Created (Talented Saga)

by Sophie Davis

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I told the doctor honestly.

  “You as well, Ms. Lyons,” he said, and I got the distinct impression he really meant it, too.

  “How is he?” I nodded my head towards Erik.

  The quilt on the bed was pulled down, exposing Erik’s body from the waist up. His abdomen was so swollen that it puffed out like the bellies of malnourished children I’d seen pictures of. Bruises in various stages of healing colored his chest black, purple, blue, green, and yellow. A thin line of stitches ran through his bottom lip to the point of his chin. A blue plastic cast, identical to the one Cadence wore, encased his right arm from the tips of his fingers to his armpit. Underneath the quilt, there was a huge bulge where one of his knees should’ve been.

  Someone had taken the care to wash his hair, and it was shiny and still a little damp, and smelled like pine. I longed to run my fingers through the thick strands. All the dirt and blood had been scrubbed from his skin, which only made his injuries that much more visible.

  “He had a great deal of internal bleeding. A broken rib punctured his lung. Bones in his arm are broken, as is his knee cap,” the doctor said matter-of-factly.

  I inhaled a shaky breath. “Is that all?” I mumbled, the words coming out more sarcastic than I’d meant them to.

  Dr. Patel gave a short laugh. “Yes, he has been through quite an ordeal. He has lost a lot of blood, but his body has responded well to the transfusions. I have him sedated right now.” The doctor paused, and I felt the weight of his gaze assessing me. “Ms. Lyons, how long was Mr. Kelley imprisoned?” he asked finally.

  “Around a week,” I said absently.

  “Was he injured prior to his imprisonment?”

  “No,” I said, growing uneasy. “Why?” I tore my gaze away from Erik to appraise the doctor.

  “The breaks to his bones do not appear recent. Judging by the level of remodeling, I would posit the breaks occurred several weeks ago. Even many of his bruises appear older than one week.”

  “He’s a Talent; he heals fast,” I said with a shrug like it was no big deal. Truthfully, I didn’t think it was. Dr. Patel probably just didn’t treat many Talents, so he wasn’t used to our rapid healing abilities.

  “No, Ms. Lyons, there is more to it than that,” Dr. Patel replied with a patient smile. “Being talented, his cells do regenerate more quickly than a non-Talent, but not this quickly.”

  “What are you suggesting?” I asked impatiently. My head hurt and I was growing tired of this roundabout conversation.

  “I believe he was given something, a drug perhaps, to help him heal faster. Nothing came up in his initial blood work, but I have ordered more in-depth testing. I will know for certain shortly.”

  “So, what does that mean exactly? Is the healing drug a bad thing or a good thing?”

  “Too soon to tell,” Dr. Patel responded, his words full of false cheerfulness. “Right now, the important thing is that all of his vitals are strong. I am hopeful he will make a full recovery.”

  “Is there a chance he won’t?” I asked.

  “As I said, his body has yet to reject the blood transfusions, which is a very good sign.”

  “But?” I prompted since there was definitely a “but.”

  “But it is too soon for certainties. There is still a chance his body will reject the blood.”

  “What will happen if it does?”

  “I do not believe you need to worry about –”

  “What will happen if it does?” I hissed the question through gritted teeth this time.

  “He could die.”

  Tears sprang immediately to my eyes, spilling down my cheeks before I thought to stop them.

  “I have faith, Ms. Lyons. You should, too. The fact he is still alive after what he has been through is a miracle. It would take much less than that for him to pull through.” Dr. Patel placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “The best thing you can do for him now is be here. Talk to him. Let him hear your voice, feel your touch. The emergency medics said he called your name on the plane. I cannot imagine he won’t make a full recovery so long as he knows you are waiting on this side for him.”

  My shoulders began to tremble, and I had to bite my knuckles to keep from dissolving into a blubbering mess. The doctor patted my back once more then quietly left me alone with the love of my life.

  Penny and Brand didn’t enter Erik’s room right away; they let me cry in peace. When Penny finally did come in, she had clean clothes for me, including soft fuzzy socks. Brand stayed in the doorway, looking uncomfortable.

  “There’s a bathroom through there,” Penny said gently, pointing at a door I hadn’t noticed before. “Why don’t you take a shower, get cleaned up. I’ll sit with him in case he wakes up.”

  I didn’t care about getting clean. I didn’t care that I was likely covered in blood, dirt, chemicals, and who knew what else. I just wanted to be with him.

  “You really want the first thing he sees when he wakes up to be you, looking like you’ve been to hell and back?” Penny asked.

  “Yeah, if he sees you like this, he’ll probably wish he hadn’t bothered,” Brand piped up from the doorway.

  I shot him my own if-looks-could-kill glare, knowing full well that the difference between mine and Brand’s was that I was actually capable of killing someone with my stare. Brand recoiled; inwardly, I smiled with satisfaction.

  “You promise you’ll stay with him?” I said to Penny. “I don’t want him waking up alone or with a stranger. It might scare him.”

  Brand snorted.

  “What’s so funny?” I snapped, rounding on Brand. I’d had all I could take of his snarky attitude.

  “Really? He’s been physically and psychologically tortured. His body has taken more abuse than I can even fathom. I don’t know how he didn’t break, let alone how he stayed sane. And you’re worried he’ll be scared if he wakes up alone? Give the guy a little more credit than that.” Brand’s tone was more respectful than I’d ever heard it. Even when addressing Crane, he didn’t show such reverence.

  “That’s enough, Brand,” Penny said sternly. “Yes, Talia, I promise,” she added, addressing me.

  “Thanks, Penny.”

  I took the clothes she’d brought me from my room upstairs and headed for the bathroom. The hot water stung my face and neck, but it felt amazing and I barely cared. Originally, I’d planned on rinsing off the worst of the grime and then returning to Erik’s side. But the desire to rid my body of not just the visible signs of battle, but the deeper, hidden reminders, as well, trumped that.

  After dislodging small rocks, twigs, and some questionable metal fragments from my curls, I filled the porcelain tub to the brim with steaming water. I scrubbed furiously at the grossness lodged under my fingernails, between my toes, and in odd places like behind my ears. Pieces of rubble that still clung to my hair sank to the bottom of the tub when I finger-combed the tangles. I used lavender soap to rid my skin of the acrid scent of chemical bombs and gunpowder. I had to empty and refill the tub three times to avoid sitting in filth.

  In addition to the lavender soap, someone had left a collection of lavender face wash and shampoo and conditioner. I made a mental note to thank Penny. Only she would have gone to so much trouble for me.

  Being naked, I discovered my feet weren’t the only parts of my body bearing marks. Bruises were blossoming on my calf, my thigh, over my right hip, and those were just the ones that had started to turn color. Tender patches of skin along my ribcage promised later discoloration would follow there, too. After more than an hour, I finally emptied the tub for the last time, and wrapped my body in a thick towel. The material was so soft and if Brand hadn’t been on the other side of the door, I might’ve worn the towel to keep my vigil. Propriety made me put on the shorts and t-shirt Penny had brought me.

  A collection of gold-handled hairbrushes and combs were laid out on the bathroom vanity. An intricate rose design had been carv
ed into the handle of each utensil. There was something oddly familiar about the carvings, but I couldn’t place it.

  Clean and smelling a hundred times better than when I entered the bathroom, I finally rejoined Penny, Brand, and Erik. I noticed right away that the couch had been folded out, revealing a sofa bed. Sheets, pillows, and a quilt that matched the one covering Erik were already layered over the mattress. Penny and Brand were seated in the two armchairs.

  “Feel better?” Penny asked brightly when she saw me.

  “You look better. Not so crazed,” Brand said before I had a chance to answer her.

  I didn’t have the energy to deal with him, so I ignored Brand’s half-assed compliment.

  “I do. You were right, a shower was good for me,” I said, pointedly focusing my attention on Penny. “Thank you for the soaps, the hairbrushes, and of course for making the bed.”

  “I figured you’d want to sleep down here with him.” She shrugged, looking a little embarrassed by my gratitude. “Are you hungry? Do you want me to have Marin send some food down?”

  “No thank you. I ate something earlier on the plane,” I told her, staring longingly at the sofa bed.

  “I’m sure you want to get some sleep. Just send a comm up if you need anything, and I’ll come see you later,” Penny said, having followed my gaze. “Let’s go, Brand.”

  Penny hugged me once more, and promised to return later. I watched the two of them leave. I was so tired that my vision kept crossing, and I couldn’t think straight. But I wanted to touch Erik, let him know I was here, just as Dr. Patel had suggested. I grabbed the quilt off of the sofa bed, dragged one of the armchairs across the floor, and set it next to the hospital bed. I bent over Erik’s sleeping form, kissing him softly on his forehead. He didn’t stir. I curled my legs underneath me in the chair, rested my head against the arm, and laced my fingers with his.

  “I love you,” I whispered, before closing my eyes and giving myself over to exhaustion.

  Chapter Seven

  Something wet and sticky slid over my forehead. It stung and I groaned. When I tried to swat it away, fingers encircled my wrist. My eyes shot open, and I was staring into Dr. Patel’s chocolate eyes. I jumped slightly, recoiling from his touch.

  “Ms. Lyons, good morning,” the doctor said cheerfully.

  Morning? Hadn’t it been afternoon when I’d fallen asleep? I looked past him at the picture window. Someone must have pulled the curtains shut, because only a small crack was visible between the navy panels. Light sliced through the opening, creating a golden rod across the quilt covering Erik.

  “What did you do to me?” I croaked, lightly fingering my forehead. The pads of my fingers came away tacky.

  “You have some nasty scratches. I thought it best to disinfect them,” Dr. Patel answered pleasantly.

  “Thanks,” I muttered. I shifted to a sitting position, the springs of the sofa bed groaning softly underneath me. Confused, I looked for the chair that I remembered dragging to Erik’s bedside. “Didn’t I sleep in a chair?” I asked him.

  “You fell asleep in the chair, but President Crane moved you in the night.” Dr. Patel straightened, backed away from the sofa bed, and gestured to a small folding table. “Are you hungry? Ms. Marin sent down breakfast.”

  I inhaled the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sweet cinnamon buns. My stomach growled, and I swung my legs over the side of the bed as I reached for the coffee. The steam wafting over the lip of the mug warned me that the contents were hot, but I took a long swallow anyway. The liquid burned my tongue, but the caffeine jolted my senses awake.

  “How is he this morning?” I asked Dr. Patel, who was now busy recording Erik’s vitals on his electronic pad.

  “Everything looks to be in order,” Dr. Patel replied, keeping his back to me.

  I grabbed one of the cinnamon buns sitting on the plate and bit into it. Sugary icing and cinnamon pastry filled my mouth, and I hungrily devoured the treat. My stomach clenched almost painfully around the food, but I moved on to a second pastry without hesitation.

  “Are you treating all of the people who were brought from Gatlinburg?” I asked Dr. Patel. I wanted to know how Cadence was doing. Somehow between my concern for Henri and my haste to get to Erik, I’d forgotten to make sure that she’d arrived here.

  “Some of them. Your friend, Mr. Reich is it? He is doing well. His shoulder will require surgery, but you did a fine job stitching the wound.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. At least Henri was okay. “What about a girl? She’s in her early twenties, small, with black hair and black eyes. She has a broken leg and some other injuries. She should have been brought in around the same time as Erik.”

  Dr. Patel turned, and shook his head. “I am sorry, Ms. Lyons, no one meeting that description is under my care. She may have been taken to one of the induction camps.”

  Right, the induction camps. Cadence had probably been taken there since I hadn’t been on her plane to advocate for her being brought to the cottage instead.

  “I will come by again in a couple of hours. If you need me before then, send a comm and I will come immediately. When you are through with your breakfast,” he paused, looking at the empty plate, “Put the dishes in the dumbwaiter and send them up.”

  “Dumbwaiter?” I asked, looking around the room like that would help me understand what he was talking about.

  “Yes.” Dr. Patel crossed the room, and pushed a button next to a metal square fixed into the wall. The door slid open, revealing a hollow space. “Dumbwaiter.”

  I grabbed my empty breakfast dish and joined him. I placed the plate on the tray inside the dumbwaiter. He closed the door and pushed a second button. This one had a small up pointing arrow. A metallic whine met my ears, and instinctively I knew that the plate was soaring upwards. It was like an elevator, for food.

  “It is connected with the kitchen. Marin can send food, clothes, whatever you need, using the dumbwaiter. That way you will not have to leave unless you wish to do so,” Dr. Patel explained.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Comm me if you or Mr. Kelley needs anything,” Dr. Patel replied, and then he left.

  I took my coffee and curled up in the chair I’d set by Erik’s bed the night before. The steady hum of the machines monitoring his vitals was oddly peaceful. His breathing was shallow but even, and maybe it was just wishful thinking, but I swore his bruises had faded some.

  “I met your father,” I told Erik’s sleeping form. I waited before continuing, even though I knew he wasn’t going to respond. “He misses you. Your brothers, too.” I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “I don’t think Edmond likes me very much, but Evan seemed to come around after spending the day with me.” I laced my fingers with Erik’s, running the back of his hand down my cheek. I swore his pulse quickened in his wrist, but when I looked at his heart rate monitor, it was steady.

  “Alex is with them. You’d be so proud of him; he’s been so brave. When you wake up,” I choked on the words, tears spilling onto our joined hands. I cleared my throat, “When you wake up,” I repeated, “we can go see them.”

  I continued telling Erik about my journey to California, about becoming the bird and the exhilaration of flying. I told him Penny was alive. Then I rambled on about the attack on the Underground station, and how Henri had been shot but was recovering nicely. I left out the part about him needing surgery – only good vibes in this hospital room.

  “Believe it or not, I stitched up the wound myself!” I said in a cheery voice.

  “Talia?” For one brief second, I dared to hope that it was Erik who’d called my name. I jumped to my feet, sloshing coffee down my nightshirt.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  I heaved out a sigh of disappointment. It was only Crane.

  “Hi, Ian,” I greeted him. I slumped back into my chair as I heard the soft click of Crane’s shoes on the stone floor, which became muffled when he crossed over the
rugs.

  “How’s the patient this morning?” he asked.

  I had a feeling he already knew and was just making idle conversation.

  “Dr. Patel said he’s doing okay,” I replied absently, stroking Erik’s hand.

  “He’s going to get better.” Crane’s voice held so much conviction that hope bubbled up in my throat and fresh tears welled in my eyes.

  “I know,” I whispered.

  We sat in silence for several long minutes. The only sound in the room was the intermittent beeps from Erik’s heart monitor. Finally, Crane cleared his throat, and I knew that he was gearing up to tell my something unpleasant.

  “I’ve been in touch with UNITED, Talia. They’re eager to meet with you, Penelope, and Erik. A handful of the members are on their way here as we speak.”

  “So soon,” I mused softly. I’d known this was coming. One of Crane’s reasons for rescuing Erik was to provide UNITED with proof that TOXIC was using the creation drug. I’d thought I’d have more time to prepare, though. Not that I had any clue what I was preparing for, but still.

  “The sooner they get their proof, the sooner they get involved. The sooner they get involved, the sooner we can stop TOXIC. Further delay will only increase the chances of the news about the experimentation with the drug leaking. If that happens, we’ll have a world crisis on our hands.”

  “I understand,” I said. “What’s going to happen to us, though? I mean, how are they going to determine that we’ve been injected with the drug?”

  Crane’s hesitation was long enough to cause me concern. I turned in my seat to look at him. The Coalition President’s expression was as blank as unlined paper. A chill rippled over my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

  “Ian?” I prompted. “What are they going to do to us?”

  His sigh was like that of a man much older than his years. “A blood sample will prove that you’ve been injected.”