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  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  512 Forest Lake Drive

  Warner Robins, Georgia 31093

  Devil’s Playground

  Copyright © 2007 by Arianna Hart

  Cover by Scott Carpenter

  ISBN: 1-59998-201-3

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: August 2007

  Devil's Playground

  Arianna Hart

  Dedication

  For my mother who is still the epitome of the perfect nurse, even if she is retired. Thanks for all the insights and help with research.

  And as always, for my family. Although I don’t have any brothers, I know my sisters have my back no matter what. My husband and my children put up with me when I’m neck deep in a story and my parents support me even when I don’t deserve it.

  Also, to my second family, my writing buddies who listen to me whine, lift me up when I need it and kick me in the pants when I need that too.

  It may take a village to raise a child, but it takes a vast global network to get an author through a book. Thank you to all of my friends around the world who get me through this crazy process.

  Chapter One

  “Help.”

  What on earth? Caitlyn O’Toole looked down to see a bloody hand holding a badge sticking out from under her SUV. There was a man under her Jeep.

  A bleeding man.

  She squatted down to get a better look and immediately recognized the coppery smell of blood in the air. Bright red splatters covered her white shoes and made her blue hospital scrubs look black in the dim light from the parking garage. Bending lower, Caitlyn peered under the running board.

  “Mac?” Devlin “Mac” McDougal, her brother Tom’s partner at the FBI, stared at her, blue eyes filled with pain.

  “What are you doing here? Where’s Tom? Have you been shot? Let me help you get to the emergency room. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” That was an understatement. There was a pool of it in front of him.

  “Undercover. Can’t blow it.” His voice was weak and his eyes closed with the strain from talking.

  “And can’t go to the hospital because someone will have to report a gunshot wound.” She’d done two of those reports tonight during her shift in the ER. He nodded weakly.

  “Let me call Tom.”

  “Can’t put him in danger. Please. Help. Me.” Sky blue eyes entreated her from the shadows under her car. Footsteps thundered from the floor above her almost in time to the rapid beating of her heart. The squeal of sneakers on cement echoed in the cavernous emptiness of the parking garage.

  “They’re. Coming. Will. Finish. Me. Off.” He tried to move, but hissed in pain. His breathing was rapid and shallow.

  “Who’s coming?” she asked, watching as blood spurted between the fingers he had held to his side.

  Caitlyn looked around for one of the security guards. Not an officer in sight. She had to do something. She couldn’t just leave him here to die. “Come on, you’ll have to help me. I can’t get you in the back by myself.” She’d call her brother, Jim, to ask him for help. By the looks of Mac’s injury, she was going to need all the help she could get.

  Mac rolled slowly out from under the Jeep, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. She’d better do something about that too.

  It wasn’t until he had stumbled and groaned his way to his feet that she remembered how big her brother’s friend really was. She was close to six feet tall, and he topped her by at least another four inches. And solid. Boy he was solid. She could feel the muscles in his arms and torso as she slipped her shoulder under his arm to support him until she could get the door open.

  “Here, get in the back and lay down. I’ll put the blanket over you. Try to stay as still as possible.” Caitlyn grabbed the beach blanket out of the back and flipped it over him messily. It didn’t cover him all the way. Damn.

  Slipping off her light jacket, Caitlyn tossed it over the seat, draping it over his head in the process, effectively covering him but hopefully not suffocating him. She grabbed a towel off the front seat and used it to mop up the blood on the floor the best she could. The nurse in her winced at wiping up blood with her bare hands but she didn’t have time to find gloves.

  Rolling the bloody towel into a ball, she tossed it in back on top of the lump that was her passenger. The more stuff back there, the better he’d be hidden.

  She hoped.

  Caitlyn’s blood pumped with excitement and adrenaline. This was just like the spy games she used to play with her brothers when she was a kid. Looking around the garage she didn’t see anyone watching her but even as she tossed her purse into the passenger seat, she heard the sound of running feet coming from around the corner.

  Panic churned in her gut, urging her to peel out of the lot as fast as she could drive but Caitlyn kept her foot light on the gas pedal. She didn’t want to do anything out of the ordinary. Nodding politely to the security guard on duty at the gate, she pulled out slowly and cautiously. It wasn’t until she hit the straightaway that she leaned on the gas and tried to make up time in the night-darkened streets.

  Her mind moved as fast as the buildings whizzing by her. She’d need a bag of IV fluid, some sutures, a probe, some antibiotics, and plenty of trauma dressings. She thought she had everything but the IV fluid and antibiotics at home. Time to call in a few favors.

  With one hand on the wheel, Caitlyn reached into her purse and fumbled around, trying to find her cell phone.

  “Stupid things. Why do they make them so small you can’t even find them?” Upending the purse, she dumped its contents out on the seat until she found her phone.

  “Don’t tell anyone.” Mac’s voice came from the back seat, deep and raspy with pain.

  “I’m just going to get some help from my brother, Jim. You remember him, don’t you?”

  “No one. Can’t let anyone else know.” She looked through the rearview mirror and could see his hand on the door handle. Caitlyn just knew he’d try to jump out if she didn’t agree to keep quiet. He’d rather kill himself than let her get help.

  “You aren’t making this very easy.” She waited for him to say something else but he remained quiet, his hand still on the door handle. Stubborn man. “Fine, I won’t tell him but I still need to call him so he can get me some supplies from the clinic.”

  “Don’t tell him.” Mac’s face was ghastly white in the glow of the passing streetlights.

  “I’ll make up something. Don’t worry.” What, she didn’t know but she’d think of something. She needed those supplies.

  Dialing Jim’s cell phone while keeping her eyes on the road, she prayed he was back from his last paramedic run on the ambulance.

  “O’Toole.”

  “Jim! I need a favor. A big favor.”

  “I am not taking any more shifts at the ER. The last time I worked in there I ended up with a fat lip from a drunk.”

  “I don’t want you to work, I need your help.”

  “What do you need?” he asked, his voice wary.

  “I need a bag of ringers and a bag of antibiotics, plus the nee
dles, tubes, and catheters to go with them. And I need them now.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes. Please, Jim. Do this for me and I’ll put in a good word for you with Maggie.” Jim had been working on getting one of the other night nurses to go out with him for weeks.

  “Come on Cat, it’s after midnight, can’t it wait?”

  “Would I be calling you if it could? And don’t give me ‘it’s after midnight’ you know you’ll be up for hours still. All I’m asking is just this one tiny favor. I’ll replace them. Please.”

  “Cripes.” She could hear his heavy sigh of exasperation. “All right. Is this another one of your strays?” Caitlyn had a habit of taking care of sick and stray animals and nursing them back to health.

  “Uh, you could say that.”

  “I can’t believe I’m going to have to beg medical equipment for some stray dog that got hit or something. How big?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “How big a dog? I need to know how many bags of ringers to bring.”

  “Big, real big.” Caitlyn remembered the feel of Mac’s body against her side. “Probably close to two hundred pounds.”

  “Two hundred pounds! Hell! What did you pick up, a stray horse?”

  “Just bring me the stuff. Okay?” Caitlyn risked another quick look in the rear view mirror. Mac’s hand had relaxed on the door handle but he still watched her.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll do it. Meet you at your place in about fifteen. I’ve got to finish up this paperwork then I’m off.”

  “You’re the best, Jimbo! Did I ever tell you I loved you best?” she teased.

  “Only when you’re getting your way.”

  Caitlyn hung up with a smile. That was one obstacle out of her way. Now, she needed to get Mac into her apartment without making a scene, find the bullet, patch him up, and pray that he survived the night. She’d worry about why she couldn’t tell Tom about this in the morning.

  Provided he lived that long.

  Squashing the thought, she pulled into the driveway of her apartment. She’d park next to her back door and move the Jeep later.

  Her hands shook as she got out and unlocked her door. She flipped on lights and pulled down shades as she went through the apartment. Once she reached the living room, she quickly unfolded the futon bed. She grabbed some old sheets and towels from the closet in the bathroom and threw them on the mattress. It wasn’t a bed at the Ritz but it would do.

  Rushing back outside, she took a quick look around. She didn’t see anyone but it was pitch black out. She’d have to take her chances that they hadn’t been followed because her patient wasn’t going to be able to last much longer.

  “Come on, I can’t do this without your help. Just a little longer and I’ll have you stretched out on the bed.”

  Those eyes! Those startling blue eyes looked up at her blearily, blinking and wincing at the light over the steps.

  “Come on, we’ve got to hurry. I need you under wraps before Jim gets here. Can you walk on your own?”

  “If I have to.” His voice, husky and filled with determination, sent chills down her spine.

  “You have to. I’ll help you, it isn’t far.”

  Again, Caitlyn was surprised by how tall he was. She wrapped her arm around his back and used her body to take as much of his weight as she could.

  “You’re doing great, just a few more feet and we’re there. You can do it,” she encouraged him as they stumbled their way through the kitchen. His face was alarmingly pale and sweat dripped from him in torrents. Jim better get here soon with those fluids or she was in deep doo doo.

  Her apartment had never seemed so big as it did now that she was trying to help him across it. Finally they made it and she was able to lower him, a bit gracelessly, to the futon. Stretching the aching muscles in her back, Caitlyn noticed the blood on her shirt. She had to get his bleeding stopped before she could do anything else.

  The baggy shorts he wore came off easily, along with the enormous high-top sneakers. She cut off his basketball style shirt with her trauma sheers, and then grabbed a sheet to cover his nakedness.

  Turning on another light, Caitlyn eased him over on his side so she could see his wound better. There was a huge, gaping hole to the left of his navel. Placing one of the towels against the wound to stop the bleeding, she rolled him over to see the other wound. He’d been shot in the back, probably not from close range, and it looked like the bullet went clear through. At least she wouldn’t have to go looking for a chunk of metal; she’d just have to make sure nothing else was damaged.

  Caitlyn grabbed another towel and pressed it against the smaller wound. She pulled on the pieces of the torn shirt that were still trapped under his large frame, until she could tie the ends in a knot. There, that should keep the towels in place for the moment.

  Running to the bathroom, she pulled her mega first aid kit off the shelf. This was usually reserved for camping trips when they were deep in the woods and miles away from medical care. God, she hoped she’d restocked it after the last trip. Loosening the buckles on the bag, she hurried back to the futon.

  Mac hadn’t moved so much as a muscle, his face was deathly pale and his black eyelashes stood out in sharp definition on his cheekbones. She was going to do her best to make sure those eyes didn’t stay closed forever.

  Digging around in the huge knapsack, Caitlyn pulled out trauma dressings, her suture kit, gauze, and some peroxide. She put everything in easy reach, then cut the ties holding the towels over the wounds. Dumping peroxide over a cloth, she washed out the entrance wound, wincing at the pain it must cause him as it bubbled away the germs.

  Mac’s hand twitched near her as she continued to dab at the wound. Taking his wrist, she felt for his pulse. Rapid and weak, not exactly the two things she wanted to feel. Where was Jim? She needed to get some fluids into him or all the cleaning she did would be useless.

  The sudden knock on the door made her jump and she sloshed peroxide all over the towel she had on the bed. Speak of the devil. Her hands shook as she put the cap back on and ran to the door.

  “Geez Cat, you didn’t even shut your car door. Do you want someone to steal it or something?”

  “Sorry, I had my hands full. Do you have all the stuff?”

  “Yeah, you need any help? There’s blood all over you.” Jim tried to look past her into the living room.

  “It’s his, and no, I don’t need any help. He’s out cold.”

  “He?”

  Crap. She wasn’t used to lying to her brother. “Yeah, you know, the stray. It’s a he.”

  “Oh, yeah, I guess it would have to be, seeing as he’s so big. Okay, I’ll leave you to your duties, Dr. Doolittle.” He craned his head again but she blocked his view as she took the bag of supplies from him.

  “Thanks.” She kissed him on the cheek and waited impatiently for him to back out of the driveway. At least he hadn’t mentioned the blood soaked blanket in the back seat of the Jeep. He must either be really tired or have something to do because he gave up pretty easily. Well, she couldn’t worry about that now, she’d just thank God for small favors.

  And large. She was going to need all the help she could get tonight.

  As soon as he was out of sight, Caitlyn slammed the door and locked it, then ran back to the living room. Mac had turned over onto his back while she was talking to Jim. Blood soaked through the towel she’d used. She’d get the IV started and then go back to work on his wounds.

  He had veins like garden hoses. Man, she wished all her patients were this easy to start a line on. In two minutes flat she had the catheter in and the fluids running full speed. That should counteract the shock. Maybe. He’d lost a lot of blood.

  Caitlyn focused on the gaping hole in Mac’s stomach next. Using every pad and dressing she had, plus most of her towels, she managed to clean out the wound and slow down the bleeding. Thank God the bullet hadn’t nicked an artery or he’d be in even bigger trouble.

  As it
was, without making the injury worse, she couldn’t tell if anything had been damaged on the inside. The only thing she could do was hope the bullet had gone through without hitting any major organs. Stopping the bleeding was the most important thing right now. If he lost much more blood, she’d have to take him into the hospital for a transfusion. Or watch him die.

  “Thank God you’re out, buddy, this isn’t going to feel good.” Caitlyn strung her needle with the sterile thread and took a calming breath before sewing the ragged flesh back together. He didn’t even flinch as the needle pierced his skin.

  The wound on his back was so small she could use Steri-strips to close it. He probably wouldn’t even have a mark from that one. Must have been a small caliber bullet to make such a small entrance wound.

  She finished up her stitches and taped the other wound closed. Once she finished with the bullet holes, she wrapped a roll of gauze around his torso to hold everything in place. That should hold him for a few hours.

  Caitlyn started the antibiotics flowing through the IV line, then sat back on her heels and wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her wrist. All she could do now was pray.

  Standing up, Caitlyn felt the room spin. It was after three in the morning, and she’d been working since noon. It was way past time for bed. She’d put the blood soaked clothes into the wash, then lay down for a little bit.

  She tried to take a step towards the washer and stumbled. The room spun dizzily around her. Maybe she’d do the wash later and just take a little nap right here on the futon next to Mac. She’d wake up in a few minutes.

  * * *

  Hot, why was it so hot? Caitlyn tried to kick off the covers and realized she didn’t have any on. Was the air conditioner off again? Groggily opening one eye, she looked for the clock on the side of her bed. It wasn’t there. Or more precisely, she wasn’t on her bed.

  And she wasn’t alone.

  She was pressed up against a very hot, very male body in the middle of her living room. Trying to kick her caffeine-deprived brain into gear, Caitlyn forced herself to remember why there was a drop dead sexy, naked, man in bed with her. And why did she still have her work clothes on?