I opened my eyes, the unfamiliar ceiling and low light of the hospital room blurring for a few breaths while I blinked and blinked. My chest felt heavy, so I didn’t even try to take deep breaths.
I did move my hand a little. Everything hurt in that distant way that let me know I had a wall of painkillers between me and my injuries. The sterile smell of oxygen explained the tube at my nose.
Okay. I was hurt. How badly?
Memories fell out of my head in one big clump. The gun, Lavius, Rossi, Bathin, Ryder, Brown, my sisters, Dad and Mithra and Death.
Lavius was dead. I’d seen him burn in Death’s embrace. I tried to hold onto that as a crawling panic slapped hands all over my skin as if trying to make sure I was awake.
Had I been shot?
Had I been shotagain?
I blinked some more, trying to focus on the room, and not my racing thoughts. Thoughts that felt an awful lot like fear.
I could feel again? Was I was alive? What exactly had happened?
“Easy, Delaney, you’re okay.”
Myra’s voice, a little flat and tired, but there, right there. Then I felt her hand catch my hand and squeeze, saw her stand up and lean over me and wait until I could focus on her face.
“Hey,” I breathed.
“They have you on some heavy drugs, so it’s okay if you feel tired and weird. You were shot, but the bullet disintegrated. It wasn’t made of metal.”
Not sure I should be excited about that. “What was it made of?”
“Dirt and blood.”
I felt the nauseating panic stick fingers down my throat.
“They’ve cleaned out everything they can. You’re on some heavy antibiotics, and you ran a fever for a while.”
The details—common, normal—helped me keep my footing as panic sluiced around me. “How long?”
“A week.” She smiled at whatever look crossed my face. “Oh, you’re going to pay for this, don’t worry. I’m furious at you, but right now I’m just happy you’re alive.” She shook her head. “You’re officially suspended from work for a month.”
“What? You can’t—”
“I can, and just did. You need to take some time and work on healing. And maybe…maybe you should talk to someone, figure out how you can guarantee you’re not going to make these kinds of decisions under pressure again.”
“You would have done the same thing.” Panic was getting overridden by my indignation.
“No, Delaney. I would not have. I would have gone to you. We would have made a plan, and I would have followed that plan.”
She waited for me to argue, even though she knew I wouldn’t.
“I was trying to keep everyone safe,” I started, my voice more unsteady than I’d like. “Ben was gone, Jame…he was in so much pain…and Dad…what was I supposed to do? This is my home. They’re my family.”
Myra reached up and silently wiped the tears off my face, then tucked a tissue in my hand. “I know,” she said, as she gently placed a kiss on my forehead. “I know, honey. You can sleep now. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”
I thought maybe she said something else, but time snapped, and when I opened my eyes, the room was much brighter than it had been.
“Hey, beautiful.” Ryder.
I smiled and he smiled back. He leaned over me, his face close to mine, his hand coming up to cup the side of my face, thumb stroking my cheek. “It’s good to see you awake.”
I could feel the warmth of him, smell the clean scent of sawdust and sunlight that clung to his clothes, and the spicy undertone that was all him. There was nothing left of Mithra in him now.
