“You somehow managed to avoid a concussion, but the power drain from that spell was massive. And your arm should have been treated here, not in the field.” He flipped through her chart, avoiding eye contact. He was keeping something from her.
Her right arm lay strapped against her chest so she pushed herself up with the left. The arm was blessedly numb. Juliana figured it was mostly healed already, but if Doc wanted to make sure she felt no pain, she wasn’t going to argue with him. She’d had enough of that for a few days. She swung her legs off the bed and sat on the edge to get her bearings.
“Take it easy. You aren’t fully recovered yet. You’ll be weak for a couple of days at least.”
He was overestimating her recovery time. At least she hoped he was. She healed fast. She ran a hand over her face in an attempt to wipe the weariness away, but it didn’t help. Fatigue penetrated to her very bones. No part of her wanted to move. She squeezed her eyes shut then opened them as wide as she could. Anything to feel more alert. A coffee IV wouldn’t have been remiss at that point. “Just how extensive was this power drain? And what can you give me to fix it?”
“Not everything has a quick fix,” he snapped at her. “That spell leached an enormous amount of energy off you. I’m surprised you’re even sitting here talking to me.” His voice turned quiet, reluctant. “The agent who triggered the spell died hours ago and his exposure was much shorter than yours.”
Her chest tightened at that bit of news. She didn’t even know the guy’s name but she’d done her best to save him. She never understood why humans wanted to work for the Agency. There was a time when they hadn’t been allowed, but an anti-discrimination lawsuit killed that policy. Now plain, ordinary humans were allowed to sign up and go through the program to become agents. Their life expectancy was decidedly short once they finished training.
“What about me? Did I die?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, she glanced over her shoulder at him.
He studied her for a moment, his salt-and-pepper goatee twitching in agitation. “I’ve never understood how you can be so blasé about that.”
She shrugged one shoulder. It was better to pretend it didn’t bother her. If they knew the truth she’d be waiting on psych clearances more than she was in the field. “I’m resilient and that doesn’t answer my question.”
He ran a hand through his hair and tossed her chart on the table. “Not this time, but it was close. When they brought you in your heart rate was fifteen beats per minute. It remained steady until about an hour ago when it returned to normal.”
Thank the gods. She hated when she died, especially when she didn’t remember it. So far the count was three. If she was limited to nine lives like a cat, she was going to be seriously screwed in a few years. She rubbed a hand across the back of her neck and sighed. “I’ve got to talk to Ben,” she said and stood. Her knees buckled as they took her weight and she caught herself on the table with her elbow.
Doc grabbed her other arm and pulled her upright. He kept his hand there until it was evident she wasn’t going to keel over. “You almost died, Juliana. Surely you can take a break for, oh I don’t know, ten minutes or so?” The bitterness in his voice surprised her and she studied him. He dropped his head and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, but you have no idea how tired I am of patching you guys up only to have you back in here a day or two later. You just keep putting yourself in danger, damn the consequences.”
Her mouth curled in a smile. “It’s kind of our job. Besides, you haven’t lost me yet.”
“Yes, we have. More than once.” He shook his head. “And when you do recover, we don’t have anything to do with it. We just assess and treat, then stick you in a corner to see if you come around or not. I’ve tried to figure it out, to discover the science or the magic behind it and I can’t. It’s odd.”
Nothing made her day quite like having her oddities pointed out. It was time to go.
“Juliana,” he said, stopping her when she got to the door. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I just don’t like not knowing what’s going on with my patients.”
She thought for a moment, not wanting to make promises she couldn’t keep. “I’ll try to be careful, but I have to go after Nathaniel.”
She walked out of the room without waiting for a response. The cool tile under her feet reminded her she was barefoot and in scrubs. Juliana didn’t care as long as it wasn’t a gown. She and the doc had a rather loud discussion about it the first time he treated her. She’d woken up in scrubs ever since. She tried not to think too much about how she got into them or how much was on display in the process.
She would find Nathaniel and bring him back, of that she had no doubt. She just wasn’t sure the condition he would be in when she did. The odds were against her. Fewer than ten percent of hosts survived intact. Fewer than thirty percent survived at all. But she’d never been one to play the odds.
The waiting room for the infirmary lay on the path to Ben’s office. Not only would Jeremiah be there, so would his wife and both boys. Jeremiah might not look a day over thirty but he’d been married to Anna for seventy years. And his boys were in their fifties.
Hushed whispers drifted out of the room. She couldn’t make out the words, but she picked up the worried tone easy enough. She stepped into the doorway and leaned against the frame. They were so focused on each other they didn’t notice her. The boys sat at one of the pale blue tables playing cards while Jeremiah and Anna occupied two of the bright orange chairs lined up against the pea green wall. The color combination made her eyes hurt. The Agency really needed to hire new decorators.
Jeremiah slumped forward, his head cradled in his hands. Anna rubbed circles on his back with one thin hand. “She’ll be okay, my love. She always is.” Something about the way she said the words told Juliana it wasn’t the first time they’d passed Anna’s lips. A fist of regret lodged in Juliana’s breastbone.
She accepted the risks her job brought with it, the price she had to pay on occasion to bring in her target, but she hated what it did to those who loved her. While the list was small, the people on it were fiercely loyal and every time she hurt, so did they.
Jeremiah shook his head without looking up. “One time I’m going to get to her too late and she won’t be. It’s been over a day.”
Her jaw clenched at that bit of news. All kinds of unpleasantness had probably gone on while she took her extended nap. She wanted to argue with Jeremiah’s grim assessment of her future, but she couldn’t. He was right. Besides, he’d worn a lot of her blood. He’d earned the right to freak out a little when it came to her.
“Gods, Jeremiah. Don’t you ever sleep? You look like crap,” Juliana said.
All four of them locked gazes on her. There was a moment’s pause and then they swarmed her. “Easy,” she warned the brothers when they went to wrap her in their usual bear hugs. Despite their gentleness, pain coursed through her body with every jostle. She forced her face to remain relaxed, to let none of the discomfort show. They’d be devastated if they thought they’d hurt her.
The boys stepped back. Anna placed her hands on the sides of Juliana’s face and looked into her eyes. “All right then?”
“All right.”
Juliana pretended not to see the sheen of tears in Anna’s eyes as they hugged.
Jeremiah took her place when she moved away. He said nothing, just stood in front of Juliana and looked at her. She stepped forward to lay her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. He was always so warm. All fire elementals were, for obvious reasons. He held her for a long moment with no one saying anything, but she felt the tremble in his hands.
Anna once told her that she was as much a part of the family as their own children. Juliana thought about how many times Jeremiah had brought her here hurting or half-dead and how many times these same four people were waiting for her when she woke up. Tears lodged in her throat and she swallowed them back down. She stepped back to keep from crying.