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"See? Not stupid," Ace said, giving Seven a stern look. "You gonna start this shit or what?" he asked, looking back at me.
I wanted to wait until the pain medicine kicked in. But there wasn't much time to waste.
I had to get to work.
Chapter Five
Ace
She was impressive once she got out of her head and onto the task at hand.
I'd seen all sorts of healers in the human realm. From women in their huts in the woods, doling out garlic and honey salves for infections to battlefield doctors giving men bullets to bite down on while they hacked away at their infected limbs with old, filthy saws. I hadn't witnessed a lot of modern medicine up close, though.
The nurse's moves were practiced and precise. No shaking hands. No second-guessing what she was meant to do. There was a set order of things and she went through it until, a few hours later, she climbed back off the bed, scrubs, arms, and gloved hands covered in blood and sweat.
"Okay. That's it," she said, taking a deep breath, letting it out shakily. "You have antibiotics?" she asked, looking over at me.
Aram and Seven had made their way out when Red stopped fighting the ministrations, likely heading to their beds as the sun started to streak in through the windows.
"Yes," I said, moving over toward the bag I'd brought in, finding the three separate bottles, and bringing them over to her. "I had no idea which was strongest."
"This one," she said, taking the bottle. "Does she have any allergies?"
"Not that I've seen," I told her, shrugging, finding my mind sluggish with lack of rest and the stress that had slipped in under my skin and set up house.
"Okay," she said, going over toward Red, removing the gag, and shoving the pill down her throat. "She's quieter," she said, going to reach out toward her face, but seeming to remember at the last second that when anyone put a hand on Red, she started screaming and fighting again. "Can we leave the gag off?" she asked, looking over at me. "I will be able to hear her if something is wrong then," she added.
"Yeah, fine," I agreed, nodding.
"Would it be possible if I could, um, you know," she said, waving a hand down at her bloodstained body.
"Yeah," I agreed, sighing, leading her toward the door and out into the hall. "Through here," I said, opening the door to the bathroom. "No," I snapped when she moved in then reached up to close the door. "The door stays open."
"I need to shower," she insisted, those brown eyes of hers going round.
"Yeah, tough shit," I said. "Shower with the door open, or don't shower at all."
Her teeth gritted at that.
There was no fucking logical reason not to let her close the door. The bathroom didn't even have a window, just a fan in the ceiling to let the hot air out.
"You can't be serious," she insisted, eyes starting to get glassy. I hadn't seen a woman cry in fucking ages. I found it oddly fascinating, even if I knew that wasn't the appropriate reaction. By human standards.
"Yet somehow I am. I can take you back to the room like that if you want."
Her lower lip trembled at that as the first tear slipped down her cheek.
I had the most uncharacteristic, asinine urge to move closer and catch that tear with my finger.
"P...please," she said, head lowering, gaze moving to the floor.
"Halfway," I agreed. I was not, ever, known as someone who compromised, who changed his mind.
Yet one little plea from a complete stranger, and I was going back on my word.
I just needed rest.
I was running on empty.
That was the only explanation.
"Thank you," she said, but refused to look at me as she turned and made her way toward the garbage, shucking off her gloves, then reaching inside the glass shower stall to turn on the water.
I watched for a minute longer than I had a right to as she pulled her scrub top upward to discard it on the floor, showing me a gently sloped back with a deep red bra band and what looked like some sort of tattoo at the back of her neck.
But I managed to shake myself out of it, closing the door halfway like I'd told her I would, then making my way back toward my room, going into the dresser to grab one of my long-sleeve tees. It was pointless to get her any pants. Anything I had would fall right off of her.
I would ask Lenore for something in the morning, but I was too tired to wake anyone else up and start demanding shit right then. She could make do with the shirt that would be more like a dress on her small frame.
With that, I grabbed a towel from the hall closet, and went into the bathroom.
