Vicious Grace

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I would once again like to thank Jayné Franck for the use of her name; my editor, Jennifer Heddle, for her attention and support; and my agents, Shawna McCarthy and Danny Baror, for making this project possible. And also Carrie Vaughn, whose friendship and intellectual company have made this a more interesting book.

Kim arrived at the fMRI suite twenty minutes later than she’d intended. It was in a wing of the hospital she rarely passed through, and late at night, there were few people to ask for directions. As she swiped her card through the passkey protection, she had a sense of being tardy for class. The doors opened silently onto a long, empty corridor. Only one in three lights glowed, giving the space a sense of twilight and darkness. The smell of antiseptic and electricity seemed to cover something deep and earthy. The closed doors of the individual rooms couldn’t quite shut out the clanks and thumps of the machines. A man in a white coat much like her own leaned out of a door halfway down the hall, his eyebrows raised and his mouth set in a scowl.

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