what we’ll do is—”

An ear-splitting bang shook my whole world yet again.

Chapter 30

John

As it turned out, the last of Hamilton’s crew had made it to the Order’s blockade, and rather than waste time fighting their way through, they blew it up. I remembered what Claire had said about the vault being bomb-proof, and I half-carried, half-dragged her in there to shelter us.

When the door to the bank opened, he called out, and Claire’s eyes popped open. He came inside with a ragtag crew of both Delta and White Rose soldiers.

“We’re more or less on the same side now,” he said. “I heard Claire call out when they got you guys in the truck and saw them drive away with you, so I came to find you. Can she walk?”

Claire was too out of it to respond, so I did. “No. She’s hurt really bad. Something’s wrong.”

Hamilton frowned in concern. “We got a stretcher in the back of the truck.”

The crew he’d brought were mostly out in the street, either battling it out with stragglers or making sure the ones on the ground were actually dead. He managed to round up a couple men to lift Claire onto the stretcher and load her into the back of their military truck.

“We got her,” Hamilton said, clapping me on my (good) shoulder. “We can’t take her to the hospital. The Order has it blocked off. But we can at least get her back to the White Rose garrison. They might have a medic there.”

“My sister’s there,” I said immediately. “She’s a nurse. She can help.”

“Good deal.”

I climbed into the back of the truck alongside Claire. She was fading in and out as they closed the doors behind us. I sat beside her, her good hand clasped in mine, and stroked her forehead in soothing circles with my thumb. She leaned into my touch and groaned in pain.

“John?” she mumbled, eyes still shut.

“I’m still here, beautiful,” I said softly.

She relaxed a little at the sound of my voice, and my heart ached. Every time she breathed in, there was still that horrible crunching rattle, and it scared the shit out of me. I took a deep breath. I need to stay calm for her.

“Hurts to breathe,” she rasped, and I nearly lost it.

So much for that. I pressed a kiss against her hair while I fought to hold myself together.

“I know,” I whispered. “Kimmy’s waiting for us. You’ll feel better soon, sweetheart.”

“Wanna go home.” She was drifting again.

“I’ll bring you home,” I promised. “No matter what. For now, rest. Save your strength.”

“You’re bleeding,” Claire whispered, and I realized her eyes were open a crack, watching me.