A different face leaned over mine. Dr. Howlett smiled, but not enough to show teeth.
“You took a frightful hit, young lady. Plenty of bruising, but nothing’s broken. I had the nurses give you ibuprofen, and I’ll give you a prescription before you go. You’re going to feel tender for a few days. Considering the circumstances, I’d say you should count your blessings.”
“Hank?” I managed to ask, my lips paper-dry.
Dr. Howlett shook his head, rumbling a short laugh. “You’re going to hate hearing this, but he pulled through without a scratch. Hardly seems fair.”
Through the haze, I tried to reason. Something wasn’t right. And then my memory opened. “No. He was cut up. He was bleeding badly.”
“You’re mistaken. Hank came in wearing more of your blood than his own. You got the worst of it by far.”
“But I saw him—”
“Hank Mill ar is in pristine shape,” he cut me off. “And once your stitches fall out, you will be too. As soon as the nurses finish checking these bandages, you’ll be good to go.” Underneath it all, I knew I should panic. There were too many questions, too few answers. Cold, pain, hard. Cold, pain, hard.
The glow of tail ights. The crash. The ravine.
“This will help,” Dr. Howlett said, surprising me with a prick to my arm. Fluid streamed from the needle into my blood with nothing more than a faint sting.
“But I just regained consciousness,” I murmured, a pleasant chemical exhaustion washing through me. “How can I be okay already? I don’t feel right.”
“You’ll make a faster recovery at home.” He chuckled. “Here you’ll have nurses poking and prodding you all night.”
All night? “It’s already evening? But it was just noon. Before Hank—health class—I never had lunch.”
“It’s been a rough day,” Dr. Howlett said, nodding complacently. Under the layers of drugs, I wanted to scream. Instead a mere sigh escaped.
I laid a hand on my stomach. “I feel funny.”
“MRI confirmed you don’t have internal bleeding. Take it easy for the next few days, and you’ll be up and running in no time.” He gave my shoulder a playful squeeze. “But I can’t promise you’ll feel like climbing into another car any time soon.”
Somewhere in the middle of the fog, I remembered my mom. “Is Hank with my mom? Is she okay?
Can I see her? Does she know about the car crash?”
“Your mom is making a very speedy recovery,” he assured me. “She’s still in ICU and can’t have visitors, but she should be moved to her own room by morning. You can come back and see her then.” He leaned down, as though to make me his coconspirator. “Between us, if it weren’t for the red tape, I’d let you sneak in to see her now. She had a pretty nasty concussion, and while there was memory loss at first, considering her condition when Hank first brought her in, I think it’s safe to say she’ll pull a one-eighty.” He patted my cheek. “Luck must run in the family.”
“Luck,” I repeated lethargically.
But I had an alarming feeling stirring inside me, indicating that luck had nothing to do with either of our recoveries.
And maybe not our accidents, either.
CHAPTER 26
AFTER DR. HOWLETT GAVE ME CLEARANCE TO leave, I rode the elevator down to the main lobby. On the way, I dialed Vee. I didn’t have a ride home, and I hoped it was still early enough that her mom would let her rescue a stranded friend.
The elevator eased to a stop, and the doors glided open. My phone clattered at my feet.
“hello, Nora,” Hank said, standing directly in front of me.
Three counts passed before I summoned my voice. “Going up?” I asked, hoping I sounded calm.
“Actually, I was looking for you.”
“I’m in a hurry,” I said apologetically, scooping up my phone.
“I thought you might need a ride home. I had one of my boys bring over a rental from the dealership.”
“Thanks, but I’ve already called a friend.”
His smile was plastic. “At least let me see you to the doors.”
“I need to stop by the restrooms first,” I hedged. “Please don’t wait. Really, I’m fine. I’m sure Marcie is anxious to see you.”
“Your mother would want me to see you home safely.”
His eyes were bloodshot, his whole expression weary, but I didn’t for one moment think it was from his role as the grieving boyfriend. Dr. Howlett could insist all he wanted that Hank had arrived at the hospital unscathed, but I knew the truth. He’d come out of the crash worse than I had. Worse, even, than the crash warranted.
His face had resembled pulverized meat, and while his Nephilim blood had cured him almost instantly, I’d known from the moment he’d shaken me out of unconsciousness, and I’d taken that first blurry look at him, that something had happened to him after I blacked out. He could deny it up and down, but his condition had resembled being mauled by tigers.
He was haggard and exhausted because he’d battled a group of fall en angels today. At least, that was my current working theory. As I traced my way back through the events, it was the only explanation that made sense. Damn fallen angels! Weren’t those the words Hank had sworn viciously a fraction of a moment before the crash? He clearly hadn’t planned on running into them …
so what had he planned to happen?
I had a terrible feeling churning inside me. One, I realized in retrospect, I’d been dangling at the back of my mind ever since Hank had shown up at school. What if Hank had in fact set the day’s events up? Could he have pushed my mom down the stairs? Dr. Howlett said she’d initially suffered from amnesia, a device Hank could have used to keep her from remembering the truth. Then he’d picked me up from school … for what? What was I missing?
“I smell rubber burning,” Hank said. “You’re thinking hard about something.” His voice jerked me to the present. I stared up at him, wishing I could glean his motives from his expression. It was then that I realized his eyes were just as fixed on me. His gaze was so intent, it was almost trancelike.
Whatever conclusion I’d been about to draw swam away. My thoughts tipped sideways. Suddenly they were all out of order, and I couldn’t remember what I’d been pondering. The harder I tried to remember, the more my thoughts careened into an abyss at the back of my mind.
A cocoon stretched around my mind, wrapping any cognitive ability tightly out of reach. It was happening all over again. The muddled, heavy sensation of being unable to control my own thoughts.
“Has your friend agreed to pick you up, Nora?” he asked with that same laserlike attention.
Somewhere deep inside, I knew I shouldn’t tell Hank the truth. I knew I should say Vee was coming for me. But what reason did I have to lie to him?
“I called Vee, but she didn’t answer,” I admitted.
“I’m happy to give you a ride, Nora.”
I nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
My mind was jumbled, and I couldn’t snap out of it. I strolled down the corridor beside Hank, my hands cold and shaking. Why was I trembling? It was nice of Hank to offer me a ride. He cared about my mom enough to go out of his way for me … didn’t he?
The ride home was uneventful, and at the farmhouse, Hank followed me inside.
I stopped just inside the door. “What are you doing?”
“Your mom would want me to look after you tonight.”
“You’re staying the whole night?” My hands started to shake again, and through my cotton-filled head, I knew I had to find a way to make him leave. It wasn’t a good idea to let him sleep over. But how could I force him out? He was stronger. And even if I could get him out, my mom had recently given him a house key. He’d come right back inside.
“You’re letting cold air in,” Hank said, gently prying my hands from the door. “Let me help.” That’s right, I thought with a smile at my own muddleheaded sill iness. He wanted to help.
Hank tossed his keys on the counter and sank into the couch, kicking his feet up on the ottoman.
He angled his eyes at the cushion next to him. “Want to unwind with a show?”
“I’m tired,” I said, hugging myself now that the awful quivering had spread above my elbows.
“You’ve had a long day. Sleep might be just what the doctor ordered.” I fought through the oppressive cloud suffocating my brain, but it seemed there was no end to the thick darkness. “Hank?” I asked quizzically. “Why do you really want to stay here tonight?” He chuckled. “You look positively frightened, Nora. Be a good girl and go up to bed. It’s not like I’m going to strangle you in your sleep.”
In my bedroom, I scooted the dresser in front of the door, effectively blocking it. I had no idea why I did it; I had no reason to fear Hank. He was keeping a promise to my mom. He wanted to protect me. If he knocked, I would push the dresser aside and open the door.
And yet …
I crawled into bed and closed my eyes. Exhaustion raked down my body, and by now I was shivering violently. I wondered if I was catching a cold. When my mind began to feel heavy, I didn’t fight it. Colors and shapes seesawed in and out of focus. My thoughts slid deeper into my subconscious. Hank was right; it had been a long day. I needed sleep.
It wasn’t until I found myself standing at the threshold of Patch’s studio that I began to sense that something wasn’t quite right. The haze scattered from my brain, and I realized Hank had mind-tricked me into submission. Flinging open Patch’s front door and dashing inside, I shouted his name.
I found him in the kitchen, slouched on a bar stool. One look at me, and he swung off and crossed to me. “Nora? How did you get here? You’re inside my head,” he said with surprise. “Are you dreaming?” His eyes flicked back and forth across my face, hunting for an answer.
“I don’t know. I think so. I crawled into bed feeling a desperate need to talk to you … and here I am. Are you asleep?”
He shook his head. “I’m awake, but you’re eclipsing my thoughts. I don’t know how you did it. Only a powerful Nephil or fall en angel could pull off something like this.”
“Something terrible happened.” I threw myself into his arms, trying to dissipate my convulsive shivers. “First my mom fell down the stairs, and on our way to the hospital to see her, Hank and I were hit. Before I blacked out, I think Hank said the other car was full of fall en angels. Hank drove me home from the hospital—and I asked him to leave, but he won’t!”
home from the hospital—and I asked him to leave, but he won’t!” Patch’s eyes flashed with anxiety. “Slow down. Hank is alone with you right now?” I nodded.
“Wake up. I’m coming to see you.”
Fifteen minutes later there was a soft rap on my bedroom door. Dragging aside the dresser to clear the entrance, I cracked the door to find Patch on the other side of it. I grabbed his hand and hauled him inside.
