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.

The words stunned everyone.

The bodyguards stared at Audrey’s rising chest. They released Dakota, hands shaking as they shoved the taser back into its holster. The hostility in their eyes vanished. Replaced by awe.

The doctor dropped to his knees beside the monitor. He stared at the strong, rhythmic green lines. He looked at the gold needle buried in Audrey’s chest. His jaw dropped.

“The Lazarus Protocol,” he whispered. His voice trembled. “I read about this in a classified medical journal. It’s real.”

The bodyguards exchanged shocked glances. Even they knew the rumors of the mythical acupuncture technique that could restart a dead heart.

Tiffany stood frozen. The blood drained from her face. She’d just insulted a master physician. And she’d lost the bet.

Tiffany took a slow step backward, turning her body toward the open door of the Maybach.

Dakota caught the movement. She kicked the toe of her boot against the asphalt, popping a small, jagged rock into the air. She kicked it forward.

The rock shot across the road and slammed into the back of Tiffany’s knee.

Tiffany screamed. Her leg buckled. She crashed face-first against the side of the Maybach.

Dakota walked slowly toward the car. She stopped behind Tiffany and held out her open palm.

Tiffany rubbed her bruised cheek and glared at Dakota. She opened her mouth to scream for the guards.

A weak, raspy voice came from the ground.

“Tiffany.”

Tiffany froze and slowly turned her head.

Audrey sat up, supported by the lead bodyguard. She was weak, but her eyes burned with absolute authority. She’d been paralyzed, but she’d heard every word spoken while she was trapped in her own body.

“Give the girl what you promised,” Audrey commanded. Her voice was quiet but carried the weight of the Wilder empire.

Tiffany trembled. She didn’t dare disobey. She reached up and fumbled with the clasp of the diamond necklace. She pulled the heavy jewels off and dropped them into Dakota’s waiting hand. The diamonds felt cold.

“The rest of it,” Dakota said, staring down at her.

Tiffany’s face burned bright red. She stepped away from the car and bent at the waist, bowing deeply toward the girl in the faded jacket.

“I’m sorry,” Tiffany forced the words through clenched teeth. Humiliation shook her shoulders.

Dakota let out a short breath. “Your apology is pathetic, but I accept it.”

Audrey pushed herself up with the bodyguard’s help. She walked slowly toward Dakota and shoved the doctor out of her way.

Audrey snapped her fingers. An assistant rushed forward with a leather checkbook and a pen. Audrey scribbled across the paper and tore it out.

She held the check out with both hands. It was written for one million dollars.

“Thank you for saving my life,” Audrey said. “Please, give me your contact information. The Wilder family owes you a great debt.”

Dakota took the check. She folded it once and shoved it into her pocket without looking at the zeros. She recited her personal, encrypted number. Only a very select few people had it.

Dakota walked back to Audrey. Her hands moved in a blur, pulling the silver and gold needles from the woman’s chest and head. She slid them back into the hairpin and clipped it into her hair.

“The poison is only suppressed,” Dakota said. “Get to a hospital and get your blood filtered immediately.”

She turned her back on the billionaires, picked up her canvas backpack from the hood of the ruined Ford, and started walking down the highway.

Audrey watched the girl walk away. She turned to her assistant.

“Find out everything about her,” she ordered.