Chapter 1

Avalon stumbled out of the private elevator. Her combat boots skidded on the imported marble floor. Thick plastic zip-ties bit viciously into her wrists, chafing the skin raw. Caleb Pierce shoved her hard between the shoulder blades. She hit the ground. The impact sent a sharp jolt up her knees. Her sharp gaze instantly swept the penthouse. Three armed guards. Tactical vests. Assault rifles resting against their chests. Caleb grabbed her by the collar and hauled her to her knees in the center of the living room. The cold, metallic barrel of a Glock pressed hard against her right temple. Avalon bit the inside of her cheek. The metallic taste of blood grounded her. She locked her eyes on the man slumped on the custom Italian leather sofa. Sterling Vanderbilt groaned. His usually flawless, aristocratic face was a sickly, ashen gray. A thick layer of toxic, feverish sweat coated his forehead. His chest heaved in shallow, erratic jerks. "Fix him!" Caleb screamed, his spit hitting Avalon's cheek. "Give him the cure, Citron, or I'll blow your brains out right now!" Avalon tilted her head. A cold smirk touched her lips. "I don't know who Citron is," she said flatly. Caleb's thumb clicked the safety off the Glock. The metallic snap echoed in the massive room. He dug the muzzle deeper into her skin, scraping the bone. Avalon's brain shifted into overdrive. She calculated the angle of Caleb's arm, the tension in his shoulder, the distance to the guards. One point two seconds. That was her window. "I'm Dr. D," Avalon said, her voice dripping with mocking boredom. "I'm a black-market veterinarian. You dragged me out of a dog fight for this?" Caleb lost his mind. Caleb roared as he hoisted her off the ground by her collar. The exact moment he raised his hand back to strike her across the face, Avalon moved. She used the upward momentum of being lifted. She twisted her torso violently, bringing her bound wrists up and smashing the plastic zip-ties directly against the sharp edge of Caleb's tactical belt buckle. The plastic snapped. Before Caleb could blink, Avalon drove her elbow straight into his throat. Cartilage crunched. Caleb gagged, his airway instantly crushed. He dropped the gun. Avalon caught the Glock mid-air. She swept her leg out, kicking Caleb's knees out from under him. He crashed to the marble floor with a heavy thud. The three guards raised their rifles. Avalon already had Caleb pinned beneath her knee. She jammed the barrel of the Glock hard under his chin. "Drop them," Avalon commanded. Her voice dropped an octave, chilling and authoritative. The guards froze. They looked at Sterling, whose body was beginning to seize violently on the sofa. Slowly, reluctantly, they lowered their weapons. "Kick them away," Avalon ordered. The guards complied. The rifles slid across the marble. Avalon kept her gun trained on Caleb as she backed slowly toward the sofa. She reached Sterling. She pressed two fingers against his neck. His pulse was a frantic, thready flutter beneath her fingertips. A rare neurotoxin. He had less than three minutes before his organs liquefied. Sterling's eyes fluttered open. They were stormy, piercing gray. Even through the haze of imminent death, they locked onto hers with a terrifying, predatory intensity. His hand shot out. He gripped her wrist with shocking strength. His skin was ice cold. "If you kill me," Sterling rasped, his voice a broken gravel, "you won't leave New York alive." Avalon smirked. She easily peeled his weak, trembling fingers off her wrist. She reached down to her combat boot and pulled a silver auto-injector from a concealed pocket. "Hold still," she muttered. She slammed the injector directly into the center of his chest. The experimental universal antidote hissed loudly as it flooded his bloodstream. Sterling gasped. His spine arched off the leather sofa. His muscles locked up as the violent chemical reaction tore through the poison. "Boss!" Caleb yelled, scrambling to his feet, thinking she had just delivered a lethal injection. He lunged forward. Avalon didn't even look. She pointed the Glock and fired. The bullet shattered a multimillion-dollar Ming vase exactly two inches from Caleb's right foot. Porcelain exploded across the room. Caleb froze. Avalon tossed the empty silver injector onto Sterling's heaving chest. "Keep the tip," she said sarcastically. She sprinted toward the floor-to-ceiling window. She didn't bother looking for a switch. She pulled a specialized bypass dongle from her combat boot and jammed it directly into the control panel's diagnostic port. Within three seconds, the system was hacked. The automated window shrieked and slid open. The howling New York wind and freezing rain blasted into the penthouse. Avalon leaped out onto the rusted fire escape. She disappeared into the stormy night just as Sterling's erratic breathing finally stabilized.