Vin headed out and walked down to the waiting room. Leaning inside, he got the attention of the two workmen who had insisted on hanging around until Heron woke up. The one on the left had piercings on his face and the hard-ass, kinked-out air of someone who enjoyed pain. The other was huge with a long, dark braid over the shoulder of his leather jacket.

“He’s ready to go home.”

Pierced got to his feet. “The doctors are releasing him already?”

“Got nothing to do with the docs. He made the decision himself.” Vin nodded down the hall. “He’s in room six sixty-six. And he’s going to need a ride home.”

“We’re on it,” Pierced said, his silver eyes serious. “We’ll get him where he needs to go.”

Vin good-bye’d the pair and went over to catch an elevator down to the first floor. As he stepped inside the car, he took out his BlackBerry and called Devina to let her know they were having a guest for dinner. When he got voice mail, he kept it short and sweet and tried not to wonder what the hell she was doing while he was leaving his message.

Or who, as was the case.

Halfway down, the elevator bumped to a halt and the doors opened to let a pair of men in. As the trip downward resumed, the two traded affirming noises, like they’d just concluded a conversation satisfactorily and were reinforcing the fact. They were both dressed in slacks and sweaters, and the one on the left was balding at the crown, his brown hair pulling away like it was afraid being on top of the mountain….

Vin blinked. And then blinked again.

A shadow bloomed all around the balding man, the glimmering, shifting aura the color of pencil lead and the consistency of heat waves on pavement.

It couldn’t be…oh, God, no…after all these years of quiet, it couldn’t be back.

Curling his hands into fists, Vin closed his eyes and willed away the vision, kicking it out of his brain, denying it access to his neurons. He did not just see that. And if he had, it was a misread of the overhead lighting.

The shit was not back. He’d gotten rid of it. It was not back.

He cracked a lid, looked over at the guy…and felt like he’d been punched in the gut: The translucent shadow was as obvious as the clothes the man was wearing and as tangible as the person standing next to him.

Vin saw dead people, all right. Before they died.