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He laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied. “I can’t promise Ward won’t, though.”
“Blind dates are my own personal definition of ‘nightmare,’” I admitted. It was weird talking about dating with Doc. It was weird talking about dating at all. I think the last time I’d had any sort of conversation about my personal life that wasn’t just avoiding my mother’s not-so-subtle hints was with Elliot—because I don’t talk to anybody else about it—and it had ended with me swearing off dating permanently.
I hadn’t really meant it, but that’s kind of what had ended up happening anyway.
Once upon a time, I’d actually tried the whole dating scene thing. But, well, I’m an asshole, so it didn’t tend to work out terribly well for me. People don’t want to date an asshole, and I can’t really say that I blame them. But I’m hot, so people want to date me, but they don’t want to dateme.
It stressed me the fuck out.
“I was never a fan, myself,” Doc said, continuing the thread about blind dates. “Although I would bet you anything you never had a date who literally screamed the first time they saw you.”
I couldn’t help the bark of laughter that came out. “You didn’t tell him you were an orc?”
Doc smirked, lips twisting around his lower canines. “Let’s call it a character test.”
“Shit, that’s rough. Like. You don’t know what someone looks like, you gotta go in expecting anything.”
“Apparently I was not expected.”
“Yeah, well, it ain’t all sunshine and rainbows on the pretty side of the fence, either,” I told him. “Although you would be correct that no one has ever screamed upon meeting me.”
* * *
By the timethey were done with Taavi, Doc and I had drunk all the cocoa, moved back into the waiting room with his pack of cards, played multiple rounds of Texas hold-em and three card stud, and knew each other a lot better than we had a few hours before.
“Detective Hart?” One of the veterinary technicians came out, and I looked up sharply, the hand—which had steadied out during my bonding session with Doc—holding my cards starting to shake again. Doc reached out and took the cards from me.
“Go,” he said softly.
I stood and walked over to the vet tech, who nodded, which immediately made me feel about a million times better.
“Dr. Zhou will be done cleaning up in little bit. Normally we don’t have folks come back, but he said we’d make an exception for you.”
I nodded, swallowed a couple times before it took, then thanked him. Doc waved a hand at me, so I followed the tech back through a room of decent-sized little cages on the wall, several of them with furry occupants lounging on blankets or pillows. It wasn’t exactly a private hospital recovery room.
“Down there,” my escort told me, gesturing toward another tech, who was crouched down next to one of the bigger kennels on the ground level, the door open. She looked up at me, then smiled, her dark eyes crinkling over her pink surgical mask. “Detective Hart?”
I nodded, and she scooted over to let me join her near the floor.
“Ana Ramirez,” she introduced herself, and held out a hand, which I shook, a little self-conscious about the tremor in my hand and the clamminess of my skin. Next to mine, her skin was a tawny gold, her hair and eyes black and bright. She was some sort of Arcanid or Arc-human, although I couldn’t tell what. “I assisted on Taavi’s surgery today,” she said. “He’s doing really well. Should wake up sometime in the next half hour. Jin—Dr. Zhou—thought it would be better if you were here when he does.”
I nodded again. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Just call me over if anything seems wrong. He’ll be groggy when he wakes up, but as long as he’s calm and can sit still—and doesn’t vomit—there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Doesn’t the anesthesia make people—animals—whatever—nauseous?”
“It can,” she answered. “So we give our patients anti-nausea meds intravenously before they wake up. Just like in human surgery.” She smiled again with her eyes. “He should be okay, which is why I need to know if he isn’t. It might not be a big deal, but at the very least we need to make sure he doesn’t aspirate it if he does vomit.”
“Oh. Right. Okay.”
She patted my arm. “I’m sure everything will be just fine.”
I swallowed. “Yeah. Thanks. Did Dr. Zhou…”
“He’ll talk to you both when Taavi’s awake and a little more… alert,” she answered, before standing and crossing the room.
I guess that answered the question of whether or not she was aware that Taavi wasn’t human. Which probably meant she was a Nid of some sort—most Arcs can’t tell a Nid from a normie without the obvious signs—fur, fangs, or weird saggy flesh. And in his not-so-furry dog suit, Taavi wouldn’t scan as anything but a dog to someone who couldn’t sense or smell him.
