Oh. This sounds… not great.
A cool touch slides along my inner arm, followed by a sharp sting. Something tugs at my skin, and the sensation drags me closer to full awareness. Not Lyre’s touch-someone else’s. Cold and strange-feeling.
“BP is 90. Heart rate stable at 64.”
An unfamiliar voice, clipped and professional.
“Okay, the IV’s in.”
“All right. Let’s push some fluids.”
Another stranger.
Kind of sounds like I’m in a hospital.
“Let’s get ready to move her.”
“You’re not taking her,”
Caine snaps.
Okay, maybe not a hospital. Oh. They probably called an ambulance. Now it makes sense.
“They can if they need to,”
Lyre argues.
Fenris whines.
My eyes flutter.
“She moved,”
Caine says immediately, tension vibrating through his voice.
“Grace?”
Play dead, I tell myself. Just five more minutes of unconsciousness before facing whatever catastrophe awaits.
But the light beyond my eyelids burns red through the thin membrane, and someone’s fumbling with my arm again, and everything feels wrong and strange and cold, and hiding isn’t an option anymore.
I peel my eyes open with a groan. The ceiling light stabs straight into my brain.
“Too bright,”
I croak, voice like sandpaper.
“She’s awake.”
Caine again, closer now. I might not be able to see, but I can sense him looming.
He’s a very looming kind of person.
The word looming is starting to sound weird after using it twice in a row. Even worse with the third.
“I’ll turn off the lights,”
Lyre offers, sounding further away than Caine.
A hand grabs mine, and I vaguely sense an inner movement as soon as the contact is made. It’s strange, like… Like someone’s turned on a faucet, and something inside of me is gushing out, directly to the point of skin contact-
Something beeps. A lot.
“Stop touching her, you idiot!”
“I was just trying to-“
“Sir, you need to step back.”
A growl.
My wish comes true, and unconsciousness takes me away again.
* * *
This time, when consciousness creeps back into my head, it’s quiet.
I tentatively open my eyes, breathing out a soft sigh when lights don’t stab into my eyeballs this time. There’s a faint amber glow illuminating the tiled ceiling above.
Now, for sure, I’m at a hospital.
A rustling sound catches my attention. I turn my head, the left side of my neck protesting, stiff from however long I’ve been laying here on a crinkly plastic pillow.
Lyre’s standing next to me, her rainbow hair mussed and wild. Her cat-slit eyes look exhausted, with dark circles underneath. She tilts her head, studying me in silence.
“Hi,”
I croak. My voice sounds like I’ve been gargling gravel. How long was I out?
“Hello there, sunshine.”
Lyre’s voice carries its usual musical lilt.
“How are you feeling?”
I try to swallow, but my throat feels like it’s filled with glass shards. I cough and try again, grimacing through the pain.
“Like someone ran me through a washing machine and hung me up to dry.”
A smile quirks at the corner of Lyre’s mouth.
“Well, at least you’re clean, then.”
She reaches for something out of my sight, then returns with a paper cup.
“Water?”
I nod and try to push myself up. My arms tremble with the effort, embarrassingly weak.
“Easy.”
Lyre slips a hand behind my shoulders, supporting me with surprising strength. Her touch is cool against my skin, which feels fever-hot and oversensitive.
“Small sips. Your system’s been through the wringer.”
The water slides down my throat like salvation. I hadn’t realized how parched I was until the first drop hit my tongue.
“Where’s-“
I start to ask, but Lyre cuts me off with a finger to her lips.
“He was kicked out. Can’t be within one hundred feet of the building, so he’s across the street, probably glaring at your window.”
I blink.
She shrugs.
“He deserved it.”
I believe her, but…
My gaze drifts around the room. It’s not a standard hospital room-no clinical white walls or plastic chairs. Instead, the space is warm, with natural wood accents and what looks like hand-woven fabric covering the walls. A string of small lights creates the gentle glow I’d noticed earlier.
“Where am I?”
“It’s a hospital. You’re in the special ward upstairs.”
Lyre’s lips quirk.
“The one for VIP supes.”
I blink again.
“I’m human.”
“Yeah, but he isn’t.”
Slowly, I tilt my head. I’m a little dizzy even from that movement.
“What does Caine have to do with what ward I’m on?”
“Well…”
Lyre scratches at her cheek.
“You know what? I’m going to let him answer that question.”
My eyes narrow at Lyre’s evasive answer.
“You can’t just drop that and walk away. What does Caine have to do with this?”
Lyre shrugs, the movement almost too casual.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.