Chapter Three

"Bird flu," Ty repeated in disbelief as the medical examiner gave them the autopsy report. He held a white mask to his face, refusing to put the little elastic bands over his ears. "What the hell?"

ThewomannoddedandshruggedasshehandedSpecialAgentRoss the file. "‘What the hell' isnot myjob," she answered with asmall smile that showed inhereyes. Thewhitemaskshewore over hernose andfacecovered the rest of the expression.

"Isn'tbirdfluprettyrare?"Tyaskedherinamystified voice."How would he get it?"

"Well,morethantwohundredconfirmedcasesofhumaninfection withavianinfluenza Aviruses havebeenreported since2004," theME answered, sounding toTyasifshewererecitingfactsshe'djustrecently looked up.

Sheflippedherhairoverhershoulder andfrowned. "Thevirusisn't easilysustainedfromhuman-to-human transmission, butitcanmutatetobe highlycontagious.Still,"shewentonwithashakeofherhead,"themost likelysource would havebeenfrom handling dead birds thatwere infected. And,tomyknowledge, therehaven't beenanyreported casesintheTri-State area in at least three years."

"So . . ." Ty prodded as he leaned closer expectantly.

"Unless hewastraveling inEastAsiaortheMiddle East,Special Agent Grady, I don't believe he would have been able to contract itby natural means."

"He was intentionallyinfected,"Ross concludedwith a frown.

"How?" Zane demandedbefore the ME could even answer.

"I'dratherwaittogetthepreliminary reportsbeforespeculating too much," sheanswered hesitantly. "Buttheeasiest waytodoit—and safestfor the person who did it—wouldhave been an injection."

"How long would ittake for an injection like that to infect someone?" Special Agent Sears asked, looking up from her notes. Sears and Ross hoveredneartheexamtable.RossmerelyheldhismasktohisfacelikeTy didandlooked down atthebodyindistaste. Hehanded thefiletoZane absently without looking up.

"Incubation periodwouldbeaboutthesameasifhewereinfectedin moretypical ways," theMEanswered. "Icantellyouthatbirdfludoesnot havetobelethal.Mostcases,infact,iftreatedpromptly, there'safull recovery. That's pretty much the extent of my knowledge."

"So what you're saying is,either hedidn't know hewas sick, didn't carethathewassick,orwasn'tabletogettoadoctor?"Tyaskedwitha deeper frown.

"Pretty much," the woman nodded.

"Fortwoweeks?" Zane asked. "Werethere anysigns ofrestraint or struggle?"

"None,"sheansweredwithashakeofherhead."Isthereanything else?" she asked as Zane flipped open the folder and started reading. "I've got more in the morgue."

Zaneclosed thefileandlooked backupather."Thank you,Karen. I hopewewon'tbeseeing youagainwhilewe'restillbreathing," hesaid.She gave him a little laugh.

Tyrolled his eyes andlooked away. Sheshook their hands andwent back towork, andZane turned tolook atTy. "We need totalk tothecops. Number one,whydidn'ttheycallusfirst—before thedamnpressgotholdof it? And number two, see if they're having any luck connectingthe victims."

"That's theirjob,"Tyresponded pointedly ashenoddedhisheadat SearsandRoss.Theybothgavehimdisgusted looksasZaneglanced overat them and raised an expectant eyebrow.

"We'llgetrightonthat,"Searssaidtotheminannoyanceasshe jerked her head at her partner and they both stalked out of the room.

Tylookeddownatthebody,stillonthetableandcoveredmostlyby a sheet. "Bird flu," he murmuredin a slightly mystified voice.

Sighing, Zane tapped the file against his hand. "And another token."

"What is it this time?" Ty asked dejectedly.

"Ablackfeather," Zaneanswered withafrown. "It'sthefirstone that's made any sense when you consider the method of killing."

"Hmm,"Tyresponded distractedly, stillfrowningastheymadetheir wayoutofthemorgue. "Ineed . . . Ineedtogosomewhere andjustlook,"he finally said in frustration as he took his mask and tossed itinto anearby waste container.

Zanestopped andlooked athispartnerasheremoved hisownmask, tilting his head. "Where do you want to go? Crime scene?"

Tyshookhishead."Somewhere empty,"heanswered withawince. "Maybetheyhaveameetingroomatthefieldofficewithawhiteboardwe can use," he suggested.

"There areclassrooms atFederal Plaza.Mosttimesthey're empty, if there'snotateamintraining," Zaneoffered."Henninger toldmeaboutthem last night."

"Oh, yeah? What else did the kid tell you?" Ty asked sarcastically.

"He suggested putting you out of your misery," Zane answered pleasantly.

"Your gun ain't big enough, son," Ty drawled with a smirk.

"At the risk of sounding clichéd, I've never had that complaint before," Zane answered,turning to lead the way toward the car.

TyremainedwherehewasandtiltedhisheadtowatchZaneashe walked down thehall."I'llbelieve thatwhen Iseeit,"hescoffed finally, smirking as he followed.

"SomehowIjustdon'tbelieveyou'reremotelyseriousaboutthat," Zane replied without looking back or breaking stride.

"Your loss,Brutus," Tylaughed astheycameuptotheelevators and he punched the button.

Zane's brow furrowed. "Brutus?" he asked. "As in Brutus and Cassius?"

"Sure, man, if you say so," Ty laughed.

Rollinghiseyes,Zanegotontheelevatoroncethedooropened. "Youknow,atfirstIwasinsultedbythewayyoutreatme.ThenIrealized it'snotpersonal;youtreateveryonelikeshit.Ifinditdoesn'tbothermeall too much anymore," he said.

"Usually Ionly don't bother people Iwant tosee naked," Tytold him seriously as the elevator rose. "So stop it. You're freaking me out."

Zanewatched hispartner curiously asseveral people filedintothe elevator fromthehallway. "I'llkeepitinmind,"hesaidunderhisbreathas theywalked out.Theslightlysuggestive tonesofTy'swordsfreaked himout too.

The walk and drive tothe office were quiet, and hismind wandered backtothecase.Theymadeitintotheofficeandsecured oneoftheempty classrooms withaminimum offuss,mainlybecauseTydidn'trequestone—he just took one over.

"Okay," Tygrunted assoonastheyhadsettled in."So,what dowe know about thelatestvictim?" heasked ashethunked thestack ofpaperwork down onthetable inthemiddle oftheroom andwent tothewallwhere a whiteboard wasboltedup.Hegrabbedthedry-erasemarkerandbegan scribbling thenamesofthevictims."Thenewvictim," hestarted."Prison tat on his arm was pretty clear, so he's not squeaky clean."

"Filesayshewasparoledtwoyearsago.Cleanrecordsincethen," Zane said.

"Uh-huh," Tymutteredashebeganwriting inthephysical characteristics of each victim, excluding the two FBI agents. Age, race, height, weight, haircolor, eyecolor."Well," hesaidashestepped backand cocked his head. "They'reall Caucasian?"he offered weakly.

"Actually,no,thestockbrokerwasbiracialandtheroommatewas Latino."

"Goddamn it,"Tycussedashemadethecorrections."They'retoo random toberandom,"hemuttered, neithernoticing norcaringthatthe statement would make little sense outside of his own mind.

Zane raised hisbrow. "Didn't Isaythat yesterday?" heasked, forcing himself to be patient. Somehow.

"You say that like you think I listen to you," Ty respondedinstantly, a smile pulling at his lips.

Zanesnorted inirritation, scooted hischairback,andcrossed hislegs restlessly.

"Maybeit'snotthevictimsatall,"Tywentonashesatontheedge of the table. "Maybe they're just wrong place, wrong time."

"Possibly," Zaneallowed. "Butwhat'sbeendonetothemisvery specific."

"Mm-hmm,"Tynodded. "Sothat'swherewelookforthetrigger. Either the way the scenes are staged or the method of killing."

Zane nodded slowly. "Yes, I think so."

"Idon'twanta goddamnedyes-manfora partner,damnit," Ty snapped.

"Stuff the attitude, asshole," Zane snarled.

Ty turned his head to look back atZane and grinned. "Better," he said approvingly.

Zaneclosed hiseyesforamoment andthenlooked upattheceiling, shook hishead, andforced himself totakeadeepbreath before looking back down at the papers.

Tycontinuedtowatchhim,narrowinghiseyesashedidso."You should dothatmore often," hetold him. "Letgoand tellsomeone tofuck off, I mean. Makes you look less like you're about to have a coronary."

"Idon'tlooklikeI'mgoingtohavea coronary,"Zaneobjected stiffly.

"Sure,youdon't,"Tyrespondedplacatingly."Haveyouhadyour blood pressure checked lately?"

Zanenarrowedhiseyes."Notrecently.AreyouinsinuatingIought to?"

Ty shrugged noncommittally and smiled crookedly. "That or unclenchyour ass a little."

"Gee,thanks," Zanemuttered. "Anyotheradviceyouwantto bestow?"

"Justsomefriendlycounsel,"Tyshruggedasheturnedtolookback at the white-board.

Zanewatchedhisback,wondering whytheconversation hadturned semiserious.He didn't like it. "What do you care?"

Tylooked downandtothesideslightly, notmoving otherwise ashe watched Zane in the periphery of his vision. "What makes you think Ido, Hot Shot?" he countered in amusement.

"I'mthinkinga‘fuckoff'wouldfitreallywellaboutnow,so,fuck off."

"Whydoesitbotheryousomuch?"Tyaskedinamusementashe turnedslightlyandlookedathispartner."WhatdoyoucarewhatIsayor do?"

"Ialreadytoldyou,Idon'tdoviolins. Sobacktoyourwhiteboard," Zanesaidcrankily. Hewasn't goingtoopenhimself upformorecriticism. "I don'tcareifyouinsultme,"heclaimed, lookinglikehe'dbitintosomething sour.

Ty grinned widely and turned back around. He enjoyed irritating Zane more than hehadothers inthepast. Hewasn't sure why, but hedid."They never ran acheck of the phone callsmade to and from Sanchez's hotel room," he said abruptly. "We should look into that."

"Reilly and Sanchez's,"Zane muttered, not feeling all that charitable.

"Hmm?" Ty asked distractedly.

"Theysharedaroom,"Zanereminded."Theywerepartners.There were two of them?"

Tystared attheman foramoment andthen curled hislipbefore lookingbackattheboard."Whatever,"hefinallygrunted."I'dalsoliketo lookattheirbelongings," hesaidafteramoment."Maybetherewasatoken left and the investigatorsjust didn't recognizeit. Might give us something."

Zane'sbrowfurrowed. "Theydidn'trecognize it,butyouthinkyou will?" he inquired with a small sneer.

"You never know," Ty answered vaguely.

Zaneshruggedandmadeanote."Asgoodasanythingelsewe've got." Heslidhisfinger down another column ofnotes. Hesighed quietly, tryingtoremember whathe'dbeenreading thenightbefore."WhyamInot seeing lab reports for skin and nail scrapings?"

Tylooked up with afrown, then back down atthe report in his hands. "I don't know," he said as he picked up another and paged through it."Maybe they're not in yet?" he suggesteddoubtfully.

"It'sbeenalmost twoweeks," Zanesaidashecontinued toflip through sheets. "Theyshould havebeen inwithalltheotherlabwork." He pushedoutofthechair."I'mgoingovertothelab.Maybethey'rejuststuck in with the ME's notes. You want to come?"

Tygroaned slightly. "Notreally," heanswered honestly ashelooked back up at the board.

"Ithinkyou'retakingthisineptandlazyobjectivealittletoofar," Zane complained.

"Shut the fuck up," Ty murmuredwith a serious glance up at Zane. Zanemethisgazeforalongmomentbeforeturninghisbackand walkingoutoftheroom.He'dhitanerveofsomekind,andZanewasn't about togopoking aRecon Marine. Notwithout atleasttwogunsinhand. Storing thetidbitaway, heheaded downthequietcorridor, andhisfootsteps echoed on the worn floor.

When heentered therecords room offthelab,there wasnooneatthe desk, soheleaned over it,calling out ahello. He heard movement back inthe stacks offiles,butdidn't seeanyone. Heskirted around thedeskandpeered into the well-lit recess, but there was no one there.

"CanIhelpyouwithsomething, SpecialAgentGarrett?"Henninger askedfrombehindZanewithatingeofamusementinhislowvoice.Zane glancedoverhisshoulder,concealingasmalljoltofsurprise.Theyoung agent leaned against the desk Zane had just passed, seemingly having appearedoutofnowhere."It'slunchbreak.Noonedownhere,"hesaid softly.

Zanerecovered from hissurprise quicklyandgavetheyoungagenta smallsmile."Ifyoudon'tmindmyinterrupting whatever you'redoingfora bit, maybe you can help me find some records?"

"What are you looking for?" Henninger asked as he gestured for Zane to follow him.

"Some of the medical examiner files from the third and fourth victims, about twoweeksago.There would havebeenroutine skinandnail scrapingsandhairclippings,thatsortofthing.They'renotintheresource file," Zane explained.

"Thirdandfourth,"Henningerrepliedwithanod."Thosewerethe girls with the dyed hair, right?" he asked Zane.

"Yeah," Zaneanswered astheywalked between thestacks."Where's yourpartner?" heaskedcuriously. Hehadn'tseenMorrison sinceyesterday afternoon.

"Taking alonglunch,"Henninger answered haltingly. "Girlfriend thing," he explainedwith a glance back at Zane.

Zane'slipscurledslightly.Henninger wasobviouslycovering forhis partner.That,atleast,wasadmirableinaway.Itmadehimwonderwhatit would be like to actually like his own partner enoughto even consider coveringhisindiscretions. "Here'sthefilenumber,"heoffered,politely leaving off the questions as he handed Henninger a piece of notepaper.

"You've alreadygotthefile,though, right?Thehardcopy?" Henninger asked."I'lllookituponthecomputer, seeifthesheetsgot misplaced," heofferedasheturneddownalongrowofshelvesandtowarda nookinthesideoftheroomthathousedthreecomputers.TheFBIlogo turned lazily on two of the screens, while the third sat black and dormant.

"Yeah, Ichecked thehardcopyoutwiththeothers lastnight," Zane said, flipping through the file of his own notes he'd brought with him.

Henninger satdownatthecomputer onthefarleftandbegantapping at the keys rapidly, entering his badge number and pass code and then steering through a number of pages as he tried to locate the correct file. They navigated theelectronic stacksunsuccessfully forsometimebeforetherewas a sudden pop and a hiss from the machine that was sitting dark.

Zane glanced overatitwithaflinch asitpopped again, andwithout anyotherwarning thecomputer andmonitor exploded inablastofglass, metal, and singed plastic.

Henningercriedoutandcoveredhisface,duckingawayfromthe mini-explosionandthumpingtothegroundtocoverhisheadasthemuted sound and crack ofshattering glass bounced hollowly through the large room. Zane was less fortunate. He only had timeto turn his back and take half astep away,cursing abluestreakasglass,plastic,andheatedairwhooshed toward himtoslamintohisback,debriscuttingthroughhisjacket,shirt,andskin. Theheatmadehim stumble forward, andhefellroughly tohiskneesintothe glass and metal shards that littered the floor as pain seared through him.

Thecomputer—or whatwasleftofit—sizzledangrilyinthealcove. Therewerenosprinklers inthestackstoputoutthesmallfiretheexplosion caused. Inthehallwaytherewasshouting andrunning feet;agents coming to investigateand give aid.

Zane groaned and reached up to touch the back of his neck. It feltlike ithadbeencuttopieces,andthatfeelingwasprettymuchconfirmed ashis handcameawaybloody. "Goddamn it," hehissed.Atleasthestillhadonhis thick canvas jacket. It had probably saved him from being seriously sliced up.

Thecrunch ofheavyfeetonglasswarned Zanethatsomeone was walking up behind him, slowly and calmly through the chaos.

"You touch my back and I will beat the fucking hell out of you," Zane growled towhoever itwas.Hecouldfeeltheglassmoving withhisjacket, some of it through the canvas and into him. Ouch. Ouch.

"Don'tmove,"Tymurmured inhisearasagentlehandcametorest on the back of Zane's head.

Zane hissed ateven that light touch. The exposed skin was inlaid with glassfragmentsandstartingtowellwithbloodthattrailedinrivuletsdown into his collar.

"Whatthehellhappened?"Tyaskedasmorefootstepspoundedon theconcrete floor."Callanambulance!" hebarked atthefirstmenwhocame in. They scrambledto do so.

"Computer blewthefuckup.Where's Henninger? Hewassitting here . . ." Zane tried to push off his hands to sit back on his heels.

"Isaiddon't fucking move," Tyhissed angrily asheheldZane down and looked around. "Kid's moving; he's all right."

Trying tostay inone spot, Zane sethishand back down onthefloor litteredwithdebris."Monitorwasdarkwhenwecamein,"hesaid."The others had screensavers."He flinched as he felt the blood run from the back of his neck over and around to drip down the curve of his throat.

Tyfrowned ashelistened, reaching downandplucking bitsofglass outofZane's jacket."Nowaywhoever setitcouldhaveknown whenit'dbe used,"heanswered, pickingbitsofglassoutofthejacketlikeachimp grooming its mate. "We need to move."

ZanewincedasTyfreedaparticularly jagged chunkofglass."You think someone did this on purpose?"

"No,Ithinkeveryone likestorandomly blowshitup,"Tyanswered sarcastically."Where else are you hurt? Anything internal?"

"Where else?Youdon'tseeenough?" Zaneaskedsharply. Hetooka slow,deepbreathdespitetheprickling pain."Nothing inside.Myneck.Feels likeI'vebeen hitwithneedles allovermyback anddown mylegstoo.I'm bleeding underthejacket." Hecouldfeelthewarm oozespreading and wending down to his waistline.

"Oh,yeah?"Tyaskedasheliftedthejacketgentlyandpeeredunder it.Thejacketitselfwasruined,butitlookedlikealotofthesmallerpieces had been stuck init.Itwas just thelarge,mean pieces that hadmade itinto skin. "You'll live," he declared in a careless voice.

Zane'slanguagedegeneratedashemutteredtohimself."Damnit,I want a cigarette."

"Shit'll killyou,"Tychastised, tryingtokeeptheconcern outofhis voice as he bent to help Zane to his feet.

Zanegrimacedashismusclesflexedinstinctively andpainshot through him. He hissed as an agent scooted past, jostling him and making him arch his back to keep his balance.

"Come on,"Tymuttered ashereached under Zane's arms tolifthim. Hehadassuredhimselfthatnoarterieshadbeennicked,andnowhewanted to get the hell out of there.

Zaneclimbedawkwardly tohisfeet,tryingnottoshifttooquickly. Oncehestood, agoodamount oftheglassandplastic dropped tothefloor, leaving only the pieces that were embedded too deeply tofallout. He kept his headbowed.Straighteninghisneckfeltlikeitpushedthetinyglassbitsin deeper.

"There," Tysaidwithapleasedsmileasheplucked onelastlarger glass fragment outoftheback ofZane's neck. "Walk itoff,man," he suggested with asmirk ashe began leading him bythe elbow out of the chaos of the stacks and toward the hallway.

"Bastard," Zane hissed. He admitted, silently, that this was practically nothingcomparedtothelasttimehe'dbeencaughtbyanexplosion.Itwas justtheshockofithappening thathadthrownhim.Andithurtlikeabitch. "You'd probably say that if I lost a leg."

"Nah,"Tyscoffedastheygotoutintothehall.Helookedleftand right, then moved Zane tothefarwall,outoftheway ofthepeople scurrying by, and stepped behind him, running his fingers gently through the back of his partner'shairandremovinglooseglasspieces."I'dprobablysayhopitoff," he corrected with a barely restrainedsnicker.

Zanedidn'teventrytoholdbackthesnort,hiseyesfluttering shut as hefeltTy'sfingers brush hisscalp gently. "That's agood one," headmitted wryly, moving his arm and dripping blood onto the carpet.

"Quitit,"TychastisedwithanotherbrushthroughZane'shairand anotherglassshardremoved."YouwannawaitfortheEMTcrewtoget here?" he asked. "Or do you want me back atthe hotel with apair of tweezers andsomeperoxide sowecanavoidthepossibility ofbeing yankedoffthis case?"

"Throwinashowerwiththelastbitandyou'vegotadeal.Ihate EMTs. ‘Breathe evenly, Special AgentGarrett.' ‘Don't move, Special Agent Garrett.' ‘Don't worry, Special Agent Garrett, it only feels like we're removingyour arm with a dull hacksaw.'"

"Shake aleg then, Special Agent Garrett, before they see you covered inblood anddetain you,"Tysaidashetook Zane's elbow andbegan pulling himdownthehallwaytowardtheelevator. Thesentiment gaveZaneenough motivationtomove,despitethepainfulpricklingandsharpjabs,andthey madeitbeforeanymedicalpersonnelmadeanappearanceonthescene.As theelevator doors closed, Zanesethishandagainst thewalltoleanagainst it andhissed instead, jerking backhishand topickatapiece oftwisted plastic embedded in his palm.

Tymerelywatchedsilently, inwardly wincing insympathy. "Atleast you had your back to it," he offered finally.

"Reflex," Zaneanswered. "Iactuallyhadmysidetoit."Heliftedhis hand to his mouth as atrickle of blood seeped from theabused skin just under the curve of his chin.

"Eh. Ass, face, same difference,"Ty muttered with a shrug.

Zane'sgoodhandflashedoutandsmacked Tyupsidethebackofthe head.

"Ow!Whatthehell?"Tycriedasherubbedhisheadandhuffed. "You're lucky I repress the Instakill for you," he muttered.

Zane sniffed and pried atapiece ofglass inthe heel ofhis hand. "My lucky streak is about played out."

"Want a little cheese with that whine, maestro?"Ty drawled.

"Never mind," Zanereplied tightly, notevenwanting tothinkabout wine.Thepainwasworsemoving,andhewasnotlookingforwardtositting in the car. "Let's just get to the hotel. I feel like a pincushion."

"Look likeonetoo,"Tyobserved drylyastheelevator doorsopened. "After you, OhInjured One,"Tyinvitedwithasweeping gesture ofhishand. "Wantmetocommandeeravan?"heaskedwithabitofgleefulanticipation in his voice.

Zane looked at Ty sideways. "Why do you have that ‘I'm up to something ever-so-wrong' sound in your voice?" he asked suspiciously as they got outside and approached the car.

"Idon't,"Tyanswereddefensively."Don'tbleedontheseats,"he addedwithahuffasheslidintothedriver's seat."God,Ihatedriving inthe city," he muttered under his breath.

Closing hiseyesashesatcarefully andfeltglass chunks digintothe backs of his thighs, Zane's face went very stillas he gritted his teeth. "I'm not wearing thedamnseatbelt,"hesaidashegripped thedoorhandle tokeep himself from leaning back.

"You could try not sitting on the parts that got hit," Ty suggested.

"Just get us out of here."

"You got it." Ty grinned as he tore out of the parking place and out of theparking deckinrecord time. Hehitthelights astheygottothestreet. "I love the flashy blue lights," he told Zane almost gleefully.

Groaning, Zane braced one hand on the seat behind him. Despite Ty's reckless driving, they got to the hotel quickly and in one piece without leaving carnage behind, sohedidn't sayasingleword. Bythetimetheygotupstairs, Zane seriously wanted several stiff drinks. Hell. A bottle.

"Strip,"Tyorderedassoonasthedoorwasclosed."Andfacedown on the bed," he added as he took off his jacket and tossed itonto theback of a chair, then began rolling up his sleeves.

Zanewalkedovertothecorneroftheroomandcarefullyshrugged outofthejacket,seeing glasschunks scatter onthecarpet ashedropped it. Instead oftrying topull theholster off,hepulled atthestraps tototally unfasten it,andhecarefully setitandthegunonthestacks offilescovering the small round table. Itwas followed by the sheaths, but for one knife that he pulled and used tohandily sliceopen hisHenley from collar towaist, not willing totrypulling itover hishead. Theback oftheshirt wasmatted with blood,andheletitdroptoo,hissingasthefabricpulleddebrisfragments loose as he peeled it off.

Heunfastened hisjeansandshovedthemoverhishipswithanother hiss,leaving hislegsmostlyfreeofglass.Hetoedoutofhisshoes andsocks, leaving them under thejeans,andstepped freetothefootofthebed.He crawled ontothemattress innothing buthisboxer briefs andsettled onhis belly with several winces.

Tywatchedhimwithafurrowedbrow,hisfaceunreadableashis eyesfollowed thebitsofbloody clothing tothefloor.Hesnapped openhis KA-BAR folding knife with a distinctive metallic clink as he stepped closer to the bed.

Pressinghislipstogetherhard,Zaneclosedhiseyes.Itoccurredto himthathejustmight need tobeworried, buthemadehimself dismiss the thought. Hewasn't allthatsurehetrusted Ty,buthedidtrusthimenough to thinkhewouldn't maimorkillhim,giventhechance. Gradyhadalreadyhad those chances.

Tykneltonthebedbesidehim,surprisingly gentleashetriednotto jostle Zane too much, and he leaned to his side, putting his head beside Zane's eartogetabetterlookattheglassfragments. "Going tohavetodigforsome of'em,"hetoldZanewiththatsamegleefullyanticipatorytoneofvoicehe had used earlier.

"Goon,"Zanemurmured tightly, notmoving. Itwouldhurtlikehell, butitallhadtocomeout.Atleastthedamage wouldn't require surgerythis time.HewouldhavesighedatTy'sseemingenjoyment,butitwouldhave required him to move.

Tydidn't touch him for several moments, just hovered next to him on thebedpeering overthewounds quietly. Finally, hemoved, therustleofhis clothing andtheslight dipinthebed the onlyindication thathewaseven still there. A moment later cold steel touched the skin of Zane's nape. Once, twice, threetimesinrapidsuccession, merelybrushing overtheskinasifTywere touching thesideofthebladetohisskinexperimentally andthenraisingit again.Themovementwasrepeatedseveralmoretimes,theonlysounda swishofcottonandthetinkleofglassshardsbeingdeposited intoTy'shand after every three or four flicks of the knife.

Zane's eyes squeezed shut and his fingers curled in the bedspread, but otherwisehedidn'tmoveormakeasound.Hewasbreathingshallowlyto keephisbackstill,andhethought afterthisagood, angry fitwas inorder. Some of the glass feltlike pins being removed as Ty scraped, just littlepricks. Other times he felt the knife cut in, and his breathingstilled as he felt the glass pry loose, leaving a tiny gouge behind.

"When I was in the service they had us testing this stuff," Ty told him inaconversational mannerashesawthemusclesinZane'sbackbunchwith tension. "Itwascalled Dragon SkinBodyArmor. Theywanted ustoseehow faritcouldgo,youknow, before itwould givein.Putitthrough thewringer. Andsincewewerethesecrazy-ass Reconboyswithabitofareputation for destroying government property,theyfiguredwe'dbeperfecttodoit.Well, we took that shit everywhere with us. Threw it out of planes, planted landminesunderit,tossedgrenadesatit,ranoveritwithaHumvee.My buddy andIeven setituponthispoleonce andlaunched aground-to-air missileatit.God,thatwasfunnyashell,"hemusedwithobviousfondness.

"Only damage weeverdidtoitwastearthecover fabric," hetoldZane ina tone that could have been respect. "But the Bureau don't allow it.You tellme why that is, hmm?"

"Because they don't want us to turn into pansy asses?"

"Natural selection, maybe,"Tyresponded withasnicker. "Youain't smart enough to run away from the grenade, you get weeded out."

Zanechuckled andwinced. "Fuck, don'tmakemelaugh,"he practically begged.

"Holdstill,"TywarnedwithahandpressedtothebackofZane's head.Helaughedsuddenly,nearlysnortingashesaid,"I'vehaddateslike this."

"Christ. Now,hedevelops asenseofhumor," Zanecomplained. "Pleaseleavesomeskinintact?I'llneedittomatchtheotherscarsback there."

"Icouldjustconnectthemall,"Tyrespondedwithabrushofhis fingeroverthemessofthinwhitescarscoveredwithblood.Hedidn'task whathadhappened. Forsomeone whohadseencombat, wounds fromacar bomborsomething similarwerefairlyobvious. Whathedidwanttoaskwas howZanewouldcomebysuchmementos. Herefrained, though. Mainly because he didn't really care all that much.

"I'dlooklikeaspiderweb,"Zanesaid,muscles shifting underTy's fingertips.

"We'lljustcallyouSpider-Man,"Tyofferedwithasmirk."Idon't knowenoughabouthimto makejokes,"headdedwithsincere disappointment.

Zanesnortedandthemusclesinhisbackinvoluntarily clenchedand shifted, catching against theknife. Tyjerkedtheknifebackandimmediately whapped Zaneontheheadformoving. "Shit," hehuffed asbloodwelled where his knife had cut into Zane's skin. "Asshole.That ain't my fault."

"Getbacktowork," Zane ordered curtly. "Ineedtobleed some more before I can have my afternoonbender."

"Yeah,I'vedefinitely haddateslikethis,"Tyresponded withasmall smirk.

""Youmeanyouactuallydate?Youmustpicksomerealwinners.I need to meet one of them," Zane said with obvious snark in his voice. "Good luck with that," Ty answered sarcastically.

"Damn," Zanemuttered, setting hischinback onhiscrossed hands. Thenheshifteduncomfortably."There'sachunkbelowmyrightshoulder blade."

"I know," Ty responded testily. "Stop moving," he cautioned again as hepressed hishand down onthebackofZane's head. Zanestilled, butthe smile still pulled at the corners of his mouth between grimaces. Ty had to lean closer,bracinghisfreehandonZane'sothersideashepeeredacrossthe planeofZane'sback."Thatmightbemetal,"heobservedinadetachedsort of manner. "It's gonna hurt like a bitch."

"Lovely," Zanesaiddrolly,curling hisfingersintothebedspread and laying his forehead against his wrists. "Glad I've had my tetanus shot."

"I know you can't drink, but what about some painkillers?" Tyoffered.

Zane pressed his lips together. "I don't take them," he said quietly.

"Okay," Ty said with a nod. "So ... want a stick to bite?" he offered.

"Is it gonna be that bad?"

"Idon'tknow,"Tyanswered honestly. Heshookhisheadandfinally just gripped the piece of jagged plastic-coveredmetal and yanked it.

Thepain wassosudden andsharp that Zane didn't even gettoinhale beforeitstreakedthroughhim.Hisneckandbackwentrigidandhisface wentwhite,andbythetimehegaspedabreathinhewasunabletodo anything butjustliethere,trembling. Afterseveral heartbeats hespoke, voice low, clipped, and heartfelt. "Fuck."

"Yeah, it'sgonnahurt,"Tymurmured asheputhishandontheback ofZane'sheadagainandresteditthere."That'sall,"hesaidwithalittlepat of his hand.

ThemusclesinZane'sbackslowlystartedtoflexashecautiously movedtocheckforwhathecouldfeel."Thanks,"hesaidquietly,ashe started to push himself up.

"Why don't you just stay down?" Ty suggested seriously.

ZaneturnedhischintolookatTy,studyinghisfaceandnotseeing anysignofteasingordisgust. Hesighed, letting hisshoulders slumpandhis maskcrack.Thepainandexhaustion showedmorefullyuponhisfaceashe lowered himself backdown ontothebed,stillmoving verycautiously and stiffly. What abitch ofaday, and itwas onlyhalf over. He shifted his eyes to Ty,buthedidn'thaveanythingelsetosaytotheman.Hedidn'twantto insultorteaserightnow,andthatwasabouttheextentoftheirrelationship, besides having the same employer.

Tynoddedinsatisfaction andheftedhimselfupfromthebed."I'm goingtocleansomeofthatoff,okay?Gottogogetsomethingsfrommy room; I'll be right back."

"I'llbehere,"Zanemurmured, notdrollatall.Hispatience, his energy,andhispainthresholdwerealltapped.Ifhe'dlethimselfjokeabout it,itmight help, buthedidn't want toletgoofwhat littlereserve anddignity he had left.

"Don't move," Ty ordered yet again as he headed for the door. He left the room with the latch pulled sohecould get back in,and hejogged down to his room and moved as quickly as he could to gather his small medical kit, not evenbothering withthelights. Afterabriefglancearound thedarkroom he realized that something feltoff. The curtains were drawn and there was barely anylightforhimtosee.ThestenchofZane'sbloodonhishandsandshirt wasbeginningtohithim;hehadn'tstoppedtowashitoff.Thehaironthe backofhisneckbegan torise,andhegathered hisbagsandlefttheroomas quickly as possible, promising himself he'd come back to investigate when he hadn't left his partner helpless and injured in an unlocked room.

WhenhegotbacktoZane'sroom,hispulsewasalittlehigherthan hewould haveliked.Zanehadn't moved. He was stillsprawled onthebedonhis belly,cheekpillowedononehand,theothercurledinthebedspreadashe breathed carefully. Hiseyesopened andlooked rightatthedoorwhenTy entered, and then he relaxed again.

"How yadoin'?" Tyasked in aslightly tense voice. He wondered ifit wassomethinglegitimate thathadcausedhisalarmorifhehadjustbeenon theedgefortoolongandwasfinallylosinghisgrip.Finallyhedecidedthat he was just tense. And not willing to leave Zane alone in this state.

Zane tried toshift slightly, but stopped abruptly with awince. "Fine," heansweredquietly,staringatthewallashetriedtopulltogetherenough strength togetupandgetintheshower assoonasTywasdonecleaning him up."Onceyou'redone,I'llhopintheshowersowecangetbacktoit,"he said.Hefigured Tywould bechomping atthebitsoon,ifhewasn't already, and Zane really, really didn't want to give the man another reason to razz him.

"I'd say you've earned the day off," Ty replied as he came closer.

"Day off?"Zaneechoedinsurprise,craninghisheadtolookatTy and flinchingas his neck pinched.

"Someone triedtomaimyoutoday,Zane,"Tyresponded evenly. "Probably me too, but they didn't know how lazy I am. That someone, in case it'sgoneunderyourradar,hasaccesstorestricted Bureau areasinafederal buildingandwascloseenoughtoknowwhentodetonatethatbomb.We prettymuchconfirmed Burnsie's suspicions. I'mthinking spontaneously exploding federal property is a long way toward proof that this guy is a Fed."

Zanesethisforeheadbackagainstthepillow,straighteninghisneck torelievetheslicingache.He'dnoticedTyhadcalledhimbyhisfirstname. Itsounded oddcoming from his new partner. He sighed softly. "So itreally is one of us," he said sadly.

"Atleastheisn'ttryingtokillus,yet,"Tymutteredandfrownedas heglanced overZane's nearlynude,bloodybodyworriedly. "Unlessyou'd been sitting on the damn thing, ablast that small wouldn't kill you. Itwas just enough totakeyouoffthecase."Hecontinued tostareatthemanforalong, thoughtfulmoment.Withasigh,hedecidedtogoalloutandtreatZanelike the partner he was going to have to be. For aminute, atleast. "My room made me nervous," he admitted.

Zaneshiftedhischin,andhisslightlynarrowed eyestracked overto Ty."Thinksomeonewasinthere?"heasked.ZaneknewTywouldn'tsay somethinglikethatunlessitwasforreal.Onegoodthingaboutallthattrash he talked was that you knew when he was serious.

"CouldhavebeenHousekeeping,"Tyhedgedwithashrug."Could havebeenmebeingparanoid 'causeI'mfuckingcoveredinyourblood.I didn'tseeanythingoutofplace.Just...feltit.Probablynothing.ButI'm going to sleep here tonight, if you have no objections."

Zanedidn'treplyimmediately. Afterashortpausehespokequietly. "I'll warn you, I'm going to be grouchy as my back really starts hurting."

"AndI'llbeonthelookout forthat majorchange ofattitude," Ty respondedsarcastically.

Zanerolledhiseyesandquashedtheimpulsetorespondinkind. "You probably oughttoputstuffonmyback aftertheshower instead of before," he said regretfully instead, shifting slowly to climb to his knees.

"Do you need help?" Ty asked as he watched without moving.

Stoppingoncehewasonhisknees,Zanedrewashakybreathasthe abusedskinshiftedandstretched.Hecursedunderhisbreath."Isthereglass on the floor?" he asked. "I'd really rather not walk in it."

"Why don't you staythere, and I'll clean you off?" Tyanswered. "There's no reason for you to have to get up. The bed's already bloody."

ZaneturnedhisheadtostudyTy,wonderingwherethissolicitous sidehadcome from.Didhejustburyitunder somuch attitude thatyou couldn't normally notice?"I'm going totakeyouuponthatoffer,"he murmured,slowly shifting to stretch out sideways.

"Good."Tynoddedwithaslightsmirk."We'remakingprogress. Now you know I'm always right," hesaid over his shoulder asheheaded into the bathroomto spread out the contents of his medical kit.

Zanesighed. Heshould haveknown Tywould havesomekindof angle, thebastard. Zanereached foroneofthepillows andpulled itover, stuffing it under his chest to lie on, his arms wrapped around it as he waited.

In his medical kit, Ty had iodine and gauze, atin of Rawleigh's salve, sometapeandbandages, andinkeeping withhisalways prepared mantra,a flaskofpeach-flavoredmoonshineallthewayfromhome.Noneofitwas worthy ofbeing called aproper medical kit,butitgotthejobdone. He extracted most of it and laid it out on the long counter. He filled the ice bucket withwater, grabbed thestackofhandtowels, andheaded backoutintothe outerroom.Zanewasdrapedoverthepillow,long,barelegsextendedout over the bed.

Tylickedhislipsandforthefirsttimetookamomenttoreallylook at his new partner. It had been hidden under the suit, but there was no denying thathewasimpressively muscled, atleast.Andkindofhot,inastuffed-shirt, stick-up-his-asssort of way. When he wasn't covered in blood.

Heshrugged thatthought offandmovedcloser,kneelingbesidethe bedandsetting thewaterdownnext tohim."AllI'vegottodisinfect withis iodine,"hetoldhimashelookedupandexaminedthewounds."Gonna burn."

"Sure,what'salittlemorepain?"Zanebitofftightly,squeezing the pillow tighter.

TywassilentashecarefullywedgedseveraltowelsunderZane's bodytocatchthemessthewaterwasgoingtomake."Takesalotofstrength tosaynowhen youdon't have to,"hefinally murmured ashebegan cleaning the blood with a moistenedcloth. "I respect that, if that matters to you."

Zane was quiet foralong minute asthecool ragwiped carefully over his back. "Thank you," he finally said quietly. Wouldn't aglass of whiskey or ahandfulofVicodinbegreatrightaboutnow?Hell,evensomeibuprofen.

Maybehe'dthinkalittlemoreseriouslyabouttakingtheibuprofen.There were other things hesaidnoto,aswell ...most ofthetime.Things he'd do better nottothink about atall.Like theman behind him. Zanecould feelthe heat coming off him.

Hefellsilentforabitbeforespeaking again.Hisvoicewasn'tself-deprecatingorself-sympathetic;ifanythingitwasalittlecoldandclinical. "There's alotofthingsIsaynoto,"Zanemurmured without thinking about Ty's reaction. "But there's certainly no one to care."

"You saying you don't care?" Ty asked curiously.

Sighing, Zanepressed hischeek tothepillow. "Idocare.Butit'sthe bareminimum ofmotivation. LikeIwon'tpickupabottlebecauseIwantto keepajobIlove.Thatdoesn'tnecessarily translate tocaringifIpicklemy brains or not. I guess I've gotten a bit self-concernedsince my youth."

"Nothing wrong with self-concern,"Ty said as he wiped one lasttime atZane'sback,thensettheclothasideandreachedfortheiodine."Icould just do salve," he offered as he looked at the iodine doubtfully.

"Compromise,"Zanesaid."Putiodineontheworstonessothey won't get infected. Salve on the rest ought to be fine."

"All righty," Tyrumbled, then hequickly spread iodine onthe deeper gashes. "Why'd you drink?" he asked suddenly.

Zane's shoulders tightened in response.

"Don't have toanswer," Tywent onwithacareless shrug. "Just curious."

Zanepressedhislipstogethertightly."Mywifewaskilledinacar accident," hesaidtonelessly. "Iwasacrossthecountryatthetime.Hadbeen for a month."

Typursed hislipsandcontinued withtheiodine,hiseyesdrifting to the ring on Zane's finger. "My condolences."

Zane letoutapent-up breath. "Ikindofgot...alittleoutofcontrol. Clichéd, I know, but there it is."

"Happens,"Ty respondedwith another emotionlessshrug.

"SohereIam:widower, alcoholic, addict,all-around assholeturned squeaky clean by force of will, threat of jail, and sheer terror. I suppose it's no wonder your ‘pansy ass' comments get in my craw," Zane muttered.

"Iwouldn't think much ofyou iftheydidn't," Tyanswered, frankly a littlesurprisedatZane'sself-description."Andweallhaveoursobstories. Nothing tobeashamed over.Being apansyass,that'ssomething tobe ashamed over."

"I'm notarealpansyass,"Zaneobjected. "Ijustactlikeone sometimes."

That caused Tytolaugh. Hard. "Ifyousayso,man," hepractically giggled after he'd gotten control of himself.

Zanethwapped hisknuckles backagainstTy'sribs.Hard."Asshole," he said, in a vaguely fond fashion.

"I'mnotanasshole," Tyobjectedofficiously. "Ijustactlikeone sometimes," he added slyly.

Zanechuckled tiredlyandlaidhisheadbackdown. "Icanlivewith that," he murmuredafter a short pause.

"Oh yeah?" Ty asked in slight surprise.

ZanewonderedwhyTysoundedlikehedidn'tbelievehim."Yeah," hesaid simply ashelaystillunder Ty's hand, which wasspreading some sort ofawful-smellingsalveoverthemyriadnicksandcuts.Nowthatheknew what to expect—mostly—fromTy, he could ignore the worst of it. "You got a problem with that?"

"Maybe," Ty drawled with asmirk as hedipped more of the salve out onto Zane's back.

Zane's lips twitched. "Like what?"

"Givemeaminute,I'llthinkofsomething," Tyanswered ashe finished up with the Rawleigh's.

Zane'sexpressionwastornbetweenaslightfrownandanamused smile, and somethingglittered in his eyes for a change.

"There,"TyhuffedfinallyashestoodupandlookedZane'sback over."Don'trollover;you'llneverstop.Thatshit'sworsethanAstroglide," hewarned. "Imighttakeashower," headdedmusingly ashelooked downat his hands,still coveredin bloodand now salve that wouldn'tcome off without serious scrubbing.

"Helpyourself.Myclothesshouldfityouifyoudon'twanttogo back to your room," Zane murmured,eyes tracking the other man.

Tymerelynodded, notadmitting thathewashesitant toleaveZane alone. "Your clothes would fitmelikeaburlap sack. Ibrought mybag," he muttered ashewiped hishandsoffonthetowelatZane's side."I'm goingto goget you some icefirst. I'll beback," headded ashepicked upthe keycard to Zane's room. He'd rather not leave the door open again.

"Hey, give me my gun, would you?" Zane asked as he shifted, only to wince as the skin pulled.

"Why, youplanning onshooting meintheasswhenIturnaround?" Ty asked sarcasticallyas he reached for the holster.

"Tempting, butyou'dprobablygetoffonit,"Zanesaid,holding out his hand.

"Maybeso,"Tydrawledagain,grinningwidelyasheplacedthegun in Zane's hand.

Zane'spalmcoveredthegun,andhisfingerscurledfirmlyaround Ty's hand. Hiseyes hadgone serious when helooked upattheother agent. "Why did you help me?"

Tylooked down attheirhands and thenupatZanewith open confusion."Why wouldn't I?" he asked.

Thatcertainly wasn't theanswer Zaneexpected. Hefigured he'd get yet another smart-ass remark. His face softened slightly, and he nodded slowly, letting go of Ty's hand. "Thanks."

"Don'tthankme,"Tyresponded withasmirk."Justdon'tgetyour prissy ass hurt again."

"Better watchit,Grady, Imightgettothinking you're taking aliking to my prissy ass," Zane said, sliding the gun under the pillow.

"I'm sure I'dlikeparts ofit,"Tyshot back asheheaded forthedoor. "Be right back."

Zane grinned and pushed his face into the pillow to muffle his chuckle. Maybe Tywasn't quitesobadashe'dthought. Stillanasshole, though.

Tywasgoneforperhaps fiveminutes, quickly fillingtheicebucket and grabbing himself adrink from one of the machines. He couldn't shake the feelingofbeingwatched,nomatterhowmanytimesheassuredhimselfthat he was alone. When he returned to the room, his entire body was tense again.

Zane slidtheguninhishand back under thepillow once hesawTy. "Everythingokay?" he asked.

"Yup," Ty answered succinctly as he set the icedown and reached for his bags. "How's it feeling?"

"Annoying ashell,"Zanesaidfrankly. "It'snotkillingme,butI'm certainly feeling it. It's not too bad if I don't move a lot."

"Well,Iwouldsuggest notmoving, then," Tydrawled ashesethis bags on the other bed and began stripping off his clothing.

Zanejustraisedaneyebrowinwryacknowledgment, watchingidly. Tyyanked offhisshirt and tossed ittothefloor. Hetoed offhisboots and kickedout of his jeans, sighingwith the realization that they'dhave to frequent a laundromat if they expected to stay smelling decent.

He bent and began rummaging through his bag for clean clothing. His bodyboretheevidence ofalifelivedinthetrenches, anditwaseasiertosee nowintheafternoon lightstreaming through thesheercurtains. Zanegota closerlookatthetattooandrealizedthatitwasadrawingofabulldog wearing the distinctive white cover of aMarine. Two guns crossed behind the dog,thesmokefrom theirbarrelsforming thelettersUSMC. Itwasn't possible tomake outthefinerdetails. Zanewould needtogetcloser to appreciate the artwork. A lot closer.

TherestofTy's bodywascovered with battlescars. There were wounds that Zane recognized asgunshots andknife gashes, andseveral older, moreinterestingpatternsalonghis sidethat mighthavebeencausedby barbed wire. Theonethat wasmost recent wastheonehehadnoticed before, low on Ty's belly. Zane knew it went all the way through to the back.

Noneofitdetracted fromhisphysique. NotinZane'seyes.Zanehad hisshareof"mementos" fromthejob.Buttohim,theBureauwasjustajob, albeitoneheloved.Tylivedit.Tydidthejobbecausehebelievedinit, though Zane suspected Tywould never admit it.Itwas astark difference, and Zane lowered his chin to the pillow to mull silently over his own choices.

Typulled outanewT-shirt from hisseemingly endless supply, one with ExFed written across thefront inpurple andgreen letters, andheslid intoitasheturned around andlooked overZane."Sure you're allright?"he asked, sounding almost self-consciousas he covered up.

Zanerefocused onthemaninfrontofhim,blinking afewtimes.Ty lookeduncomfortablesuddenly.Worriedhispartnerwouldn'tbeuptothe task? He spent ashort minute thinking ofwhat hewanted tosay. This slightly different side of Ty—theman who'd tended his wounds—madeZane feel like hecouldbealittlemoreopen.Butthemannowinfrontofhimlooked uneasy.

"I will be," he answered quietly.

Ty raised an eyebrow dubiously and pursed his lips. He finally nodded andthenlooked backdownathimself. "Iwasgoingtoshower," he muttered, almost talking to himself as he pulled the clean T-shirt off again and flushed slightly in embarrassment.He wasn't used to being flustered.

Raising an eyebrow, Zane watched the slight blush cross Ty's cheeks. Seeing suchasoftlookontheothermanstirredsomething insideZane, somethingwarmhehadtoswallowon."Okay,"hemurmured."I'llhold down the fort."

Tynodded andpicked upabattered leather toiletry bagonhiswayto thebathroom.Hecouldn'tevenproduceasnappyresponse.Zanewatched himdisappearintothebathroom,stillalittlemystified.Hecertainlyhadn't saidanythinghethoughtcouldbeconstruedasembarrassing. Sighing,he shookhisheadjustslightly,wincedasthebackofhisneckscreamed,and tried to relax, eyes shuttering.

Takingtheminimumamountoftimeintheshower,Tywashedthe bloodoffandmadesurehewasreasonablyclean.Hesteppedoutofthe steamybathroom withnothingbutatowelaroundhiswaist,andhepeeredat Zaneclosely, tryingtodetermine ifhe'dgonetosleep.Hemovedcloserand knelt beside thebed,resting hischinonthemattress andlooking intoZane's face.

Dimly, Zane sensed his partner close. "What?" he murmuredsoftly.

"Nothin'," Tyansweredinthesamesofttone."Justmakingsureyou weren't dead."

Thecorner ofZane'smouth curled up."Would youmissme?"he asked sleepily, the drowsinesslulling him into the odd question.

"Sure," Tyanswered inagentlyplacating toneashereached upand petted Zane on the head to humor him.

Zane's softchuckle wasmostlymuffled bythepillow. "Sure you would," he said as he went to sleep, trusting Ty to keep watch.

Tysquatted bythe side ofthe bed for along time,frowning atZane's sleeping face.Thinking hardaboutit,herealized thathejustmightmissthe guy.Evenifitwasjustbecausehewassofuntoannoy."Damnyou,"he muttered softly.