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For now, only one thought repeated in his mind.

Wynter.

He needed to know about his wife.

At the thought, Nick’s grip on Morley’s arm tightened. He forced himself to ease off when he saw a pained look come to the old man’s face. Morley winced from the insanely strong grip of Nick’s vampire hand up until the instant Nick let him go.

“Did you… contact anyone else?” Nick asked.

Morley looked away from the screaming man writhing on the floor a few yards from where the two of them were.

Turning back to Nick, he gave his friend a grim look.

“I did. I made a number of other calls, as a matter of fact.”

Seeing something on Nick’s face when he didn’t immediately go on, Morley gripped Nick’s arm in return, holding up a hand in reassurance.

“Hey, relax. Don’t worry, Midnight. Everyone’s fine. Knowing that lady you pal around with, they probably moved all of ‘em into a damned six-foot thick metal security vault by now. Ringed by dozens of hybrid and vampire guards. I was very careful to convey the proper amount of hysteria when I spoke to the big boss, especially.”

Archangel.

Morley meant St. Maarten.

Nick felt his shoulders relax, but only a little.

He slowly sat up.

Pain immediately rose violently behind his temples. It was intense enough to blur his vision, and to make him stop, closing his eyes until it began to ease.

He rubbed the bone with his fingers, glancing around the bamboo floor.

Jesus. He really was in the same room.

“Who else did you call?” Nick asked. “You said you made a few calls?”

“Kit,” Nick said promptly. “I called Charlie about Jordan. With all the time they’ve been spending together lately, I didn’t want her to hear it over the network. I called my neighbor to make sure she fed my dog. I called my sister to tell her I loved her––”

“Okay.” Nick snorted a laugh, hearing the humor there. “Okay, I get it. Thank you.”

“I also called that weird friend of yours,” Morley went on seriously. “That Jack Bird fellow. Who does the paintings. He sent a painting over for you.”

Nick gave Morley a warning look.

Then, suddenly conscious of eyes on the two of them, he glanced around at whoever might be listening nearby.

The humans all seemed oblivious, concentrated in whatever tasks they were performing around the room. Those tasks seemed to be broken into two categories: evidence collection and documentation of the crime scene, and providing medical assistance to homicide detective Damon Jordan.

A red-haired female vampire, presumably the new Midnight for the 17thPrecinct, sat hunched over the writhing form of Damon along with three humans. A number of blood bags hung on hooks over their part of the floor.

Nick could tell by the smell they were filled with human blood.

So they were still trying to bring him back.

They had been trying anyway, at some point.

The Midnight gave Nick a brief look, almost a questioning one, then averted her gaze. Her crystal, glass-like vampire eyes returned to the man sweating and writhing on a thick pad someone laid on the floor.

Nick winced when Jordan broke out in another wailing scream.