Through clenched teeth, even though I’m not in pain, I answer, “Not that I’m aware of.”
“And you’ll need a tetanus booster.”
“Does it come in pill form? I really hate shots.”
“No.” I hear the snip of scissors and then the plasticky peel of a big-ass Band-Aid. She lifts the hair curling at the nape of my neck and presses the plaster to the numbed skin. “I’ll leave you some antibiotic cream and some extra bandages. Change them once a day. As for the shots, I’d like to give you one for rabies, too.”
I can handle two shots. I handled a crazy-ass mermaid, I remind myself.
“In total, you’ll need five doses of the rabies vaccine over the next twenty-eight days.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
Adrien smiles, getting a kick out of my needle-phobia.Son of a bitch.I glare at him, but that just intensifies his grin.
Two shots, fine. Butsix?No way. Not when there wasn’t even a fucking dog to begin with. Unless magical mermaids have rabies. Maybe if I don’t get the shots, I’ll sprout scales. I rub my arms, which tingle. I check for scales . . . just in case. When I find none, I heave out a sigh and relax my shoulders.
I look over at Cadence, and our eyes meet, but the contact is brief. She dips her chin into her neck and concentrates on her hoodie’s ties, wrapping them around her finger, unwrapping them, wrapping them again. She’s not radiating anger anymore, but she’s also not radiating empathy or warmth.
As I put on my shirt and do up a few buttons, Doc gives me a prescription for antibiotics and instructions to visit her office in three days for a follow-up rabies shot.
She clicks her satchel closed, then puts on a khaki parka fit for Antarctica. “Rainier, will you see me out?”
Nodding, Rainier motors himself out of the living room. I return my gaze to Cadence, hoping to catch her eye, but she’s observing Gaëlle, who’s twisted around, watching the doctor and Rainier exit. A moment later, the front door snicks shut and then the wheelchair’s rubber tires squeak back into the room.
Rainier parks himself in the doorway and removes the birch box from the wheelchair’s pocket. Part of me wants to open the lead-lined box to look at the piece I retrieved from the mermaid’s guts, but it’s too risky. Besides, I can still see it in my mind, its rounded triangular shape, its smooth golden sheen. I can still feel it in my hand, lighter than I expected and warm like the ring.
I curl my fingers, the thick gold band strangling my still bruised digit.
Rainier tips his head toward the first floor. “Slate, come upstairs to my office. We need to put it away in the safe.”
I frown. “And you need my help with that?”
“I can’t exactly handle the piece myself.”
I feel my eyebrows rise. “We’re taking it out of the box?”
“Best way to ensure no one steals it.”
Cadence’s red lips pop open. “Who do you think might steal it, Papa?”
Rainier exchanges a weighted look with Gaëlle.
Cadence eyes them. “What are you two not telling us?”
“A lot of people in this town believe the Quatrefoil is real,” Rainier says.
“I know that, Papa. Nolwenn mentioned she believed in magic, but you’re not worriedshemight take it, are you?”
“She was watching us tonight,” I toss in. I’d racked it up to being a busybody, but combined with her scrutiny of my ring, it’s starting to feel like something else. “She was also very intrigued by my ring.” I rub my palms over my legs.
“Nolwenn believes in the magic of the Quatrefoil and the Bloodstone”—Rainier drums his fingers against the box—“but she also believes in the curses, so she won’t take the risk of stealing a leaf.”
“Why are you putting it in the safe, then?” Cadence asks.
“Mainly, so we don’t misplace it.”
My fingers cramp around my knees. “Misplace it? Yeah. Please avoidmisplacingit, De Morel.”
