...Tristan turned the corner and smashed into something big and hard. The impact pushed him back. He nearly fell, only managing to recover when a hand gripped his arm. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, so focused on his escape he barely noticed the person he’d run into.

He tried to keep walking but the hand tightened. Tristan halted, really looking at the man for the first time. The tall, handsome Latino didn’t smile. The navy slacks and white coat he wore labeled him a doctor, but Tristan had never seen him before. He had no name tag, but a pair of glasses and an ear thermometer stuck out of his chest pocket.

Dark eyes met his. The man tugged him toward the stairs at the end of the hall. “They’re just one floor below us now.”

A new thread of apprehension worked its way into Tristan’s already tangled web of thoughts and feelings. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew enough to feign ignorance. “What? The neonatal unit is on the floor below us. Do you need some help finding it?”

The unfamiliar doctor shook his head. “We don’t have time for this. You know who I mean. You can’t escape them.”

How does he know? Could this man be one of them? If not, how could he possibly know about Tristan’s pursuers? Fear and uncertainty struck Tristan speechless.

The doctor gave him an impatient look. “I know about the guys who are after you. I can help you, but you have to come with me. Now.”

This had to be a trap. But why would they bother, when they could catch him without going to so much trouble? Tristan’s head throbbed, and he reached up to rub his temple. He was running out of time. He had to get away.

Paralyzed by indecision, Tristan stood there staring at the other man.

“Oh, for God’s sake. Nobody mentioned you being an idiot, so I’m going to assume you’re confused.” Rolling his eyes, the man yanked Tristan’s arm hard enough that Tristan had no choice but to follow. He tugged Tristan down the hall to the stairwell and pushed the door open. He shoved Tristan through the door and met Tristan’s gaze with steady brown eyes. “All right, here’s the plan. I’ll go distract Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum while you go out this way. I’ll meet you outside in a few minutes.”

Before Tristan could ask the man how he intended to distract the men downstairs, the handsome Latino features blurred. Tristan blinked, and suddenly he was looking into a mirror. He gaped in astonishment at the sight of his own disheveled black hair, green eyes, pale skin, and slim build. Even the clothes the other man wore had changed to green scrubs identical to his.

“What? How?”

Watching his own lips turn up in a very un-Tristan-like smirk was a decidedly odd experience. “Don’t trouble your pretty little head, Doc. I’ll meet you outside in a few.”

At least the man’s voice had stayed the same. If the voice had been his as well, he would have wondered if he was going insane. With a wave, Tristan’s doppelganger headed back the way Tristan had come a few minutes ago.

As soon as the man had turned the corner, Tristan moved. He flew down the seldom-used stairs at a dead run. His heart pounded, more from nerves than from exertion. Could he trust the bizarre man who claimed to want to help him? If not, he might be putting himself in danger. Still, what choice did he have?

A hysterical laugh bubbled up in his throat as he reached the door leading to the back parking lot. Above all, he knew he could never let them take him. He knew what they would do to him. And what they’d make him do. His skin crawled at the thought. The strange man he’d met upstairs might be his only chance for escape—or a clever trap. There wasn’t any way for him to know which one.