Chapter 2

The interior of the Maybach was a cocoon of leather and climate-controlled heat, but Kenzie felt like she was burning from the inside out. The shivering had returned with a vengeance, her tiny body convulsing against the soft cashmere blanket Devin had wrapped her in. Her skin felt tight, stretched over a furnace, yet her teeth wouldn't stop chattering.

Devin sat beside her, his posture rigid. He hadn't taken his eyes off her since they pulled out of the alley. He could hear the ragged, shallow breaths she took, and with every breath, the voice in his head grew fainter, more fragmented.

"So... hot..." The thought drifted into his mind, weak and disoriented. "Why is it so cold if I'm burning?"

Devin's jaw clenched. He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. It was like touching a stovetop. The fever was spiking dangerously fast.

"Drive faster," he ordered Arthur from the back seat.

The Maybach lurched forward, weaving through the Manhattan traffic. Thirty minutes later, they screeched to a halt under the bright white awning of a private hospital on the Upper East Side. Arthur was out in a second, pulling the door open.

Devin stepped out into the rain, holding the baby against his chest like a football. He strode through the sliding glass doors of the ER, his shoes slapping against the linoleum. The sterile smell of antiseptic hit Kenzie's nose, making her stomach heave.

"I need a pediatrician!" Devin's voice cut through the quiet hum of the emergency room, loud enough to make a nurse drop her clipboard. "Now!"

A doctor in rumpled blue scrubs looked up from the nurses' station. Desiree Dillon looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, her blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She grabbed a chart and walked over, her face set in a bored, annoyed expression.

"Sir, you can't just-" Desiree started, then caught sight of Devin's face. The sharp jawline, the expensive coat, the aura of pure, unadulterated wealth. Her demeanor shifted instantly. The annoyance vanished, replaced by a sickeningly sweet, professional smile. "Oh, Mr. Ayers. Of course. Bring her this way."

Kenzie forced her eyes open at the sound of that voice. The fever made everything swim, but the name tag on the blue scrubs was clear. Dr. D. Dillon.

A jolt of pure, undiluted terror shot through her, stronger than the fever. That voice. That face. A primal sense of danger, rooted in a pain so deep it had followed her across death itself, screamed at her to flee. She didn't know how the universe had brought them together again, but the cold, calculating glint in those blue eyes was a nightmare she recognized instantly.

The heart monitor clipped to Kenzie's toe suddenly screamed. The line on the screen spiked into a jagged peak, the rapid beeping filling the room.

"She's tachycardic," Desiree said, her voice smooth as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves. "Probably just a panic response to the fever. Let's get her settled."

Desiree leaned over the gurney, her face inches from Kenzie's. Kenzie stared into those eyes, pushing past her own fear, and reached out with her mind. The telepathy was erratic, fueled by adrenaline, but she caught it. The surface thoughts leaking from Desiree's brain like toxic sludge.

"Another screaming brat," Desiree was thinking as she turned her back to Devin. "Rich daddy probably just wants a quick fix so he can go back to his meeting. I'll just knock her out. Shut her up."

Desiree walked to the medication cabinet. She didn't even look at the dosage chart. She pulled out a vial of Diazepam and a syringe. She drew the liquid, her thumb pushing the plunger up. She didn't measure. She just filled it.

"Poison..." Kenzie's mind shrieked, the thought blasting into Devin's head like a jagged, broken siren, weak but desperate. "Too much... needle... DANGER! Stop her!"

Devin, who had been listening to the hospital administrator drone on about protocols, froze. The fragmented voice in his head was raw with a primal panic. He turned his head slowly, his eyes locking onto Desiree's back.

Desiree was humming softly. She pulled the syringe out of the vial and turned back to the gurney. The needle glinted under the harsh surgical lights. She didn't check the baby's weight. She didn't check the label again. She just reached for the IV port in Kenzie's arm.

"Lethal..." Kenzie screamed internally, her physical body paralyzed by the fever and terror, her mental transmission fracturing under the strain. "Overdose... she's trying to kill me!"

The chaotic burst of words echoed in Devin's skull, but the intent was crystal clear. His eyes narrowed to slits. He moved. He didn't walk; he closed the distance in two long, predatory strides, his shoes making no sound on the floor.

Desiree was smiling gently at the baby, the needle inches from the IV line. "There, there, little one. This will make it all go away."

Devin's hand shot out. His fingers closed around Desiree's wrist like a steel trap. The grip was brutal, crushing the delicate bones together.

Desiree gasped, her eyes going wide. The syringe shook in her trembling hand. She looked up at Devin, her face pale. "Mr. Ayers? What are you-"

"What are you doing?" Devin asked. His voice was barely above a whisper, but the menace in it made the temperature in the room drop ten degrees.

Desiree tried to twist her arm free, but his grip was iron. She forced a trembling smile. "I'm just administering a mild sedative, sir. Her heart rate is too high. It's standard procedure."

"Standard?" Kenzie thought, her mind a mix of rage and relief. "Zero point one milligrams per kilogram is standard, you psycho. That syringe has at least five milligrams in it!"

Devin's gaze flicked to the syringe. He didn't let go of Desiree's wrist. With his other hand, he plucked the syringe from her trembling fingers. He held it up to the overhead light.

The clear liquid sat at the 5mg mark. The evidence was irrefutable.

Devin's hand flicked. He threw Desiree backward. She stumbled, her back hitting the metal instrument tray with a deafening crash. Trays and scissors clattered to the floor.

The entire ER fell silent. Nurses froze. The administrator stopped mid-sentence.

Kenzie lay on the gurney, her heart still racing, but the panic was fading. She looked at Devin's broad back, at the rigid set of his shoulders. A sense of profound, unexpected safety washed over her.

"That was close," she thought, a weary satisfaction coloring her internal voice. "This guy is ruthless. I like him."

Devin heard the thought. The tight line of his shoulders eased just a fraction. He turned around, his cold expression softening for a split second as he looked at the tiny, feverish baby. He reached out and gathered her back into his arms, wrapping the blanket tight around her shivering body.