“Oliver, watch out!”
Oliver’s head snapped toward the closet as a gust of sawdust blew straight into the mist. A feral cry broke from Monroe’s lips as he reared back. Staggering to his feet, Oliver tried to push past him, but Jed lashed out with the knife. Pain and heat lanced across Oliver’s cheek followed by a sluice of blood. Letting out a hiss of pain, Oliver clamped his hand over the wound and turned to find Jed Monroe staring at a defiant Gwen. The world seemed to grind to a halt as Jed took a step toward her. The bone boxes rattled dangerously in the closet as Elizabeth Abbot and the anatomical skeleton behind Jed danced.
“Stay away from her. I’m the one you want,” Oliver yelled, holding out the bone saw with a shaking hand.
Jed’s reddened eyes dismissively traveled over the skeletons as he strode toward Oliver. “Two against one. I don’t mind those odds.”
A noise thundered behind Oliver, but he didn’t dare move. All he could see was the shine of the bloody bowie knife and feel the hot trickle of moisture dripping down his cheek and neck. The light around Jed shimmered but didn’t hold as he lurched forward. This would buy Gwen time to run, he told himself as he stood his ground. The gas jet squeaked shut on the bench an instant before the percolator flew and crashed into Jed. Drops of scalding coffee peppered Oliver’s hands and face as he leapt out of the way, but Jed got the brunt of it as he staggered back. The skin on his hand, cheek, and neck were red with blossoming burns as hot coffee seeped into his clothes. Letting out a primal roar, he dove at Oliver. The sound of the laboratory door slamming into the wall and Gwen yelling his name were drowned out by the retort of a gun and the spatter of blood hitting his face. Jed’s eyes widened with surprise as he twisted and fell, the knife clattering at Oliver’s feet.
The taste of gunpowder and burnt coffee drifted into Oliver’s mouth as he stared at Jed’s lifeless body. He should get up. He should see if anything could be done about Jed. He needed to make sure Gwen was okay. Before he could do anything, Felipe’s arms closed around him, blocking Jed’s body from view. Felipe whispered into Oliver’s hair and pushed his bloodied face against his shoulder. The gunshot echoed in his ears. Felipe. Felipe saved him.
Oliver shut his eyes and let himself be held. “You came for me.”
“Of course I did. Thank god for the tether. I was so scared I was too late.”
“Where’s Gwen?” Oliver asked, his voice eerily calm.
“I’m right here.”
Relief flooded Oliver’s chest as he turned his head enough to see Gwen standing near the bench, nervous but unbloodied. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, a little shaken up, but you’re bleeding... a lot.”
Felipe pulled him back and grimaced at Oliver’s face. “We need to get you to a doctor,” he said as he stuffed his handkerchief over the wound.
“I am a doctor. I just need to put pressure on it. What about Jed?”
Swallowing hard, Felipe held his gaze and shook his head. Blood rapidly soaked through the linen and dripped down Oliver’s face. As Felipe helped him to his feet, pounding footsteps echoed down the hall. Head Inspector Williams rushed in with Gale on his heels, hands haloed in fire. The head inspector looked from Oliver’s bloodied face to the wreckage of the coffee pot to Jed Monroe’s lifeless body.
“What in the seven hells happened? Is that Monroe?”
“He tried to kill Oliver and Miss Jones. I take full responsibility for his death.” Pulling the gun from its holster, Felipe held it out for the head inspector to take, but the other man waved it away. “I was coming to speak to Oliver when I heard Jed yelling and—”
“Broke down the door.”
“Yes, and found him about to stab Oliver.”
“Why the hell was he trying to kill Barlow?”
Fishing in his pocket for a second handkerchief to press over the bloodied one, Oliver added with his head tipped back, “Knew too much about the nun case. Was going to kill Felipe too, but he wasn’t here. Gwen was an innocent bystander. She was having coffee with me when he and Newman showed up.”
“What about Newman?”
“He’s gone,” Gwen said. “Left-gone. Not dead-gone.”
Gale hiked up their skirts and pushed past them to press their fingers to Jed’s neck. “What should we do with him? Dr. Barlow can’t exactly carry out an inquest.”
“This is a fucking mess. Apologies for my language, Miss Jones,” the head inspector grumbled but caught himself. “We don’t need an inquest; we know how he died. We’ll keep the body in the morgue until his family can collect him and we get everything settled. For now, the morgue is sealed off. Barlow, Gale will get your face sorted with one of the healers, then bring you to my office. Galvan and Miss Jones, come with me.”
Felipe looked like he wanted to protest, but Oliver shook his head. Their hands intertwined as they passed, parting with a brief, promising squeeze. When Oliver met Felipe’s gaze, he saw fear and something more. Something he hadn’t dared hope to see.
