“I see,” he said.
Meanwhile, I stood awkwardly on the other side of the office. I still didn’t understand the big deal about Faust. But it wasn’t like I could ask him about it anymore.
Maybe I’m naive, but he didn’t seem like that bad of a guy... Are they all overreacting, or is there something I don’t know?
As Hartford worked on his patient, he asked, “How’d it go? The exorcism?”
“Fine,” Sagitta stated.
His stiff answer could be chalked up to pain. I hoped the doctor didn’t see through his lie. But was it technically a lie if it was currently true? Sure, Sagitta failed at first, but Faust was gone now.
“Hmm.” Suddenly, Hartford shot me a churlish glance over his shoulder. “By the way, do you need to be here?”
I was startled by his rudeness. “Uh...”
“Not too bright, are you, kid?”
“Hartford,” Sagitta chided.
“What, you like this guy or something?” Hartford asked.
When Sagitta went uncomfortably silent, the doctor raised a brow.
“Well, shit. Should’ve said so when you walked in.” Hartford pointed at his desk chair. “Take a seat, kid. This won’t be ten minutes.”
I sat down and relaxed, both because Hartford welcomed me and because he confirmed Sagitta’s injury wasn’t serious.
“Hoodie, toss me the green bottle, will you?” Hartford asked.
I questioned throwing any sort of medical supply across the room, but I didn’t argue. There was only a single dark green bottle on his messy desk, so I grabbed that one. I expected it to be made of glass, but the material felt weirdly spongy. I didn’t like it.
“Uh, should I seriously just throw it?” I asked.
“Did you fail a grade? I said toss it.”
Frowning, I chucked the weird green bottle at the back of Hartford’s head. He caught it in midair without even looking. I would’ve been more impressed if I wasn’t so annoyed at him.
“His name is Chase,” Sagitta explained, arching a brow at the doctor. “And he’s smarter than you think he is.”
Hartford popped the lid off the green bottle and offered it to Sagitta. “Sure. Drink this.”
Sagitta drank, then grimaced at what I assumed was a foul taste. Kinda like cold medicine that made you feel better but tasted like dog shit.
Hartford wheeled over to a drawer and snapped on a pair of disposable gloves. “Now, tell me something. If Chase is so smart, why’d he go and get possessed in the dumbest way possible?”
An embarrassed blush tinged my cheeks. “How do you know about that?”
“Cygnet told me,” Hartford replied, smirking. “Oh man, was he ever pissed. He ranted and raved about it for hours, but I tuned out after the first.”
Was he talking about the same Cygnet who’d threatened me with a sword? I couldn’t imagine him ranting or raving, but then again, I didn’t know him well at all.
Sagitta scowled harder than when he’d drunk the nasty potion. “It’s unprofessional to discuss other people’s clients. I wish you wouldn’t encourage his bad behaviour.”
“Sorry, but I love gossip too much,” Hartford said with an unapologetic shrug. “Besides, if folks can’t talk to me, whocanthey talk to?”
“A therapist?” I suggested dryly.
Hartford threaded a curved needle. “Too expensive. Besides, I’m pretty much a therapist around here. Everybody trusts me with their deep, dark secrets.”
