34
Spike didn’t want to open his eyes. This new gurney was like a cloud of cotton balls. And there wasn’t an ache anywhere in his body.
Was this heaven? Had that crumbling building taken him after all?
The steady beep of a vitals monitor rang in his ears—a sound he’d learned to hate over the past few weeks. A sound that meant he’d been moved to a new cell for medical care, only to be beaten again later.
Maybe he could play dead long enough to be taken off life support. There were worse ways to go. At least he was comfortable. The temperature in this cell was perfect. The crisp air free of the stifling humidity. And it smelled better. Like mint and citrus. Like … home.
He stretched out a hesitant hand, testing for the gurney’s edge. It reached across an infinite sea of softness. No
