He turned his head to find Drew watching him. His warrior sipped on a mug of something hot. Coffee, he guessed. Bast couldn’t tell the last time he’d moved from his spot against the wall, out of the way of hospital staff but close enough to be useful if needed. When this was over, Bast wouldn’t have enough ways to repay him.
“I think I’m up for the night,” he said through a sleep-clogged throat. Bast scanned the room for their new friend, stifling the urge to growl once found. “Any trouble?”
“None,” Drew replied. “Quiet day.”
The man seated in the plastic-lined chair twitched in his sleep, his fingers flexing and twitching as if he spent his time working with his hands in a respectable trade job instead of shooting shit into his veins. Bast tried not to see the resemblance, but he wasn’t blind. They had the same big blue eyes and bone structure. Hell, he even recognized the untamed curls. Alice and Richard could have almost been twins. Only now, her “twin” looked sicker than she did, skinny and pale in a way that would have pained him to see on Alice. But Bast had begged Gray and the others to find him. Despite the way her brother had treated her, Alice still loved him and if hearing his voice would help guide her back, then Bast would have followed him to hell and back just to get him here.
She hadn’t responded to Richard’s voice, but Bast made her a promise. When she woke up, her brother would be going to rehab. He’d foot every cent of the bill. He told Alice that if she would only wake up to say goodbye, Bast would send him on his way.
Something about watching him though, seeing him here and alive while his sister lay in a hospital bed, sent anger piping through Bast’s veins. Where was the fucking justice in the world when a sickly junkie got to live and the woman he loved, the one who made him proud, slowly sank further into herself? Bast flung out an arm, striking Richard in the leg.
“Fuck, man!” He reached for his leg, rubbing the target.
“When’s the last time you talked to your sister?” Bast asked.
“Hell, dude. I dunno. Was sleeping. You ‘spect me to be talking to her all the time? You know she don’ hear nothing no way.”
Bast stood to his full height, tilting his head from side to side, allowing the loud cracks of stiff joints to reverberate. He flexed his fingers in full view of Richard’s face, intent on letting him understand the seriousness of disobedience. They had to have this demonstration once every six hours or so and quite frankly, Bast was tired of it. He shot across the space, grabbed Richard by the shirt and stuck his face within an inch of his. “If I expect you to sing to her, you will sing. If I expect you to pray to her, you will pray. You will do any Goddamned thing—”
“Hey...no fighting...”
It was so soft, said so timidly that Bast should have missed it. But dear God, he’d been waiting more than two days to hear that voice again. Even when he’d received a cryptic message from the mysterious other dragon, promising to meet with him soon. One that spoke of unease and disquiet among the creatures of the earth. One that promised eventual war... Even then, Bast hadn’t been as focused on something or someone as he was now, with full and complete attention.
He released Richard, who grunted at being dropped, managing to cross the room and be at her side with inhuman speed. “Alice?”
Her closed eyes fluttered, but slowly opened. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “Hi,” she said just above a whisper.
For a moment, Bast was riveted to the spot. He didn’t know if he should touch her or what to say. He couldn’t decide if he should kiss her first or tell her he loved her or any of a dozen different things. He didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know which way to turn. He glanced at Drew, who wore a half smile, then turned to Richard, who looked bored. The fuck.
Alice touched him first. Her fingers grazed the top of his hand, and Bast thought his heart might jump out of his chest, it raced so hard and so fast. He swallowed reflexively. Searched for his voice. Looked for the right words.
Not knowing what else to do, he went down on one knee and kneeled next to the bed. He draped an arm across her thighs and bent his head to rest next to her side. Eyes closed, he blinked back the tears he couldn’t seem to keep from forming. She let him stay there for such a long time, every once in a while stroking a hand through his hair. With every brush, some of the tension and worry eased from his body.