Sweat beads on her brow, and I blot it gently with the cool cloth.
He kneels beside the bed, taking her hand in his and pressing a kiss to her palm. “I didn’t… I thought…”
“It’s not your fault, Baz. It could’ve happened to anyone.”
“But it happened to her. I shouldn’t have left her alone.”
“She’s a skilled climber and outdoors-woman. She’s perfectly capable of handling herself out there. This was an accident, plain and simple.”
“Or a targeted mage attack.”
“Either way, it was out of your control.”
He nods, but I can tell he’s not buying it.
“Baz, if anyone deserves the blame in this, it’s me. I’m the one who brought her to the Academy.”
“And Anna’s the one who wanted her here, and her mother’s the one who left the prophecies that no one else could translate, and we could go all the way back to the dawn of time looking for someone to blame, but what’s the point?”
I offer a smile. “I believe you just made it.”
His stern face finally cracks, and he finally releases the breath I’m fairly certain he’s been holding since we found her hours ago.
He kisses her hand once more, then gets to his feet. “I’ll give the guys the update.”
“Everyone still here?”
“We’re not leaving until we know she’s in the clear.”
“Good.”
Alone with her again, I pace her bedroom, trying to focus on something other than my worry for her. The Tarot Aces hang above her bed, the Academy-issued furniture and window treatments decorating the space, and I wonder if she’ll ever feel at home here. The room is full of her scent, like honeysuckles after a gentle rain, but other than some lotions and perfumes she must’ve purchased at the Promenade and a few photographs and other items Anna left for her, the space is strangely impersonal.
The thought opens a hole in my chest. I wish it could’ve been different for her. For all of us.
But that’s not our lot, in this life or the next.
“What… what happened?” a small voice emanates from the bed, and I’m back at her side in an instant, taking her hand in mine.
“Stevie?”
Her eyes open slowly, and she lifts a hand to my face. Exhaustion weighs heavy in her movements, but her fever has broken, and her gaze is clear once again.
“You completely mortified me in front of the whole class yesterday,” she says, her words still slurred.
I hold back a laugh. I should’ve guessed she’d choose her first coherent words to give me hell.
But then she pats my cheek and smiles, and my heart melts. “I thought we were friends, Doc.”
“You know you’re not supposed to call me that,” I say gently, damn near mesmerized by the candlelight glittering in her eyes. Here in the privacy of her bedroom, in the intimacy of the moment, I allow myself to break my own rules and press a kiss to her palm, just like Baz did.
“How do you feel?” I ask.
“Like someone who got bit by a fucking rattlesnake.”
I let out a soft chuckle. “At least you’re coherent enough to remember what happened.”
“Did they have to amputate?” She tugs the blanket aside to look at her leg. Other than the last bit of swelling, it’s almost impossible to tell she was bitten.
