In Death 11 - Judgment in Death

exhausted before, and carrying a cloak of despair. Now she stood with all three hovering around her and just stared at him.
    "Oh, Roarke."
    "I'm sorry." He moved to her, wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so sorry."
    "They don't think he's going to make it. That's not what they say, exactly, but you can read it on their faces. Massive blood loss, extreme internal damage. The knife nicked his heart, his lung, and God knows. They've called his family in, advised them to hurry."
    However selfish it was didn't matter to him. All he could think was, It could have been you. It could have been you, and I would be the one advised to hurry.
    "Come upstairs. You need to clean up and get some sleep."
    "Yeah, nothing more to do but get some sleep." She started toward the steps with him, then just sank down on them, buried her face in her hands. "What the hell was I thinking? Who the hell do I think I am? Mira's the shrink, not me. What made me think I could get inside this man's head and understand what was going on in it?"
    "Because you can, and you do. You can't always be right." He rubbed her back. "Tell me what he's thinking now."
    She shook her head, got to her feet. "I'm too tired. I'm too tired for this."
    She walked upstairs, stripping on her way across the bedroom. Before she could step into the shower, Roarke took her hand. "No, into the tub. You'll sleep better for it."
    He ran the water himself. Hot, because she liked it hot, added scent to soothe, programmed the jets to comfort. He undressed, got in with her, and drew her back against him.
    "He did it for me. Clooney was going for me, and Webster knocked me down and stepped into the knife."
    Roarke pressed his lips to the top of her head. "Then I owe him a debt I can never repay. But you can. By finishing it. And that's what you'll do."
    "Yeah, I'll finish it."
    "For now, rest"
    Fatigue was a weight bearing down on her. She stopped resisting and fell under it.
    She woke to sunlight and the scent of coffee. The first thing she saw was Roarke, with a mug of coffee in his hand.
    "How much would you pay for this?"
    "Name your price." She sat up, took it from him, drank gratefully. "This is one of my favorite parts of the marriage deal." She let the caffeine flow through her system. "I mean, the sex is pretty good, but the coffee... The coffee is amazing. And you're all-around handy yourself most of the time. Thanks."
    "Don't mention it."
    She took his hand before he could rise. "I wouldn't have slept easy last night without you being here." She gave his hand a squeeze, then shifted toward the bedside 'link. "I want to call and check on Webster."
    "I've already called." She wouldn't want it cushioned, so he told her exactly what he knew. "He made it through the night. They nearly lost him twice and took him back in for more surgery. He remains critical."
    "Okay." She set the coffee down to scrub her hands over her face. "Okay. He felt like he needed vindication. Let's give it to him."
    Purgatory had taken on an edge. Glamour with a bright smear of sin.
    "Fast repair work," Eve muttered as she wandered through, scanning the trio of winding, open stairs with their treads edged with hot red lights. On closer study, she noted the banisters that curved down them were sleek and sinuous snakes, and every few feet, one was swallowing its brother's tail.
    "Interesting."
    "Yes." Roarke ran one of his elegant hands over a reptilian head. "I thought so. And practical. Start up."
    "Why?"
    "Humor me."
    With a shrug, she climbed the first three. "So?"
    "Feeney? Do we register on weapon check?"
    "You bet. Scanner shows police-issue laser on staircase one, and secondary weapon in ankle harness."
    Eve glanced up toward Control, and the hidden speakers where Feeney's voice boomed. With a thin smile, she looked back at Roarke. "Why don't you come on up for a weapon scan, ace?"
    "I think not. Similar scanners are set in all entrances and exits, in the bathrooms, and privacy rooms. We'll know what we're up against in that area."
    "Boomers," she said, coming down again. "Knives?"
    "We can scan for explosives. Knives are trickier, though the metal detectors will take care of any fashioned from that material. An hour before opening, the entire building will be swept a final time, just as a precaution."
    "Where do you plan to hold the meet?"
    "We've divided the area into twenty-two sectors. Each will have individual security, and all will line to the main control. I'll have a privacy booth in