I scrambled forward as Baldy stumbled back and tripped on the stairs behind him. He gave a surprised and wet gurgle that I not only heard, but had experienced from his side, and my innards twisted as another jet of blood spurted from the hole in his throat.

“Liana, no!” my brother shouted, his hand clamping like a vice around my forearm and holding me back. “He could still be dangerous! I warned you something like this was going to happen, and…”

I couldn’t listen anymore. An intense anger twisted up inside me, forcing me to whip around and face him. His eyes widened, his grip loosening around my arm, but I shoved him back. He’d forced me to shoot at Leo. He couldn’t have waited—he just had to react. I didn’t care that he was saving my life, that he didn’t know that Leo was inside of Baldy. I cared that he had just barged in and ruined everything. I had been about to get Baldy to back down, and he had charged in without waiting, or listening to what was going on!

“Leo’s inside of him!” I shouted as he stumbled back. He came to a stop, some of the anger draining from his face.

“What?” he asked, but I was already turning away and racing toward the stairs.

“Maddox, grab some smelling salts and get Quess up to help Eric. And bring me a net transfer kit, now!” I shouted as I dropped to my knees next to Baldy. The gun had fallen from his grasp, and I shoved it aside and lifted my hands to… help him?

I stared down at him, suddenly transfixed by the blood spurting from his neck. He was bleeding out fast, and I had none of the dermal bonding agent on me to stop it. His arms struggled as his mouth opened and closed like a fish’s, blood gurgling in the back of his throat as he choked on his own blood, causing my own memories of being in his spot to flash before my eyes.

Did I look like that? I wondered as he continued to flop around, helpless. Did he look down at me and see that?

A cold, hard part of me wanted to watch him bleed out. He’d taken Maddox in the Core, attacked us in the Medica and again on the catwalk, and then cut my throat in the Attic. He was the source of so much trouble, and a leader of some sort in the legacies. Countless people had probably died at his hands or by his orders, Ambrose’s among the names of the dead.

Luckily, the part that was worried about Leo was far greater. Bullets could ricochet inside the body; if the one that shot him had somehow found its way into his brain or shattered one of his vertebrae, then Leo could already be damaged. He could already be dead. And what would happen if he was inside someone when they died? Would he die as well? What must he be feeling?

To hell with saving Baldy, I decided. I had to get Leo out, and that was all I was going to worry about.

“Maddox, I need that kit!” I shouted, shoving my hands under the man’s side to flip him over. He made a gurgled sound of surprise that made my skin crawl, and I was hyperaware of the fact that he was going to bleed out faster like this. I was consciously expediting his death, and the thought made me grim as I yanked down the back of his collar.

“Liana!” Zoe sobbed.

I looked over to see Eric gasping, too, his face ashen and gray. Zoe was rocking him back and forth, her hands pressed over a hole in his chest. Blood was spurting from the wound. “Keep pressing,” I told her. “Quess is coming! Maddox is getting him.” At least, I hoped she was. She wasn’t in the room anymore, which made me hope that she had leapt into action to get Quess up. But I couldn’t stop what I was doing here to help Zoe. Leo could be hurt or dying inside of Baldy. I had to get him out.

Zoe cried harder, but I turned back to Baldy, trying to think of what I could use to cut his neck open. His gurgles were growing further and further apart, and I swallowed the excess saliva in my mouth as I tried not to think about how that could’ve been me just two days ago.

Then hands were cutting across my vision, a black kit in them, and I snatched at it and looked up to tell Maddox to get Quess. Instead, I got a face full of my brother, his expression concerned and bewildered.

“I didn’t know it was—”

“Save it,” I said curtly, tearing the bag open with quick movements. It wasn’t about him not knowing; it was about him blindly reacting. I grabbed the laser pen, took a firm grip on the back of Baldy’s head, pressed the button to emit a slender blue beam, positioned the tip over the pink scar tissue, and started to cut through the subdermal tissue.

I heard running footsteps behind me, but I focused on the incision. The skin split easily, and only a small amount of blood seeped out of the edges of the wound. I dragged the laser down, the blue beam slicing through his skin as if it weren’t even there. After I’d made an inch-long incision, I pulled the skin back.

Baldy was still now, and I threw the cutter aside and pulled out a pair of tweezers. Inside the wound, the tendrils of the net were beginning to retract, and I waited long enough for them to weave themselves into a flat, hard rectangle, glistening white amid the pink tissue and white fat. I quickly extracted the net using the tweezers and dropped it into my hand.

I shook as I carefully picked up the hard square, inspecting it for any sign of damage. Blood clung to the sides of it, making it seem like it was bleeding. I quickly wiped the blood away with my thumb, fighting back a sob as it left a pink smear in its wake. Taking it between shaky fingers, I wrapped it in the edge of my sleeve to wipe the remaining blood away so I could see it clearly. My hand trembled as I dug the small thing out again, trying not to lose my grip on it, and held it up to the light, praying. It looked intact—flat, rectangular, and white—and as I stared at it, I realized I had zero idea how to identify damage on the net.

“Liana!” Quess shouted, dragging me away from the net. I looked down at where he was now leaning over Eric and flinched when I saw how pale and still my other best friend was. Quess shot me a look over his shoulder, and I could see his own fear in his eyes. “I need Grey,” he told me.

I blanked for a second, confused as to why he would need Grey, and then I remembered. Grey was a universal donor. Eric had lost a lot of blood and would need a transfusion. Even better, putting Leo back inside Grey’s neck would tell us very quickly if Leo was damaged.

“Keep working, Quess,” I said, standing and tucking the net into my fist.

I looked over at my brother, and to my surprise I saw that he was staring at Baldy, his eyes dark and hooded. I started to check on him, but Zoe’s soft sobs, punctuated by Quess’s softly spoken orders to her, turned me away. Time was already running out for Eric. I needed to get Grey now.

I ran down the steps and across the conference room, and then up a different set of steps to the hall, passing the first doorway, then the second, finally coming to Leo’s room. I pressed the button, and the door slid open, revealing Grey in mid-step. He turned toward the door, his eyes widening in surprise, but I was already moving toward him.

“Come with me,” I said, grabbing his arm. “I need your help.”

He didn’t move for a second, and I tugged him hard as I whirled to look at him. “Please!” I begged.

His brown eyes filled with concern, and then he nodded and started to move. I hauled him behind me, my legs tearing up the distance at a quick walk, then a jog.

“What’s going on?” he asked from behind me.

“My friend’s hurt,” I told him, dragging him around the corner to the entrance. “And you’re a universal donor.”

“Wait, what? How do you know that?”

I ignored his question and pulled him through the door just as Quess was shaking his head at Zoe and causing my best friend in the world to collapse on Eric’s chest.

Eric’s unmoving chest. I sped up, bodily yanking Grey behind me as I raced over to them. “No,” I said, my teeth clenched as I slid to my knees, unconcerned by the puddle of blood.

“He’s gone, Liana,” Quess said, his dark blue eyes almost black with grief. “He—”

“Hook him up to Grey, now,” I said, my hands pressing insistently on Zoe’s back. “Zoe, move!”

I shoved her, harder than I should’ve, but I didn’t care about hurting her feelings. I wasn’t losing anyone else to that man or his legacies—not even one. I didn’t care that Quess thought it was hopeless. Eric wanted to live. He had everything in the world to live for. And I wasn’t going to let anyone give up on him.

“Liana!”

“DO IT NOW OR GIVE ME YOUR BAG AND GET THE HELL OUT!” I roared.

Quess flinched and then nodded jerkily, his hands dipping into the bag to pull out a bit of plastic tubing with two patches at the ends. As he did, I tilted Eric’s head back, trying to ignore how easily his limbs moved. I tucked the net with Leo into a pocket before lacing my fingers together. Then I began to compress his heart, counting off in my head. After thirty compressions, I stuck a finger in his mouth, clearing his airway, and then fitted my lips over his and began puffing air into his lungs.

I repeated this twice, and then switched back to pushing on his chest to compress his heart. Meanwhile, Quess had finished attaching Grey to Eric, via the hose.

“Adrenaline for his heart,” I snapped.

Grey’s eyes were wide and horrified, but he sat there quietly, watching us.

Quess nodded and pulled out a pneumatic injector. “Here,” he said, pressing it to Eric’s neck and clicking it. “It’s the last dose we can give him, though. I’ve already given him two ampules.”

I ignored that, focusing completely on Eric. “Breathe, Eric,” I said. I fitted my mouth over his and puffed more into his lungs, then pulled back. “Breathe!”

Eric’s chest rose and fell with each breath of air I shoved into him. His body jerked up and down as I pumped on his chest. But his eyes continued to stare up at the ceiling. Empty and devoid of life. Panic set in, and I redoubled my efforts.

“No,” I said, bending over him once again. “C’mon, Eric!” I cried. I blew more air into him, getting steadily dizzier from breathing too fast, but unwilling to stop. Unwilling to let him go. “You don’t want to die like this!” Blow. “You have to propose to my best friend.” I changed over to compressing on his chest and kept talking. “Invite me to your wedding.” Push. “And then make me little nieces and nephews I can spoil and love on!” Push. “So you’re not.” Push. “Allowed.” Push. “To die!” Push. Push. Push.

I could hear Zoe sniffling behind me, see the broken look on Maddox’s face, and feel the defeat rolling off Quess.

“Liana,” Quess said, his voice a hesitant string of pain. “He’s…”

“He’s not gone,” I said between clenched teeth. “I’m not losing anyone else. We’ve already lost Cali, Roark, Ambrose, my mother… I’m not letting him die.”

To prove it, I balled my hand into a fist and slammed it down on his chest. Over and over again, trying to force his heart to pump, to draw blood from Grey, to—

Eric gasped so unexpectedly that I jerked my hands back and toppled over onto my butt. His eyes fluttered open and closed, and he began to cough.

“Quess!” I called, afraid that Eric was going to stop breathing again. But he was already there, fitting a filtration mask over Eric’s nose and mouth, holding the other man’s head still.

He looked up at me, eyes wide, even as Zoe wrapped her arms around me and began to cry.

“Don’t you stop working on him,” I muttered, but it was a plea more than anything. I wasn’t arrogant enough to assume that I had brought Eric back. I had just refused to quit—and it had paid off. Eric was still pale, and there was every chance in the world that he wouldn’t make it if Quess couldn’t figure out where the damage was and fix it quickly. But I had bought him some time.

I only prayed it would be enough.