The smile faded from Jane’s face as her eyes rolled back into her head, leaving me only the whites to stare into. Her legs gave out and I balanced her on the armrest of the couch to keep her from falling. “Stay with me, Jane.”
The blood loss had made her light-headed. I eased her back on to the couch and ran to the fridge to grab a carton of orange juice. My medical expertise might be lacking, but with my psychometry-induced hyperglycemia, I knew O.J. might be enough to bring Jane around.
I tipped her head back and placed the carton at her lips. Her eyes fluttered as the juice hit her tongue and she began drinking greedily.
“Easy,” I told her. “What happened? What do you recall?”
She gasped for breath as I pulled the near empty carton away.
“Thank you soooo much,” she said, the life returning to her.
Her face looked a thousand times better and her eyes were alive again, though still a little glassy from the painkillers. They bore into mine, and without warning, she kissed me. My first thought was of juice. Her tongue tasted like juice. After that, all other thoughts left me. The idea of this being taboo lurked somewhere at the back of my mind, but clearly my own eager urges had taboo pinned safely out of my brain’s way.
My hand traced the back of her neck, my fingers running through her hair. Our bodies moved closer, toppling back onto the couch, and I felt the warmth of her body underneath mine. She jerked with a sudden convulsion.
“Owwww!” she hissed as she bit my tongue mid-probe. “My hip. I think it might be broken.”
In that instant I recovered my senses and slid off her. She was half doped up, for God’s sake. “Sorry, I shouldn’t French with the forces of evil.”
“Don’t be,” she said, not taking offense. I helped her sit back up. I glanced at her briefly, and this time, she was careful not to look too deep into my eyes. “Don’t you want to know why I was here?”
“Later,” I said. “I think we both have some ’splainin’ to do, but first we need to get you to a hospital.”
Immediately there was terror in her eyes. “You can’t!”
“Jane, you’ve got to get medical attention…all I’ve got is juice.”
“It’s just…” she started, but couldn’t speak. “I can’t let Faisal or the Sectarians know I got hurt this bad. I’ll never live it down. They’ll fire me…or worse.”
In all the madness, I hadn’t considered what the Sectarians might do to someone who had failed. Especially someone as fresh-faced as her.
“Take me home,” she said. Under other circumstances, I might have been thrilled to hear those words from her lips. Now was not one of those times.
“Right,” I said, nodding. “Sure.”
Now that I was coming to my senses, I wanted to get her out of here should Irene suddenly reappear. She had seemed…strange, and I didn’t know how she would react to finding Jane in the apartment.
“My apartment is at-”
“I know where you live, Jane,” I interrupted. She looked at me quizzically. “Like I said, I think we both have some ’splainin’ to do.”
I scooped one arm around her and started for the door. As an afterthought, I grabbed the Other Division emergency kit the Inspectre had given me months ago. I was pretty sure that escorting the enemy from your home before she died certainly counted as an emergency.
If I was lucky, I’d get her out of here without further incident. If I was unlucky, Faisal and his people would be waiting for us.
19
Although it was late, it was still New York and I found a cab fairly quickly. The cab driver didn’t even blink while I arranged the battered and bloody Jane in the back of his cab. I got in beside her as she rattled off her Chelsea address and then she closed her eyes. I let her rest, riding in sleepy silence until we reached her apartment building. Because Jane had left a small pool of blood on the seat, I tipped the cabbie generously. I made sure the coast was clear of anyone looking particularly evil outside her building, then carried Jane across her lobby, into her elevator, and up to her apartment. I pushed aside the pile of clothes on her bed to lay her down properly. Finally she looked moderately comfortable, despite how banged up she was.
As I arranged her pillows behind her, her eyes fluttered open and she smiled.
“How you holding up?” I asked.
She reached out to me and squeezed my hand in reassurance. Her speech was slurred, but she said, “Right now, I’m just concentrating on the intense amount of pain I’m in. More importantly, I was wondering if you thought I was a decent kisser.”
I pulled my hand away from hers. I should never have kissed her. She was the enemy.
“I don’t get it on with evil,” I said. “Remember?”
I decided to change the subject from snogging to something more constructive.
“Look,” I said, softening. “I know I’m on the wrong side of your evil fence, Jane, but do you want to tell me how you got all battered like this?”
Thanks to Wesker and the Inspectre, I knew what had happened, but I wanted to see what she could recall or, more to the point, what she would truthfully tell me and how much I could trust her.
Jane smiled back at me and said, “When I was a kid, I used to love that stomach-dropping sensation you get from rides at an amusement park, you know? After that fall? Not so much. I should be dead.”
Her damaged upper arm was matted with blood and bits of garbage from the alley. I tore the remaining bits of sleeve free from it. “What do you remember about the fall?”
She winced as I lifted her arm to clear away the cloth. “I remember skidding down the brick face and getting that scrape you’re working on. I lost all sense of direction, but I made out the fire escape whirling by and reached for it. It caught me in the stomach and drove the wind right out of me. Then I was falling again and landed in your trash. Comfy trash, by the way. Smell pretty, don’t I?”
I brushed her hair out of her face.
“I’ve smelled worse,” I said.
“I knew whoever cut the line would come looking for me,” she said, “but I couldn’t even move. Then my instincts kicked in.”
I opened the Other Division emergency kit. There were dozens of items in it, none of them familiar, but thankfully each of them was labeled meticulously and included full instructions. There were several rolls of what I thought were gauze, but looking closer, they appeared more like human fingers wrapped in funereal bandages.
Mummy Fingers,the label read.In case of emergency, place against damaged surface and let them go to work. Warning: Do not use over nose and mouth. Consult an Arcana Specialist if misapplied.
I placed one against Jane’s arm and it started to writhe like a snake as the bandage uncoiled and rolled securely around her arm. Jane kept talking, seemingly unaware of what was happening to her arm, but I was seriously creeped out.
“Lights came on all along the alley,” she said, “and I could make out the sounds of commotion up above. I couldn’t call Mr. Bane for help. My cell phone had been crushed completely.”
I pulled off one of her boots, but when I tried the other, it was swollen tight around her sprained ankle. I moved as gently as I could, but she yelped in pain when I finally forced it free. She started to cry.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I tried to be as gentle as I could.”
She shook her head and laughed through her tears. “It’s not that. I was thinking about that rumor about my predecessor at the League, the one they fed to a man-eating filing cabinet for screwing up? The thought that I might be next in line doesn’t really improve my morale. Look at me. I’m battered, bruised, I smell, and my mission is totally a failure in almost every possible respect.”