NATE'S POV
The adrenaline that had fueled my descent into the maintenance level evaporated the moment I saw Thomas slumped against the nitrogen manifold. The air was still thick with the acrid scent of ozone and the metallic tang of blood, my brother's blood.
"Thomas!" I was on my knees beside him before the elevator doors had even fully retracted, and my hands went around him. I pulled him, and we stood there in an embrace before I stepped back.
After joking about how the Coles can never be taken down, he finally got serious. "Watch the... the shirt, Nate," Thomas wheezed, a ghost of a grin flickering on his pale lips. He was clutching his side, the charcoal tactical fabric of his suit soaked a deep, shimmering black. "Custom-tailored... remember?"
