PREFACE

Keep your precious gemstones hidden, safe havens for them make

When the Whisper comes to call, they are mine to take.

Glimmer, glitter, pretty, pretty, yours not mine ’tis such a pity

In a blink, a flash of time, what is thine shall now be mine.

-N.M.Popovich

Chapter 1

Noise, shouts and orders abounded. Even the sounds became more and more dim. Steven’s mind drifted in and out of consciousness. He surfaced when excruciating pain electrified his body as powerful hands applied compression to his wounded leg.

He tried to force his drifting mind to concentrate. What happened and why did he hurt so badly? A gunshot, yes, he remembered now, the impact as the bullet hit, the burning pain and the panicked way his friends tended to him. He drifted away again, and Steven believed he was about to die.

Medics burst into his reality and took over the compression of his wound, mumbling about blood loss, Steven thought. Concentration became difficult. He kept drifting away, which relieved the intense pain.

Steven found himself beginning to float. Occasionally, the odd word registered. He vaguely felt the lift into the ambulance, the sensation of rapid movement and the sound of wailing sirens echoing through the streets of Paris as the ambulance raced to the hospital.

During the bumpy ride, his shattered leg, in spite of being stabilized, screamed with every bump. Able hands kept the pressure steady and with each corner the ambulance took, the queasiness in his stomach increased. The medics spoke to one another in staccato-like words he could not understand, and the sirens wailed non-stop. Steven tried his utmost to stay in the moment, but his mind had other plans and he continued to float in and out of consciousness.

Lights assaulted his eyes and hands seemed to probe every part of his body. They removed his shoes and Steven became aware his clothes began to disappear, including his favourite sweater, a gift from Mimi.

Mimi, where was she? They had barely been married a week. Was she shot, too?

Something poked into his arm, followed by a cool trickle in his vein, which transformed into a warm glow.

Suddenly, the world spun, but it only took a second for Steven to understand—he was moving on a gurney! His half-open eyes viewed doorways and corridors flash by. The gurney then crashed into a bright room and Steven shivered. Was this what the ubiquitous they meant by the white light of death?

Grey fog surrounded him and the pain continued to ease. A new sensation invaded his vein and with each drip, he lost more connection with his body.