“No—” I swallowed. “No shots, no needles. Can’t you just use your powers?”
“No. Certain injuries require a mixture of magical and mechanicalprocedures. We also need to limit what we use our energy on.” He held up his yellow amulet. “This permits me to use a lot more than most. But I still have limits, and Virtues fall prey to Divine Wasting more than any other angel.”
“And here I thought you wore it to bring out the golden flecks in your hazel eyes,” Oliver chimed in, and Sam’s freckled face pinkened.
“And you’re sure we can’t use Ronen?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Sam considered me. “Lucille, I’ve already done this once to you.”
“I was unconscious. What if you knock me out?”
Sam pursed his lips, then nodded. “I’ll have to put you under to suture your torn tendon. So I suppose I can heal the rest of your wounds while you’re under.” He stood. “I’ll be back with the sedative tonic.”
Oliver watched him leave, and when the door closed, he continued to stare after him.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” I said.
He whipped around. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You sure? Because I think you might have a crush?—”
“Shut up!” Oliver hissed right as the door opened again.
Sam panned between the two of us. “Have I missed something?”
“Nope,” we both answered quickly.
“As if I’d ever believe that. Here.” Sam handed me a vial. “Drink, and when you wake up, you’ll be fully healed.”
“Sweet dreams, Luce! I’ll keep an eye on our healer here, make sure he does his job right.” He winked.
“Mhmm.” He wasn’t hiding anything from me.
I threw back the vial. A minty chemical taste tingled my tongue before my body became heavy and the room faded.
“Lucy,”someone sang. “Wakey, wakey.”
I blinked, and Oliver’s face swam into view.
“There she is.”
I groaned as my thoughts danced out of reach.
“Sam had to go tend to our friends. Said you’d feel lethargic for a few minutes.”
I sat up farther in bed, staring at the stitches in my arm and legs.
“He couldn’t spare the energy to heal them closed,” Oliver explained.
He was helping us all. I’d rather have scars than have him use unnecessary energy.
I swallowed, trying to ease the dryness in my throat and clear the bitter taste on my tongue, with no luck. “Water?”
“Right. Sam mentioned that too.” Oliver handed me a glass.
I drank.
“Better?”
