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      To the most amazing plot-buddy on the planet,

      Travis White. And my equally amazing editor,

      Keyren Gerlach—you will be missed, K!

       Chapter 1

      “Are you lost, Blondie?”

      Sebastian Stone killed the engine of the Jeep and glanced over his shoulder, ready to work the charm on the female whose tone had been more mocking than welcoming. But when said female strode up to the driver’s side, the flirty remark died in his throat. The girl couldn’t have been older than fourteen or fifteen, which rendered any flirtatious exchanges absolutely inappropriate.

      Still, he couldn’t resist a little mocking jab of his own. “Actually, kiddo, I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

      He knew no self-respecting teenage girl would respond well to being called kiddo, and sure enough, he got the reaction he’d expected. The girl’s brown eyes flashed with indignation, and her mocha-colored cheeks took on a reddish hue.

      Shooting him a sinister look, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Seriously, dude, what are you doing here?”

      Sebastian hopped out of the Jeep and nodded at the ramshackle brick building twenty feet away. “I have an appointment with Dr. Davenport.”

      Those dark eyes narrowed. “Are you a patient?”

      He cocked a brow. “No. Are you?”

      “No.” She huffed out an annoyed breath. “Fine. Come on, I’ll take you to Julia.”

      “How gracious of you, Miss …” He waited for her to fill in the rest.

      “Simone,” she said grudgingly.

      “Pleasure to meet you, Simone. I’m Sebastian.”

      Grabbing his canvas messenger bag from the backseat, he trailed after the teenager, who, despite the sweltering heat, was surprisingly energetic as she led him toward the covered porch of the clinic.

      It was a disgustingly hot day, and the sun had been beating down on Sebastian’s head during the entire drive over here, bringing beads of sweat to his forehead and making his threadbare T-shirt stick to his chest. Eventually he’d taken off the shirt and made the rest of the drive shirtless, drawing uneasy glances from several of the local women he’d passed on the side of the road.

      The folks around here weren’t used to seeing strangers in cars roaming the area. Valero was one of the poorer towns in San Marquez, just a small settlement at the base of the mountain. Lush greenery, rocky slopes and an abundance of tangled shrubbery marked the landscape, with gravel and dirt roads winding their way through the terrain like unwanted intruders. With a population of barely a thousand, the town of Valero was nothing more than dilapidated brick houses scattered about, isolated farms, a surprisingly busy marketplace and this Doctors International clinic located on the outskirts of town.

      “Julia’s in the back,” Simone said as they stepped through the paint-chipped double doors at the building’s entrance.

      The girl stuck to a brisk pace, but Sebastian still had enough time to scope out his surroundings as they ventured deeper into the medical facility. Although Doctors International specialized in visiting areas in dire need of medical care, setting up makeshift hospitals and then packing up and moving on, the organization did have some permanent clinics in place all over the globe. This was one of them, and Sebastian noted that the operation they had going here was professional and efficient.

      The hallways were dimly lit but clean. The waiting room he and Simone passed was small and cramped, but offered rows of plastic chairs and toys for the children waiting with their parents. Because the building was L-shaped, they had to take a sharp left and ended up striding down another long hallway. This one featured several closed doors, most likely exam rooms. Through a pair of swinging doors with small square windows, Sebastian glimpsed a large room containing dozens of hospital beds.

      “You get a lot of overnight patients?” he asked the teenager.

      She spared him a glance over her shoulder. “Sometimes. There’s always a few patients in the AIDS wing, but the general wing isn’t usually so full.”

      “But it is at the moment because of the malaria cases that have cropped up, right?”

      Simone tossed him another look, this one laced with suspicion. “How do you know about those cases?”

      “I’m a journalist,” he answered. “It’s my business to know everything.”

      The teenager halted, her hands landing on her slender waist. “You’re a journalist? No way.”

      Despite the fact that he was lying

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