“No sir,” Rupert said. I must have unconsciously been still using some of my command because he blurted out, “I was just thinking the Second Knight was wise to warn you it wouldn’t help to daze the entire hospital.” He snapped his mouth shut and sucked his neck in when he glanced at me.
I shrugged. “As long as they fix her.”
Rupert was silent for a few steps. “They will,” he said, his voice confident in a way I wished I felt. “Vampire slayers are among the toughest of humans, and she was designed and trained to deal with blood loss. With the right medical care, she’ll be fine.”
Thinking of the way Gisila’s eyes had lingered on Jade’s revealed face, I shook my head. “I’m not so certain of that.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
Jade
Iwoke up slowly, sensory details slipping through the fog that clouded my mind.
There was a pinching sensation on my fingers, the air smelled funny—both sterile and kind of sour—and the sheets of the bed I was in were rough on my skin.
This isn’t my bed. And I’m definitely not in my apartment.
I tried to open my eyes, but they felt heavy. My body in general felt heavy—as if a troll was sitting on me.
Something—or someone—shifted, and I heard the creak of a plastic chair. I finally peeled my eyes open and stared up at a tiled ceiling.
I’m in the hospital.
The room was dark—the only lights came from the display unit of the probe attached to me and a slice of florescent light that pried its way in through the cracked door.
I’d been in the hospital my fair share of times. This one was nicer than any I’d been to before. There was a big window thatoverlooked a parking lot, a big TV screen, and even a few framed paintings hung on the standard beige-y walls.
I managed to twitch my fingers, and I recognized the clip clamped over my finger as a probe that measured my vitals. I was stuck in a flimsy hospital gown without a single weapon on my person.
How did I get here?
At least, I was feeling a lot better than I did when I passed out. The lightheadedness, the ringing in my ears, and the general head pain were completely gone.
I managed to roll my eyes to the side with a great deal of effort, surprised to see Connor sitting in a plastic chair scooted close to my bedside. He stared blankly across the dark room looking at the still darkened sky. His dark hair didn’t have its usual tousled look—it almost seemed flattened, like he’d been wearing a hood—and he was wearing uncharacteristically dark clothes.
He lowered his gaze, and when his dark red eyes met mine, he surged out of his seat. “Jade?”
“Hey, Connor.” My voice sounded as rough as I felt. I struggled, trying to turn on my side.
“Take it easy,” Connor said, his voice low and silky. “The doctors said you’ll be fine—you have a concussion and the gunshot wound needed surgery, but your healing powers have kicked in and I’ve been administering high grade fae potions, so you’re healing up, fast.”
That’s right… I got shot. And I fell off that ladder. No wonder I don’t feel great.
“Thanks.” I held in a groan as I tried to adjust my body—my brain was so fuzzy it felt furry, even though I was gradually waking up. “Did you bring me in?”
Connor took several seconds to reply. “Yes.”
“Thank you,” I said.
He shrugged.
“I mean it—thank you,” I repeated. “I remember being in my apartment, but that’s it. If I’d stayed alone and passed out, things would have gotten ugly. I was trying to get to my potion stash…” I trailed off as my brain finally started to kick in.
Wait…how did Connor know I could safely take a high grade fae potion? Those aren’t safe for non-magical humans to consume.
I craned my neck to peer at Connor again. Maybe my eyes finally sharpened or maybe my brain was operating at a more normal level, but I recognized the dark shirt he was wearing and more specifically I could feel the spark of fae magic that radiated from the spelled hood.
