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“Yes,” she said, feeling groggy and confused. “I...you know my name?”
That wasn’t actually weird, of course she did. It was probably on all her patient information. She’d surely had her ID with her at the time of whatever accident she was in. But she didn’t seem...injured. She was sore, but she wasn’t bandaged or anything.
She touched her face just to be sure.
Not a bandage on there, and no blood or anything on the extremities she could see.
“Of course.” She raced over and began to look at the machine, and as she did she took her phone out of her pocket—a piece of tech that seemed incongruous with her old-fashioned outfit—and dialed a number quickly. “Yes, Doctor, she’s awake. Please come as quickly as you can.”
A hard knot of fear began to grow at the center of her chest.
“Is my being awake...a bad thing?” she asked.
“Not at all.” The nurse—Riot now assumed she was a nurse—looked down at her. “But it is a bit of a surprise.”
“Why?” Fear was now a desperate, living creature clawing at her chest. “Why is it a surprise?”
“Ms. Phillips... I should wait until the doctor gets here to speak more of it.”
The door opened again and Riot thought it must be the doctor.
But it wasn’t.
It was a man. Tall and broad, dressed in a black suit. His hair was jet black as a raven’s wing, his eyes nearly as dark. His skin bronzed, his cheekbones razor sharp, his nose a finely honed blade. He was striking in a way that stole her breath.
He was utterly singular and unique and yet...
And yet something echoed in her soul. A recognition.
But she had no idea who this man was. None at all.
She’d never seen him before in her life.
But when he stepped into the room she felt it. Like a seismic wave moving through her body. He brought with him a new pull to the earth, a shift in the stars.
He was power.
She knew it, intuitively. She didn’t have to know who he was to know that.
He was more than a man. He was...
A tiger.
That thought came from nowhere and whispered in her mind, in her soul. Goose bumps spread over her arms and she rubbed at them.
“Mr. Valenti, I don’t think—”
But one look from him and the nurse’s words fell into silence.
Then he looked back at her and if she hadn’t already been stuck in bed, his stare would have pinned her there.
“You are awake,” he said, his voice deep, with a beautiful accent that begged the listener to draw closer to him.
Even as everything in her screamed danger.
“Y-yes,” she said. “I am awake. As this woman here has observed. And called for help. But I’m not sure why it’s significant? Or why...or what happened. Or...or anything.”
One of his dark brows winged upward. “You don’t know what happened?”
