Blood Debt

the bowl of broth on the bedside table. "The doctor says you've got to feed me."
    Deceptively gentle eyes narrowed. "Yeah, so?"
    "You're either going to have to turn up the TV and risk attracting attention, or miss the game. Either way, I win."
    "Maybe I just won't feed you."
    "And make the doctor angry?"
    That was clearly not going to happen. The bowl all but dwarfed in the curve of a huge hand, Sullivan grinned unpleasantly. "Open your mouth or I'll open it for you."
    Confronted with violent death day after day, police officers coped by either ignoring the inevitability of their own death or by thinking about it so constantly it lost its mystery and became a part of life, like breathing. Choking on broth, Celluci realized he'd never considered drowning in consomme as a serious possibility.
    He was still coughing and gasping for breath when Sullivan left the room, snarling, "You can piss later," as he slammed the door.
    Struggling to keep from vomiting—if he didn't choke on it and die, he'd have to lie in it, and the second option thrilled him as little as the first—he gradually regained control of his body. Panting, each breath a little deeper than the last, he swallowed hard to discourage one last spasm of gagging.
    When it was all over, he lay limp and exhausted, feeling like he'd just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. But he had a better idea of Sullivan's temperament.
    And he had a plan.
    Of sorts.
    "Find anything?"
    "Vicki, I'm a writer. I turn on my computer, I play a few games of solitaire, I answer my E-mail, and I write. Anything more complicated, I don't worry about." Frowning at the screen, Henry tapped his nails gently against the edge of the keyboard. "This is more complicated."
    Vicki glanced up from an aggressive search of the filing cabinet and peered across the room at the monitor. "Looks like point and click to me," she growled.
    "The whole thing's encrypted. I can't access anything without Dr.
    Mui's password."
    "I don't see why the paranoid bitch can't keep a rolodex like everyone else," Vicki snarled, slamming shut one drawer and opening another. All she wanted were a couple of addresses, preferably one marked this is where we're keeping Michael Celluci, but failing that she'd settle for this is where the people in charge live and you can rip the location of Michael Celluci out of them.
    With Vicki's anger beating against him in heated waves, Henry decided it would be safest not to respond—besides, she had a point, a rolodex would've been much simpler. I can't believe we're doing this.
    But it wasn't breaking into Dr. Mui's office that he was having difficulty with.
    As much as he shared Vicki's concern over the detective's safety, he found himself continually distracted by the circumstances. They were working together. Not, certainly, as they had before the change, but cooperating in close contact nevertheless. It was such an amazing experience that he desperately wanted to tell someone about it.
    Unfortunately, only two people could fully appreciate the ramifications
    —Vicki wasn't interested, and there wasn't much satisfaction in talking to himself.
    "There's nothing in this thing but patients' records. You getting anywhere?"
    He dragged his attention back to the task at hand. "Dr. Mui has a modem—could she get into those other systems from here?"
    "Back in Toronto, I could make six phone calls and get half a dozen people who could do it in their sleep. So the short answer is yes, but that doesn't help us… Ha!" Straightening, Vicki lifted a file folder out of the bottom drawer. "At least the government's still supporting the pulp and paper industry. According to the BC Department of Motor Vehicles, the good doctor just bought a new car. Must be nice." Her voice trailed off as she flipped through the legal documents. A few moments later, she shook her head and glanced up at Henry. "Did you know you two are neighbors?"
    She jerked toward him as he snatched the file from her hands but kept herself from snatching it back.
    "No, she's in the other tower, phase two. It just went on the market this spring, and it's pricey." Although it twisted muscles into knots, he managed to stop himself from grabbing Vicki's arm as she started toward the door. This wasn't the time to test the limits of their new boundaries. "Where are you going?"
    "We know where Dr. Mui is. Dr. Mui knows where Celluci is."
    There were now three points of light in the office, the monitor and Vicki's eyes. "He might