By the time Marcus arrived at the specialist treatment center, the worst of the bleeding had stopped. That was the only encouraging thing the doctors could tell Adam. The damage beneath the dressings remained severe, and every breath Marcus took depended on the thin strands of darkness stretched around his broken ribs and spine.
A nurse adjusted a monitor beside the bed. Marcus watched its numbers rise and fall, though he understood very little about what they meant. What he did understand was the silence in his head. Shade had spent most of the journey complaining, but now he answered only when Marcus spoke first.
'You still there?' Marcus asked.
'Unfortunately,' Shade replied.
'You've been quiet.'
'I've been working. Some of us can't afford to lie around and admire the ceiling.'
