FoM02 Trammel (18 page)

She was right, and Noah exhaled heavily, surrendering. Now that she wasn’t trying to screw him, she reminded him of Rose, the same bluntness and efficiency and unapologetic manipulations. She left the room and came back moments later. Time for more morphine. Good. It was getting harder by the minute not to break down.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Yeah. Make it quick.” Noah opened his eyes to see her pulling on gloves. The plastic tray with the drugs and syringes was all laid out on the bed. He didn’t want to get to where he was begging for it.

“Vivian told me something...” She swabbed the bottle and the IV port with a sterile wipe. “Lindsay’s going to freak the fuck out, so I didn’t tell him. I don’t want to. He already hates me.”

“What is it? Stop.” Noah tried to gesture and ended up with a feeble scrape of his bandaged hand on the sheets.

Kristan took a slow breath and let it out. “Dane never made it back. He’s gone.” She paused while she filled the syringe with the right dose.

“Gone, as in...? How does she know?” Noah’s instinct was to sit up, but his conscious mind smacked it down and he was forced to lie helpless in the face of the news.

“I just know that’s what she said when she told me we couldn’t go home. He never came back. They don’t know where he is. He’s gone.” Kristan cast a frightened glance at him as she changed his IV bag.

“I’m not going to be the one to tell Lindsay.”

“No.” Noah could see that would to be a bad choice. “I will. After the healer.” He shouldn’t wait, but he needed to be in one piece—or close to it—to deal with the aftermath. “It was my fault anyway, I’m sure.” He could do math.

“Don’t say that.” Kristan slid the needle through the membrane on the IV port and pushed slowly, dumping morphine into the line. “It wasn’t your fault. Dane’s a big boy.”

“Easy for you to say.” A golden glow was already seeping into Noah’s veins.

“Because I’m right. Don’t let them put any bullshit on you, Noah.” Kristan started to clean up. “Dane made his choices. So did Lindsay. You didn’t have a thing to do with it.”

Noah would have argued, but he didn’t want to waste a moment of feeling this good. “Sure,” he mumbled. “Hope everyone else agrees.” Suddenly, he wasn’t looking forward to the healer the way he had been. There was more of the same hell on the other side of healing. They were going to have to go through.

Going around wasn’t an option from here.

The glow only lasted so long, but if Noah breathed shallowly and didn’t move, he could string it out for another hour. He tried not to wonder where Lindsay was, getting tense made it worse. Blessedly, he dozed, aware of sleeping and yet not awake enough to experience all the pain he was in.

Footsteps cut into his carefully constructed haze. Lindsay’s footsteps. Noah made himself stay still.

Moving would make him sorry, and he wanted a little more good before he had to tell Lindsay what had happened to Dane.

“The doctor’s here.” Lindsay came to stand beside the bed. “Noah, this is Dr. Rajan. She’s here to help.”

Noah waited until Rajan came into his line of sight, narrowing his eyes to focus on her. A mage, then, and a doctor. “Good. It’ll be a day too soon if I never have to see a bedpan again.” He was done being helpless. It felt different than when they’d tried to heal him before, when he’d begged them not to do it, to let him die.

“Be grateful,” Lindsay said dryly, stepping back to let the doctor see him. “Beppe could’ve insisted on a catheter.”

“Been there, done that.” Noah wanted to laugh, but it would hurt. “What now?”

“No bedpans.” Dr. Rajan put her bag down and took out a vial of hand sanitizer. “I’ll see how strong you are, and we’ll go from there.”

“I’m strong enough.” Noah’s stomach clenched at the idea that she would leave without making all this pain go away. There wasn’t time for him to lie around being hurt. Lindsay was going to need him.

“I’ll decide that.” She looked over her shoulder at Lindsay. “The pain medication you said you had isn’t here. Can you get that for me? I need to double-check what you’re using. Also towels and cloths and clean water. Please bring up the white box from my trunk, as well.”

Lindsay nodded. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and Noah knew it was more for him than the doctor.

“May I?” Dr. Rajan reached out to draw back the covers.

“Go ahead.” It wasn’t like dozens of people hadn’t seen him in various states of damage and undress already, since he’d first fucked it all up.

“I don’t think we need to pretend this is your first rodeo,” she said, pulling away the covers. She was gentle, loosening the sheets where they stuck without hurting him too much.

“No, it’s not.” More shame. That was what he needed. It was his fault that things had been difficult the first time, even though he couldn’t change who and what he was. He still wasn’t over being angry at his father for not listening when Abram took him from the hospital where the mundane physicians had decided there was nothing else they could do to save him.

Rajan stripped him bare and went over him with a clinical expression that never flinched. Her hands traced lines on his body, following a map only she could see. Noah knew she wasn’t looking at his physical body but at the other one, the one that was so much harder to heal.

He had been at death’s threshold more than once and tried to step across every time so Elle wouldn’t be alone there, but no one would let him go. Not his magic, not his father, not even Rose. His body couldn’t cross over, his magic held the life in it, but his heart and soul had tried ceaselessly to reach her. There was no healing him without their cooperation, no matter how the healers fought him. It had been a long walk back to the land of the living for his heart and soul, and there had been no reason for the journey until Cyrus had said the words:
this one is yours.

“You look well.” There wasn’t any sarcasm in Dr. Rajan’s voice. She inspected his feet, touching pressure points and meridians. Finally, she looked almost optimistic.

A light tap-tap on the door signaled Lindsay’s arrival. He slipped in, carrying a stack of towels and a box filled with amber-colored bottles. “Kristan will be in with the water and that box in a minute.”

“Thank you, dear.” Dr. Rajan straightened and went to her bag, where she began rummaging around.

“Put it down on the table. Then you can say goodbye to your friend and get yourself downstairs for a bit.

Maybe go for a walk.”

Lindsay didn’t look happy about it, but he set the towels and box on the table and came over to the bed. He touched the side of Noah’s head, cool and gentle on Noah’s hot skin, and looked down at him, a frown furrowing his pale brow.

“Will it make a difference if I tell you to get well?” The frown softened slightly and he gave Noah a tentative smile.

“Can’t hurt.” Trying to smile back to reassure Lindsay, that hurt.

“Then get well.” Lindsay hesitated before leaning over and kissing Noah on the temple where his skin was still whole. “For me, if you don’t want to do it for yourself.”

“I will.” Noah couldn’t do less. Lindsay had chosen to save him and had lost Dane as a result. Noah couldn’t let that go.

“I’ll be outside.” Lindsay wrapped his arms around himself, trying to give himself some comfort that way, without Dane or Noah to do it for him. He turned and left the room quickly.

Noah didn’t want him to go, but he understood. The last thing they needed was to get Lindsay’s magic knotted up with his own and healed into him. It would take someone like Rose, or someone even stronger, to get them undone. Now was not the time for that kind of mistake.

“Okay, here’s your stuff.” Kristan came in with her arms full—a case of water bottles on top of a white box. “Whatever it is.”

“Only what I need.” Rajan pointed at the floor by the bed. “Right there. And get yourself some gloves.”

The look on Kristan’s face made Noah laugh out loud, and he regretted it immediately when he started to cough.

“Enough of that.” Rajan came over and put one hand on his chest, one on the back of his neck. They felt like they were covered in tiny needles, and she pushed against his skin. The cough faded and Noah could feel his throat and lungs opening. “I can’t have you coughing like that while I’m working.

You...Kristan. Pull a bag and a carton of cleaning wipes out of the white box.”

“I’m doing what with this?” Kristan shook out a bag with a biohazard symbol on it.

“Well, there will be a loss of damaged flesh,” Rajan said. “It needs to be disposed of, it’s not safe to leave things like that where they can be found and used.”

The look Kristan gave Noah was pure evil. “
Flesh?
”

“It’s not good for anything and it’s got to go somewhere.” Rajan had a syringe in her hand, full of a clear fluid. “This is going to hurt. It’ll counteract the morphine. Screaming doesn’t bother you, does it, dear?” She glanced at Kristan before coming to Noah’s side.

“She doesn’t mind, trust me.” Noah held his arm out for the shot. As much as he didn’t want to hurt, it had to be done. Rajan injected it through the IV port and patted his shoulder.

“It’ll be over before you know it. I promise.”

The antidote worked fast. Time wasn’t the same when you were in agony. Noah clenched his jaw, determined not to let Kristan have the satisfaction of seeing his pain, even if he did deserve it for going off on her.

“It’ll be okay.” Kristan’s voice was as reassuring as he’d ever heard it. He turned his head enough to see her standing on the other side of the bed. “She’s really good.”

Noah couldn’t speak, he was struggling to keep his breathing steady. Rajan’s hands were on his and he could hear her saying something. The piercing needles of her magic sank into his hands, and he was sure he wasn’t managing to be quiet anymore.

Under all the pain, though, Rajan’s magic woke his, and he felt his fire rise to fuel whatever engine drove the healing needles deep into him. He clenched Rajan’s hands and his skin split open with a rush that

could only be described as pleasure. Kristan hadn’t been wrong. As the pain became unbearable, again and again, his fire and his need to survive drove through it and he healed. Every time his body shed another layer of damage, his consciousness turned inward, drawing her healing down into him, into the places that still bled inside.

Lindsay sat on the front step, the chill of the concrete seeping into his bones. He hardly noticed the discomfort. He was listening to the roar of cars on the nearby freeway and trying not to think about what was happening to Noah.

Screams brought Lindsay to his feet again and again, but each time, he didn’t go farther than putting his hand on the door. Rajan had sent him out for a reason, and every time he stood, Lindsay remembered she’d been right to do it.

It had been eerily quiet for a long time when the door popped open behind him.

“You can come in.” Kristan sounded decidedly unimpressed. “Also, that was disgusting and I’m not doing it again.”

Lindsay was through the door almost before she finished talking. Noah was alive and the healing had worked, or Kristan wouldn’t have been so calm, Lindsay told himself, rushing up the stairs and down the hall to the room they’d given to Noah. He pushed the door open without knocking and stepped inside.

“He’s sleeping.” Dr. Rajan was stuffing sheets into a biohazard bag. “He’ll wake up when he’s ready.”

Noah was sprawled on clean sheets, belly down. His skin was whole and glossy, darker, a red-bronze shade that gleamed as though the fire had only burnished him. His hair had grown in, as well, enough to catch the light—soft red and gold. Lindsay could see that his hands were perfect again, except for the missing finger that had resisted being healed.

Lindsay was almost limp with relief, but he couldn’t trust it yet. Not until he heard it from the healer.

“He’s going to be all right?”

“He’s fine now,” Rajan said. She sealed the bag and put it with two others. “No complications associated with his past injuries. His magic is exceptionally strong. At his age, he’s not going to adjust to it if he hasn’t already. You’ll need to find a way to limit him. I use the patient’s magic to help heal them, as well as my own, and that was a walk in the park for me.”

“It wasn’t...” Lindsay stopped. Too much detail wasn’t safe. “It’s difficult to explain, but it wasn’t his fault. I’ll keep an eye on him, though.” He crossed the room to offer his hand. “Thank you. Do I make payment arrangements with you, or does Patches handle that, as well?”

Rajan shook his hand and gave him a smile. “Usually, I’d say with me, but let’s leave it with her this time. Kristan said you wouldn’t have a need for his pain medications after this? I can always use them in my after-hours work.”

“Keep them.” Lindsay stepped back to look Noah over. He seemed healthier than Lindsay had ever seen him. “And thank you again. If there’s anything we can do for you...” He let the offer trail off. She’d understand.

“I’ll keep it in mind. We’ll finish cleaning up here, and I’ll be out of your way. Best of luck.” Rajan shouldered her bag and picked up the box with Noah’s antibiotics and painkillers. “Kristan said she’d be back up to get those bags. I’ll take them to be destroyed.”

“Please do.” Lindsay sat on the bed next to Noah and tentatively ran a hand down his back. No scars, no raw, open wounds, no blackened flesh. Just smooth, new skin. It was beautiful.

Slowly and gently, Lindsay petted every inch of Noah’s skin he could reach, reassuring himself it was whole and real. At first, Lindsay thought he saw flaws, or faded scars, but no. Noah’s body remembered its old sorrows and the healing process was marked by faint shifts in color like a contour map. Lindsay could follow the terrain of Noah’s failures and suffering, could see all the levels of healing.

In one place, Lindsay could make out where he had come into Noah’s life, if he looked carefully enough. There were little ripples of gold—faster healing—washing up against the absence of a ridge of scar. He’d seen it the first time he’d met Noah. It had twisted with the clench of Noah’s jaw as Cyrus had said, “This one is yours.”