"Physically or mentally?" I asked.
"Both."
"Physically, I don't feel great, but a little food and a huge cup of coffee will probably go a long way to fixing that. Mentally, I'm freaking out that I was kidnapped and missed the entire thing. I went to sleep here and woke up here. Those guys in black seem like a bad dream rather than a traumatic experience."
Marcus nodded. "Why don't you stay in bed and I'll bring you a cup of coffee before I make you lunch."
I winced at the thought of actual food. "Can I just have some toast or a banana for right now? My stomach is still upset."
"Whatever you want," he said. He leaned forward and touched his lips to my forehead.
He got to his feet and left the room. I stayed where I was for a moment, thinking about everything he said. My head throbbed in unison with my heart. I was going to need something other than coffee and food. While I would love some prescription-strength painkillers, an ibuprofen would have to do.
I moved slowly to the edge of the bed and turned so my legs draped over the side. I gripped the headboard as I pushed myself to my feet, my legs trembling from the effort it took to hold my weight. When I was sure that I wasn't going to go splat, I took a few shuffling steps to the end of the bed. I held on to the footboard as I rounded the mattress and made my way to the bathroom.
Now that I was on my feet, I was desperate to use the toilet. My legs were slowly regaining their strength and I was able to move faster.
I shut the bathroom door behind me and hurried over to the toilet.
Five minutes later, I was back in bed, bladder relieved, hands and face washed, and teeth brushed. I tossed two ibuprofen tablets into my mouth and washed them down with water.
My head still hurt but my mouth no longer tasted like something disgusting.
Marcus came into the room with a huge mug of coffee and a plate of toast. "You got up?"
"Yeah. Nature called and I had to brush my teeth. Whatever they gave me made my mouth taste like a sewer."
He put the toast on my lap and handed me the mug.
"Thank you," I said.
"You're welcome. I know you said that you were freaking out about missing the kidnapping thing, but I'm glad you weren't sitting there, terrified, for hours while I wasn't there to protect you."
"You won't be able to protect me from everything, Marcus," I said.
"Maybe not, but this was something I should have been able to protect you from."
"You can't predict what people will do," I argued.
"Maybe not, but I should be prepared for anything."
"Why? Because you've been alive for nearly two thousand years?"
He stared at me as though I were speaking another language.
"What?" I laughed. "Being ancient doesn't mean you're omniscient. You can't be everywhere at once."
"Ancient?" he asked.
I drank some coffee and batted my eyelashes at him.
He sighed. "You do have a point. Except about me being old."
I made a show of looking at his hair. "I do see a few silver threads in there."
"Stop," he said.
I laughed again and took another gulp of coffee. It was delicious, exactly the way I liked it. Further proof that Marcus paid attention. He knew how I liked my coffee and he knew how my brain worked.
