Kit went over to the daybed Christian's lifeless body was laying on and then turned round towards Quentin shaking her head, "as I said, when I told you to take care of him, I didn't mean you should kill him!" She said reproachfully.

"Occupational hazard," he said nonchalantly , "do you have the stuff I asked you to bring?"

Kit nodded. She handed Quentin the required medicines, "if you ask me, he should be in hospital," she noted dryly after glancing at Christian's limy, clammy face.

"Do you have any other helpful ideas?" Quentin asked sarcastically.

"Yours weren't all that helpful so far either," she snapped back.

"Shut up Kit! If we wanna get what we want, we need to remain calm."

"Easy said," she groaned.

Quentin got a bag of iv ready and put the needle carefully into one of Christian's veins, "if this doesn't help, nothing will anyway," he sighed.

"What is it?" Kit asked curiously.

"A strong antibiotic. I hope his lung infection didn't escalate too far yet and we can get it under control with it."

"And what if not?"

"In that case he dies," Quentin gave the dispassionate answer.

Kit tossed her long dark brown hair back and walked around in the room folding her arms to her breast, "what have you done with him that he is such a state?" She asked reproachfully.

Quentin shrugged, "nothing."

Kit stroked Christian's face softly, "the man was once damn desirable before you bit him in the ass," she noted, "I should've known you will spoil everything," she rolled her eyes, "if I only think of what you have done with Kimber!"

"I am exactly in the middle of fixing that," Quentin said grinning.

"Really?" Kit lifted her eyebrows, "where is she then? I thought you were gonna pop up to see her."

"I tried," Quentin answered sighing, "but there was a vixen in the house who wouldn't let me up."

Kit scrunched her eyebrows, "who are you talking about?"

"The owner of that ramshackle hut I guess," Quentin drove his hand though his thick black hair sighing, "she meant they were not allowed male visitors," he rolled his eyes, "what was I supposed to do, mess around with her?" He shook his head, "it would've blown my cover."

Kit couldn't help it. She started to laugh clangourously, "that's a good joke! The Miami Carver is afraid of an old woman!"

"Miami Carver?" Quentin looked at her perplexed.

"Yes, do you know anything at all? You're famous," Kit got a newspaper out of her handbag and held it up to Quentin's nose, "read this!"

"The Miami Carver acts out his bad temper again," he read the headline up loud, "in the proximity of the city park a female body was found last Friday. After committed investigations the police determined that the assassin was the same man who burst in on a young woman a few weeks ago and wounded her with a knife. The young woman was the third murder of the Carver. The police is aware of his identity and is working on an intervention."

"You see, your cover is blown anyway," Kit said casually.

"What do you get for three murders?" Quentin asked hesitantly.

"Probably a life sentence," Kit shrugged, "I always told you not to go too far. The homicide of Rhea Reynolds was already one bit too much."

"She made fun of me," Quentin said, "I had to do something to object."

"And what was it with Abby Mays?" Kit asked dryly, "was it also necessary to kill her?"

"Sometimes things don't go according to plan," he said apologetically, "I didn't want to kill her. Believe me. She's not like Kimber at all," he sighed deeply.

"If you harm even a hair on her head once more, then..." Kit said angrily. She discontinued the sentence.

"What then little sister? Do you want to kill me?" Quentin laughed.

"Kimber belongs to me! Do you understand me? To me!" Kit tossed her long hair back again and looked at Quentin crossly.

He grinned, "understood. But she will hate you when she sees what we had done with her beloved Christian," he gave her something to think about.

Kit flung his doubts aside with an unimpressed hand gesture, "you make sure you manage to catch her! I don't care how, but I want her here."

Quentin scratched his chin wistfully, "that will not be that easy, now that my cover is blown and the whole police task force is after me."

"I don't care how you do it!" Kit said gruffly. She cast a pitiful glance at Christian, "I hope he survives a little bit longer. Otherwise it would be a very sad reunion of the two."

"I'll be back in about three hours," Quentin said and took his mask, "if not, you know what you have to do..." He left the sentence uncompleted.

Kit nodded. She pensively watched her brother leaving the room.