Rising From Ruin: The Discarded Heiress

Miles was panicking. He straddled his grandfather and started pushing on his chest. But his hands were too low, pressing on the xiphoid process.

"Stop," Dejah barked. "You're breaking his ribs and lacerating his liver."

"Get away from him!" Miles yelled, tears streaming down his face. "You took his money! Don't touch him!"

Dejah didn't argue. She stepped forward and shoved Miles. She used her hip to displace his weight. He flew backward, landing on his ass.

She ripped Sterling's silk shirt open. His chest was silent. No rise and fall.

Dejah reached into her pocket and pulled out the tin case. She took out a long, thin titanium alloy needle.

Up on the balcony, Casimir leaned so far over the rail he almost fell. "Needles? Is he... doing acupuncture?"

Dejah found the spot. Pericardium 6 (Neiguan) on the wrist. And GV 26 (Renzhong) under the nose.

She drove the needle into his wrist.

The crowd gasped. Miles screamed, "He's stabbing him!"

Dejah flicked the end of the needle. She wasn't trying to restart the heart with magic; she was stimulating the sympathetic nervous system to trigger a massive adrenaline release.

She placed her palm over his heart and pushed. One hard, decisive compression.

Sterling's body jolted.

Dejah pushed again. "Breathe," she commanded.

Sterling inhaled. It was a ragged, desperate sound, like a drowning man breaking the surface.

Color flooded back into his face. His eyes fluttered open.

Dejah pulled the needle out. A tiny drop of blood welled up, but nothing more.

Sterling looked up at Dejah. His eyes were unfocused, then they sharpened. He saw her. He saw the needle.

"You..." he wheezed. "The pain... it's gone."

"Mitral valve prolapse complicated by acute coronary syndrome," Dejah recited. "Your meds are wrong. You're taking too many beta-blockers and not enough blood thinners. Fire your doctor. He's killing you."

Sterling tried to sit up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small object. A ring made of dark green jade.

"Take it," he whispered. "The Sterling Token. Show this... and my family will answer."

Dejah took the ring. It was warm. "This is worth more than the coin."

"You saved me," Sterling said. "Who are you?"

Dejah stood up. She pulled her cap down.

She leaned in close, so only he could hear. "Remember the hand that saved you. The code is Asclepius."

She didn't wait for a response. She turned and melted into the crowd. She didn't run. She just vanished.

High above, Casimir Vanderbilt stood up straight. He looked at Nate.

"Find him," Casimir said. His voice was cold, obsessed. "Find that boy. I don't care what it costs. I want to know who he is."

"Why?" Nate asked, still holding his nose.

"Because," Casimir said, watching the spot where Dejah had disappeared. "He fights like a girl I met today. And I want to know which face is the mask."

Dejah walked out of the laundromat and into the cold night air. She had six million dollars. She had a powerful favor. And she had a war to win.

But first, she had to get back into the attic before sunrise.

She touched the jade ring in her pocket. The game had changed. The spare part was now a player.