Chapter 6 · Two Heartbeats

The howl tore out of my son like something with teeth.

It slammed against the steel walls of the triage bay, vibrating through the floorboards until the blast glass in the frames started to scream. Leo hit the tile on both knees. Both of his tiny hands knotted into the front of his shirt. His back arched so hard I could trace every knob of his spine through the worn cotton.

That wasn't a six-year-old's cry.

It was older. Ancient. Heavy enough to choke on.

Maya buried her face straight into my hip, her little fingers clamped over her ears. "Mom. Mom, make it stop!"

"I've got you, baby. I'm right here." I threw one arm over Maya, dragging her in, while my other palm slapped flat against Leo's back.

He was burning.

Not a sick fever. An engine fire. Heat surged up through his skin, radiating off him like an open furnace. Underneath the heat was the sharp, metallic sting of copper. Blood.

"Leo. Look at me. Right now."

His head snapped up.

His eyes weren't the slate-blue he'd had since the second the nurse handed him to me.

They were pure, molten gold.

Lit from the inside.