“What,” Cassian says, “exactly do you think you can help with?”
“Resuscitation. Inducing cardiac arrest and reversing it.”
Talon stiffens. Cassian’s shoulders don’t move.
“We don’t need your help,” Cassian says. “We can manage everything ourselves.”
I tilt my head slightly.
“Better than a doctor?”
A flicker passes through his mismatched eyes. Irritation first, then something else. The uncomfortable realization that, for all his certainty about the metaphysical, the physical is still someone else’s domain.
Talon laughs once. Humorless and frayed. “Why the glum face, man? You should be happy. You convinced a fucking doctor with your crazy talk.”
Cassian shoots him a look. Talon lifts both hands. “What? Just saying.”
His hand isn’t near his belt anymore.
Cassian returns his attention to me. “I know basic first aid.”
“From what I heard, basic first aid won’t give you the results you’re looking for.” I look at the milky white of his damaged eye. Hold there for a moment. “You died. And one of your eyes didn’t recover.”
His shoulders tighten.
“That’s an ischemic injury,” I say. “When the heart stops, retinal cells die before almost anything else.”
I take a step closer. Slow enough not to challenge whatever instinct for violence lives inside him. I’m sure it’s there. Both of them carry it.
“What does that mean?” Talon asks.
“It means he was gone too long. Just on the edge of permanent damage.” I glance at Cassian’s blind eye again. “A moment longer and that wouldn’t be the only deficit he carries.”
Talon goes still.
“So what, you’re saying if he had stayed dead, like… thirty more seconds, his whole body would’ve just… shut down?”
“Yes,” I answer.
Talon whistles and turns toward Cassian. “Did you know that?”
Cassian doesn’t reply. His attention is on me. Entirely. His stare doesn’t shift or blink or soften.
And I find that I don’t mind it.
His suspicion is logical. I would be suspicious of me too. I can respect it.
“Who are you?” he asks. “Why are you here?”
Who am I.
A kindred soul, perhaps. A fellow murderer with a drive for justice.
“My name is Nathaniel.”
Talon rolls his eyes and shakes his head. His gaze drifts toward the grief counseling room, then falls to the floor.
Cassian’s jaw shifts again.
