Page 28 of Monsters and Mocha

Darby groaned internally. Of course, she would be here. As if this day couldn’t get any worse.

“Or did you leave him at the hospital for further treatment?” Lacey practically spat the words as she crossed her arms and shot Darby an accusatory look.

She froze, a warning ringing in her ears louder than the church bells. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lacey closed the distance between them with measured steps. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re up to something. I recognized your friend’s face. He’s bounced back awfully quick from his injuries, wouldn’t you say?”

A chill that had nothing to do with the weather swept through Darby’s veins, but she managed to maintain her composure. “What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything.” Lacey leaned forward into her space. “I’m just marveling at how quickly a critically injured man seems to be back up and on his feet, almost as if someone was taking advantage of an emergency to sneak in patients and falsify their treatment records to make themselves look better than they are.”

The idea was so ridiculous that, had the accusation not sat so close to the truth, Darby would have laughed. She crossed her arms, mirroring Lacey’s stance. “Yes, exactly. I’m bringing in patients from the street and pretending to treat them and wasting valuable hospital resources. Please, present your findings to the Academy. I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to spend their time chasing down previous patients to verify that they were, in fact, in need of care. Or maybe,” she continued, lowering her voice. “Maybe I’m just good at my job. Speaking of which, weren’t you the one who told me you were working today? Not much eye care that can happen at a coffeehouse.”

Lacey’s jaw worked back and forth as her eyes narrowed. “That internship should have been mine. And once the Academy and the Guild of Medicine catch wind of this, it will be.”

Darby dropped her arms as exhaustion reared its head and pulled at her bones. She stepped into the alley. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the position you wanted, Lacey, but it was the Academy’s choice. I had nothing to do with it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment with a long-overdue nap.”

She turned before Lacey could say anything else and made her way down the alley with all the confidence she could muster.

I suppose it’s time I take Fransten up on his offer. If she’s already asking questions…

Darby glanced over her shoulder at the place where she had left Lacey standing. The sidewalk was empty, but a slow, prickling feeling of awareness, as if she were being watched, crept up her spine.

…it’s only a matter of time before someone else starts. The last thing Fitz needs is to be hunted down like a monster.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

FITZ

The cold seeped into Fitz’s bones as he wandered, making his movements more and more sluggish the further he went. His thoughts and emotions were a confused jumble, tumbling over themselves and changing from one moment to the next.

He was angry at Darby, and he was angry at himself for being angry.

She was just trying to help. It’s what she does.

But what’s the point of being alive if I can no longer serve a purpose? She re-made me, but for what?

He was a soldier without orders, a ship lost at sea. The life he had known before was no longer a possibility. The discharge papers were probably already on their way from the capital. Even if he exposed Darby’s secret, the likelihood of him being accepted again as an officer were slim at best.

You wouldn’t have been able to serve if you had died, he argued with himself.

No, but I wouldn’t have had to live through it, either.

A crack of thunder shook the sky overhead, and tiny raindrops began to pelt his face. Fitz looked up to find himself on an unfamiliar street. The buildings were small and crowded together, and trash littered the sides of the road. Despite the rather bleak surroundings, the warm glow of firelight shone out from the dull, dirty windows, and he could hear the sound of music and singing from down the street. He turned to go just as the skies opened, dropping a deluge of water.

“Hey! You there!”

A deep, grizzled voice called from the building to his left. A man with a dark, unkempt beard stood in an open doorway, beckoning him in. “Come in before you catch your death of a cold.”

He wasted a moment in indecision.

He has no idea what he’s inviting in. He’s just as likely to throw me back out here.

“Come on, son. Miss Shelton will kill me if I let you die after all the effort she’s put into you.”

It was the mention of Darby that had his feet moving in the man’s direction. By the time he slowly climbed the front steps, Fitz was soaked to the skin and his bones ached with cold. The man shut the door behind him. “Go sit in front of the fireplace while I look for something dry. Don’t worry about getting the furniture wet; Deus knows it’s already seen better days.”

Fitz looked around the small room in a daze while he followed directions and planted himself in a chair before the fire. Everything around him was a hodgepodge of colors and styles, the only unifying theme in the furniture or decor was that nothing matched. The chair he occupied was a deep burgundy color, though the seat and arms were faded to a threadbare pink. A rocking chair with thin spindles in the back and arms sat across from him, and a long, green couch beside it. Quilted blankets and pillows appeared to be trying to make up for the lack of fluff in any of the cushions, and a braided rug on the floor formed tight spirals of brown and white.