In Death 08 - Conspiracy in Death

no order."
    "Why don't I tell you what I think of your procedure?" he began, stepping forward with blood in his eye.
    The door opened. He turned quickly, an arrow of shock piercing his heart when he saw her.
    She was pale as death. Her eyes seemed to be carved deep into the skull, the irises like gold glass, the pupils huge. Mira had a supporting arm around her, and still she swayed.
    "You're not ready to get up. Your system needs more time."
    "I want out of here." She would have shaken Mira off, but was seriously afraid she'd pitch forward onto her face. She saw Roarke first, felt twin surges of frustration and relief. "What are you doing here? I told you not to come."
    "Shut the hell up." There was only one emotion pumping through him, and it was all fury. He was across the room in three quick strides, and pulling her away from Mira. "What the hell did you do to her?"
    "What she was supposed to do." Eve made the effort to stand on her own feet, though it had the nausea swimming back, the clammy sweat popping out. She would not be sick again, she promised herself. She'd already been violently ill twice and would not be sick again.
    "She needs to lie down." Mira's face was nearly as pale as Eve's, and every line of strain showed. "Her system hasn't had time to recover. Please convince her to come back and lie down so I can monitor her vitals."
    "I have to get out of here." Eve looked straight into Roarke's eyes. "I can't stay here."
    "All right. We're going."
    She let herself lean against him until she saw Whitney. Then it was instinct as much as pride that had her forcing her aching body to attention. "Sir."
    "Dallas. I regret the necessity of this procedure. Dr. Mira needs to keep you under observation until she's satisfied you're well enough to leave."
    "With respect, Commander, I'm free to go where the hell I want."
    "Jack." Mira linked her fingers together, felt useless. "She took Level Three."
    His eyes flashed, shifted back to Eve's face. "Level Three was not necessary. Damn it, it was not necessary."
    "You took my badge," Eve said quietly. "It was necessary." She forced herself straight again, praying Roarke would understand she needed to walk out under her own power. She made it to the door before the trembling started again, but she shook her head fiercely when he turned.
    "No, don't, don't carry me. God, leave me something here."
    "All right, just hold on." He hooked an arm around her waist, took most of her weight. Bypassing the glide, he walked her to the elevator. "What's Level Three?"
    "Bad." Her head was pounding brutally. "Really bad. Don't hassle me. It was the only way."
    "For you," he murmured, drawing her into the crowded elevator when the doors whisked open.
    Her vision grayed at the edges. Voices from the people who jammed in with them drifted, echoed, and fell away like waves in an ocean. She lost her bearings, and herself, only dimly aware of movement, of Roarke's voice close to her ear telling her they were nearly there.
    "Okay, okay." The gray spread, closed in as he guided her to the visitor's parking area. "Mira said how this was just one of the side effects. No big deal."
    "What's one of the side effects?"
    "Shit, Roarke. Sorry. I'm gonna pass out."
    She never heard him curse as he swung her into his arms.

CHAPTER TWENTY
    She was out, unconscious or asleep, for four hours. She didn't remember getting home, being put to bed. Fortunately for all parties, she didn't remember Roarke calling in Summerset, or the butler using his medical training to examine her and prescribe rest.
    When she woke, the headache remained, but the sickness and the shakes had passed.
    "You can take a blocker."
    Still dim, she blinked her vision clear and stared at the little blue pill Roarke held out. "What?"
    "There's been enough time since your treatment for you to take a blocker. Swallow."
    "Not more drugs, Roarke, I -- "
    It was as far as she got before he squeezed her jaw, popped the pill in her mouth. "Swallow."
    Scowling, she did so, more out of reflex than obedience. "I'm okay. I'm fine."
    "Sure you are. Let's go dancing."
    She squirmed into a sitting position and dearly hoped her head would stay in its proper place on her shoulders. "Did anyone see me go down?"
    "No." The hand on her jaw gentled. "Your kick-ass rep is intact."
    "That's something, anyway. Man, I'm starving."
    "Not surprising. Mira said you'd probably lost everything you'd eaten in the last twenty-four hours. I called her," he added when