Chapter 8
Larem hoped she was gone. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could fake being asleep. Not with Sasha’s hand on his, her soft voice whispering near his ear. At first he’d thought it was a dream, just another in a long line that he’d had since first meeting her. But no, he was hurting too much for this to be anything other than reality.
He slowly inhaled and immediately recognized the blood and chemical stench of Laurel Young’s medical lab. For a few seconds he was confused about how he came to be stretched out on one of her stainless steel tables before it all came trickling back. Talking to Devlin about what had happened down in the tunnels. Someone swinging a sword—a guard maybe. Trahern protecting Larem from further attack.
Then periods of total oblivion mixed with the occasional vague awareness of pain. Voices—some familiar, some not. He hated knowing he’d been at the mercy of strangers. Granted, he trusted Laurel Young, but he didn’t know how her coworkers felt about having a wounded Kalith for a patient.
The whole idea left him feeling vulnerable. With that in mind, he moved his arm enough to realize he wasn’t chained down as the Paladins usually were. Good. Not that he could muster much of a defense if he was attacked.
He heard footsteps. Someone was coming, but not Sasha. He quickly closed his eyes just in case. A draft of cool air washed over him as his visitor pulled the curtain back.
“You can open your eyes now, Larem. She left.”
Relieved that it was Laurel Young, he did as she said. He had questions for her but found it hurt too much to talk. He managed a hoarse whisper. “Water?”
“Sure thing.” Evidently his request pleased her, because she was smiling when she held a straw to his lips. “Take little sips.”
The chill of the water slid down his throat, soothing away the dry pain. The effort it took to swallow pretty much sapped what little energy he had. He closed his eyes briefly and tried again. “Status?”
Laurel set the glass aside and checked his breathing and pulse with her usual efficiency. Her fingers felt strong and impersonal against his skin, unlike the warmth of Sasha’s brief touch. The comparison bothered him. He shouldn’t be thinking about Sasha at all. Not after the events of . . . when?
“How long?”
Laurel finished her cursory examination and looped her stethoscope around her neck. “Since yesterday afternoon. We had to surgically repair your femoral artery. At least your Kalith healing ability has finally kicked in, so you’re well on your way to making a full recovery.”
She adjusted the flow of the plastic bag of fluids that hung on a pole at the head of his table. “We gave you a unit of Barak’s blood to make up for the puddle you left behind on the floor. I’ll check your blood count later, but it’s been climbing steadily.”
No wonder he felt as if he’d been run over and left for dead. “Anyone else?”
Laurel bit her lower lip before answering. “Well, you know how the Paladins like a good party. Once one of them gets to come hang out with me, they all want to come. Lonzo is still here. Which reminds me, he said to tell you this wouldn’t get you out of doing chores. If you want to argue the point, I’ll wheel him over to see you as soon as he feels up to it.”
“It’s my week to do the laundry.” But then fear for his friend sent a shard of new pain ripping through Larem’s chest. “Is he badly hurt?”
“He was. He’s better, just like every other Paladin who managed to get himself cut up the past couple of days.” She reached to offer Larem water again.
“We also lost a couple of the guards. Sorry, I don’t mean to be such a downer.”
She held the straw to his lips. “I’m going off duty for a few hours as soon as I’m done here with you, but my boss will be around to check on you while I’m gone. If you need anything, press the button there on the side rail. If Dr. Neal is busy, my technician Kenny will come running.”
Larem took a long drink. “Thanks.”
The Handler seemed reluctant to leave. She insisted on fluffing his pillow and then adjusted the light overhead. What was she trying not to say?
“Laurel, spit it out, even if you think I won’t like it. I can’t put up much of a fight right now even if it does make me mad. Later maybe, though.” He held up a shaky fist to demonstrate.
She stopped fiddling with the dials on the monitors and turned to face him. “Okay, hard-ass. Here it is.”
Laurel bent down to whisper in his ear, reminding him that the curtain only gave the illusion of privacy. They weren’t alone, and any Paladins who were awake could hear every word if they weren’t careful. Laurel knew that better than most, so he’d have to trust her judgment on the matter.
“Sasha Willis stopped by to see me and ended up telling Devlin everything about what happened between the two of you yesterday. That’s how she found out you’d been hurt. I don’t mean to be telling tales out of school, but she took it hard.”
Sasha told Devlin everything? Somehow Larem doubted that. She’d never want anyone to find out she’d knowingly let a Kalith touch her—or that she’d liked it.
“That’s okay.” What else could he say?
“The thing is, I think she’ll be back. You know, to check on your progress.” There was a great deal of curiosity in Laurel’s dark eyes, but she was too tactful to press for details.
“Thanks for the warning.”