Dakota dropped the water bottle onto the hood and jogged toward the curve. Her boots crushed dead leaves on the shoulder.

She rounded the bend. A massive black Maybach sat diagonally across both lanes. Hazard lights blinked rapidly, flashing orange against the trees.

The rear passenger door was wide open. A cluster of people crowded around the asphalt near the rear tire. Panic radiated off them.

Dakota walked closer. A middle-aged woman lay flat on her back on the rough road. She wore an elegant silk dress that pooled around her legs. Her face was the color of ash. Her lips were a deep, bruised purple. Her hands clawed at the fabric over her chest. Her chest barely moved.

A younger woman in a designer suit knelt beside her. Tiffany Draper. Tears had ruined her makeup.

“Somebody do something,” Tiffany screamed at the men in black suits standing around them. “I’ll pay one million dollars to anyone who saves her.”

A man with gold-rimmed glasses knelt on Audrey’s other side. Sweat poured down his face. A leather medical bag sat open by his knees. His hands shook as he dug through it.

Dakota stopped at the edge of the circle. Her eyes locked onto the woman’s neck, watching the faint, erratic flutter of her pulse. She noted the exact shade of purple on her lips.

Her mind processed the symptoms instantly. This wasn’t a heart attack. The muscle spasms in the woman’s neck and that specific discoloration pointed to a rare poison attacking her heart.

The doctor pulled a plastic syringe from his bag. The needle was long and thick. He drew a clear liquid from a vial. Epinephrine. Adrenaline.

He raised the syringe. He aimed the needle directly at the center of the woman’s chest, preparing to plunge it straight into her heart.

Dakota’s stomach dropped. If that adrenaline hit a heart already weakened by poison, it would burst in seconds.

She moved. She didn’t push anyone. She dropped low, striking the inside of each man’s knee with a sharp, precise blow. The bodyguards grunted. Their legs buckled, creating an opening she slipped through.

She dropped to her knees. Her right hand clamped around the doctor’s wrist just as he drove the needle downward.

A loud pop. The bones in the doctor’s wrist ground together. He cried out in pain. The needle stopped one inch above the silk dress.

The doctor yanked his head up. His face went red with fury.

“What are you doing?” he yelled. “Get off me.”

Dakota twisted her grip. She pressed into the nerve cluster at his wrist. His fingers went numb and popped open. She snatched the syringe out of the air.

She held it up. Sunlight caught the sharp edge of the needle.

“If you push this into her chest, she’ll be dead in three seconds,” Dakota said. Her voice cut through the panic like a blade.

Tiffany scrambled to her feet. She pointed a shaking finger at Dakota’s faded jacket.

“Who the hell are you?” Tiffany shrieked. “Look at you. You look like a homeless beggar. How dare you touch her doctor.”

The doctor grabbed his injured wrist and scrambled backward.

“She’s trying to kill the patient,” he shouted. “If she dies, it’s this crazy woman’s fault.”

The bodyguards recovered their balance. They reached under their jackets. The metallic click of telescopic batons extending filled the air. Four men formed a tight ring around Dakota.

The air grew heavy. The men glared down at her.

Audrey’s body suddenly arched off the pavement. A horrible, wet choking sound came from her throat. The portable heart monitor attached to her wrist began beeping rapidly.

Dakota ignored the men looming over her. She tossed the syringe onto the asphalt and looked directly into Tiffany’s panicked eyes.

“I’m the only person here who can keep her alive,” Dakota said.

The words hung in the air. The highway went dead silent except for the frantic beeping of the heart monitor.

Tiffany let out a harsh, ugly laugh.

“You?” She looked Dakota up and down, her eyes lingering on the scuffed boots. “You can’t even afford a decent coat. You’re a street rat playing doctor.”

The private physician scrambled to his feet. He pointed his uninjured hand at Dakota.

“She’s a murderer,” he yelled at the head bodyguard. “Throw this lunatic into the ditch before she kills my patient.”

Two bodyguards stepped forward. Their massive hands reached for Dakota’s shoulders.

Dakota’s eyes turned to ice. Her right hand dropped to her waist, fingers curling into a tight fist. Her muscles locked.

On the ground, Audrey convulsed violently. A stream of thick, black blood erupted from her mouth, spilling down her chin and staining the silk dress.

The doctor screamed and jumped back.

“The poison hit her heart,” he yelled, his voice cracking. “She’s gone. Start making the calls.”

Tiffany’s face drained of color. She grabbed handfuls of her own hair.

“If she dies, the Wilder family will slaughter us all,” she shrieked.

Dakota heard the name. Wilder. The most powerful family in the country.

The bodyguards froze, their eyes locked on the black blood. Dakota used their hesitation. She dropped her shoulder and slid past them.

She dropped to one knee beside Audrey. She pressed three fingers against the side of Audrey’s neck, feeling for a pulse. It was weak and chaotic.

Tiffany saw Dakota touching Audrey. She lunged forward, her hands hooking into claws, aiming for the back of Dakota’s jacket.

Dakota didn’t look back. She swung her left arm backward in a sweeping arc. The back of her hand slammed into Tiffany’s waist.

Tiffany stumbled and crashed hard onto the asphalt.

“If you want her to live, shut your mouth,” Dakota commanded. The authority in her voice froze everyone in place.

The bodyguards didn’t move. They stared at the girl, paralyzed.

Tiffany sat on the ground, her chest heaving with rage.

“If she dies while you’re touching her, you’ll pay with your life,” she screamed.

Dakota peeled Audrey’s eyelids back, checking her pupils. She didn’t look at Tiffany.

“And if I bring her back?” Dakota asked.

Tiffany gritted her teeth. “That million dollars is yours.”

Dakota shifted her gaze to the massive diamond necklace resting against Tiffany’s collarbone.

“A million isn’t enough,” Dakota said. “I want the necklace. And I want you to bow and apologize in front of everyone.”

Tiffany gasped. Her hands flew to cover the diamonds. She’d borrowed the piece just to impress the Wilder family.

Audrey’s chest stopped moving entirely. The heart monitor’s beeping grew erratic.

“Fine,” Tiffany screamed, tears spilling down her face. “Deal. But if she’s not awake in five minutes, I’ll have you thrown in a cell forever.”

Dakota’s lips curved into a cold smile. “Deal.”

She turned her full attention back to the dying woman. She reached up to the back of her head. Her fingers found a plain black bobby pin holding her long black hair in place.

She pulled the pin out. Her hair fell in a heavy wave over her shoulders.

Dakota pressed her thumbnail against a hidden groove on the side of the hairpin. A tiny click sounded. The top slid open. Inside lay a row of hair-thin silver needles.

Sunlight caught the silver needles. They gleamed cold and sharp against the black metal.

The doctor let out a dramatic gasp and pointed.

“What is that? Unsterilized needles?” he yelled. “That’s blatant malpractice. You’ll give her a massive infection or cause internal bleeding. Security, restrain her.”

Tiffany scrambled to her knees. She pulled out her phone and aimed the camera directly at Dakota.

“I’m recording everything,” she threatened. “You’re going to prison.”

Dakota tuned out the noise. The world shrank down to the dying woman beneath her hands. Her eyes turned sharp and clinical.

She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a foil-wrapped alcohol prep pad. She tore it open with her teeth. She pinched the first silver needle between her thumb and forefinger and swiped it through the pad.

Her right hand moved blindingly fast. She drove the needle straight into the center of Audrey’s forehead.

The bodyguards flinched. One looked away.

Audrey’s body, which had been thrashing against the pavement, instantly went rigid. The violent spasms stopped.

The doctor pushed his glasses up his nose. He stared at the motionless body.

“Impossible,” he muttered.

Dakota didn’t pause. She grabbed the collar of Audrey’s silk dress and ripped it downward. The fabric tore, exposing the pale skin over her sternum.

She sterilized three more needles in rapid succession. She plunged them deep into the flesh around her heart. Her fingers moved with brutal precision, hitting the key points around the failing organ.

She flicked the end of each needle with her fingernail. The thin metal vibrated rapidly, emitting a low hum.

The vibration traveled down the needles. The dark purple on Audrey’s lips slowly began to fade into a pale pink.

Suddenly, the portable heart monitor shrieked. A solid, unbroken tone pierced the air.

The jagged green line on the screen flattened into a perfectly straight line.

Tiffany dropped her phone. It clattered against the asphalt.

“She killed her,” Tiffany screamed. “She’s dead.”

The doctor jumped forward. “I told you. She’s a fraud. Arrest her.”

Two bodyguards moved in fast. One grabbed Dakota’s shoulder with a vice-like grip. The other drew a taser, the red laser dot fixing on the center of her back. The heavy click of the weapon arming echoed loudly.

Dakota felt the grip on her shoulder and the threat at her back. Her heart rate didn’t increase. She kept her eyes locked on Audrey’s chest.

“Shut up,” she ordered.

She reached into the bottom compartment of the hairpin and pulled out the final needle. It was twice as long as the others and made of pure gold.

Dakota took a deep breath. She gripped the gold needle with both hands. She found the exact center of Audrey’s chest, right between the ribs.

She drove the gold needle downward with massive force. It sank deep, only a tiny fraction of the metal visible above the skin.

Silence. The flatline tone screamed in their ears.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

Tiffany let out a cruel, hysterical laugh. She looked at the bodyguards.

“Tase her,” she ordered.

The bodyguard’s finger tightened on the trigger.

Audrey’s chest suddenly jerked upward. Her back arched off the ground. A loud, desperate gasp tore from her throat, like a drowning victim breaking the surface.

The straight line on the monitor spiked. It dipped, then spiked again. A strong, steady rhythm filled the screen. The flatline alarm cut off.

Color rushed back into Audrey’s cheeks. Her eyelids fluttered and slowly opened.

Dakota stood up. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped a drop of sweat from her temple. She looked at the men holding the guns.

“She’s alive,” Dakota said.