by LJ Rivers
As I entered the hospital’s grounds, I slowed to a jog. It had been closed for a while, but was recently reopened after the Mag-flu virus roamed the country. Ravenscourt was one of the few hospitals that had admitted the infected Mags and distributed the vaccine once it became available. After its valiant efforts, Jarl Colburn, of all people, had given the hospital a generous donation which enabled it to be operational again.
It surprised me a little that they hadn’t taken Nick to Hammersmith Hospital, since Ravenscourt worked predominantly with Mag patients. Then again, if they had brought Mags in after the attack, then I supposed it was only natural for Nick to come here as well. The campaign office was closer too, but I didn’t want to think about why they didn’t have time to move him the short distance to Hammersmith Hospital instead.
The scent of roses tickled my nostrils as I hurried through the meticulously kept garden towards the main entrance. An older couple walked past me, heads bowed, murmuring to each other. The man was human, but the woman was not. An eagle Shifter, I thought. She was limping, and the man supported her through the garden. Further in, a young man was occupying one of the many benches, and a flock of pigeons surrounded his feet, nibbling at whatever crumbs fell from the food in his lap. Somewhere in the back of my mind, Dad reminded me it could be ‘a flight or a kit of pigeons’, too. I smiled at the memory.
A small group consisting, by the looks of them, of four Mags and one human, was shouting from the top of their lungs, “Britain for Mags!” They marched back and forth in front of the main entrance.
However much I worried about Nick, I couldn’t stop my stomach from somersaulting as I neared the front of the hospital and past the protestors. The sun glinted in Brendan’s hazel-coloured hair from where he stood by the doors. The necklace Mum had given him for Christmas twinkled around his neck in the rays as he opened his arms.
I rushed forward, throwing myself into his embrace. It was only a couple of weeks since I last saw him, but we hadn’t had much time to catch up since we got back together—after I put him on ice for far too long. I had needed the distance. Now that I could finally make room for him, however, he was about to leave to train for the Olympics. But spending time with Mum had taken precedence over romance, and Brendan, being who he was, understood. He would wait for me, and I for him.
I took a step back and glanced at the entrance. “How is he?”
“In awful shape, Ru. It’s been a while since we heard from the doctors, and Jen is climbing the walls in there.”
“She hasn’t—”
“Not yet. But I don’t think her wolf is hidden especially deep below the surface. I caught her snarling at one of the nurses about half an hour ago.”
“Best not to keep them waiting, then.” I clasped his hand, and we went inside.
Brendan led me to the second storey and down a brightly lit hallway.
“What if it’s too late?” Jen’s voice was harsh and loud.
“Ru will be here any second,” Charlie said. “He’ll be fine.”
“You could have helped.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
I cleared my throat as Brendan and I turned a corner and entered a waiting area full of people. Not a single seat available. There had to be at least seven or eight different groupings of families and friends of other victims of the attack. I shifted my gaze. Jen was on her feet, waving her finger in Charlie’s face, clearly oblivious to the strangers listening in.
“There she is.” Charlie sent me a pleading look.
I waved as Jen spun towards me. She strode over and drew me into a hug.
“I’m so glad you’re here. He—he’s—”
I stroked her hair and held her tight. “I’m here, love.”
Gemma sat on Duncan’s lap next to Charlie. She whispered something in his ear. Whatever it was made him wrinkle his nose and shake his head. Gemma frowned, her upper lip rising above her teeth. The two of them had made up after Gemma had suspected Duncan was cheating on her, but it was still a rocky road. Now that she knew about Duncan’s money problems, and that he couldn’t keep providing for her in the shape of Manolo Blahniks and jewellery from Tiffany’s, he was having a hard time keeping her happy. I was certain Gemma appreciated things that didn’t cost an arm and a leg, too, though Duncan was struggling to figure out what that was. I waved my fingers at them, peeking over Jen’s shoulder.
Gemma nodded back. Despite her love for all things shiny, recent events had proved there was more to her than that. She had saved my father from death—twice—and no matter how my relationship with Auberon had turned out, she had earned my gratitude and respect.
Next to the miserable couple, Charlie curled up in her chair, hugging her knees. Her eyes shone with tears, and I wanted nothing more than to include her in my hug with Jen. Instead, Brendan went to her side and comforted her. He crouched next to her and patted her gently on her arm. Only a short while ago, that act would have summoned a green monster of jealousy in me, but not now. Neither of them would ever betray me, and I trusted Brendan. He loved me as much as I loved him.
“Excuse me,” a friendly voice said. I turned and looked down at the familiar man in a white coat.
“Dr Crawford? Ainsley!” I smiled weakly. “You work here now?”
The Goblin doctor held a clipboard to his chest and raised his chin. “Ever since the Mag-flu. I was transferred here to help out when they turned Ravenscourt into the main Mag-flu hospital. Once they decided the hospital was to stay open, I stayed too.”
“Good to see you again, though I wish it had been under less dire circumstances.”
Ainsley craned his head further up at Jen. “Mr Thompson, Nick, is in recovery. He has multiple fractures and has suffered severe injuries to several organs.” He took Jen’s hand in his. The last time we had seen Ainsley, Jen was the patient, fighting the Mag-flu. “We have had to put him on life support. I’m afraid his prognoses are uncertain.”
“C—can I see him?” Jen asked, her lips trembling.
“As I told you before, we only allow family members, and you’re not family.”
Jen withdrew her hand and crossed her arms. “But his parents are in Nepal, and his brother isn’t answering his phone. I’m the closest thing to family he has.”
“My apologies, Miss Lune, but this is hospital policy.” He looked at me and pursed his lips. “The nurse will check in on him in his room, two-one-six, in twenty-five minutes. We have excellent staff here, though we do lack a certain kind of … expertise. That said, I’m feeling rather optimistic.” He winked and went to talk to another group of people in the waiting area.
Jen threw her hands up, tears painting her cheeks.
“I’ll take Jen to grab a coffee,” I told the others, then lowered my voice as much as I could. No one else would hear what I said, apart from the wolf in front of me. “We have twenty-five.” I wanted to sit with Charlie for a bit, but given the time frame, it would have to wait.
We made our way to room two-one-six and slipped inside unnoticed. The beep of the machines was something I had become increasingly familiar with over the past couple of weeks at the sanctuary, but it wasn’t something I thought I would ever get used to. It reminded me too much of the fragility of life.
“Mon cher.” Jen strode to Nick’s side and put her hand on his cheek. “Ru’s here now.”
I glanced at the monitors and shuddered. This was far worse than I had imagined. Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward and stood on the opposite side of Nick’s bed. His nose and closed eyes were barely visible underneath all the bandages. One of his legs was strung up, wrapped in a cast, and his arms were covered in bruises wherever the skin was exposed between the amount of bandages, which covered most of his skin from head to toe.
“Heal him, Ru. Please!” Jen looked at me with big eyes, her blue irises swimming in tears.
“I’ll do what I can.” Looking at him, however, it would take a lot of energy. He wasn’t even breathing on his own, and I wa
sn’t sure I could heal that. Though my powers had increased, and I felt stronger every day, I still had limits. Not every illness could be magically healed. Thinking back, I recalled having healed Gemma’s arm. In fact, it had literally grown back. But then again, she was a Shifter, whereas Nick was wholly human. Besides, it wasn’t just the one injury. By all accounts, he was hovering close to death.
I inhaled a sharp breath and placed my palms on his chest. My favourite power tingled in my veins, spreading warmth as if the very sun inhabited my core. It flowed out, shimmers of light knitting across Nick’s body, dipping in and out below his skin. My heart rate quickened, and beads of perspiration gathered on my brow as bones snapped back in place and internal wounds began to close. Panting, I retracted my magic and took a step back from the bed.
Jen shifted her gaze between Nick and me. “What’s wrong? Why did you stop? He’s still hurt.”
“He’ll live.”
“He’ll live? You can’t be serious. He’s still hurt, Ru.” She shook her head. “Keep going. I need him to wake up.”
“I can’t very well heal all of him all at once.” I stepped back towards the bed and reached out to stroke her cheek. “It would be too suspicious if he suddenly recovered and—”
“But Ainsley is a Mag. Surely, he would understand.”
“Which is why he gave us an opening to come in here. But just because he knows what we are, and we know what he is, doesn’t mean we can advertise it to the entire hospital. He said himself that they don’t have ‘special’ kinds of staff here. Besides, Nick had so many injuries it would drain me of energy, and with everything going on, I might need my powers again.”
“So, you’re just saving your battery, is that it?” Jen snapped her head away from my touch. “This is Nick we’re talking about, not some random stranger.”
“I’m aware.”
“He saved your life, remember?”
While I understood her frustration, I had become more aware than ever of how important it was to preserve energy after having spent the last fortnight working at the sanctuary. The separation from my powers during the cage fight was also fresh in my mind, and I didn’t want to feel that powerless ever again.
“Of course I do. Listen, I know this is rough, but Nick’s a fighter and I’ve healed him enough so he’ll be able to make a full recovery on his own. Given time. That said, I’ll come back and heal him again tomorrow, enough so they might allow him to leave the hospital next time. Sound good?”
Jen looked down. “OK.” She kissed Nick on his forehead and sniffed. “I’ll be back, mon cher.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
Her ears pricked up, and she moved towards the door. “A nurse is coming. She just entered the room next door. We have to go.”
We had been in Nick’s room too long. Carefully, I opened the door and peeked outside. The hallway was empty. “Come on.”
We closed the door behind us and went back to the waiting area.
I locked eyes with Charlie and all but ran to her. She stood to meet my open arms. “I missed you!”
“I missed you too, Ru.” Charlie giggled through her tears. “Is he better?” she whispered.
“Better, but not awake. I had to—”
“Of course, babe. You’ll heal him again later. The important thing is that he’ll recover.”
Without my saying so, Charlie understood my reasons, giving me her instant approval. We had overcome so much together, and we were closer than we had ever been.
Someone stirred in my side vision, and I untangled myself from Charlie to take Brendan’s hand.
“Anyone hungry?” Brendan asked.
Gemma skipped to her feet. “Starving.”
“I could eat,” Duncan said.
Jen shrugged, but didn’t protest as we all marched down to the cafeteria on the ground floor. After we had all settled with waffles, coffees and the works, I decided it was time.
“Want to tell me what happened?” I asked Jen.
She picked at the seeds on the baguette in front of her. “I was working. Nick was only visiting me. He doesn’t even like me working with the campaign. Something about placing myself in the line of fire.” Her lips quirked up slightly on one side. I knew all about recklessly running to the front lines. “So, anyway, I was out in the back garden with a few others, painting a banner, when I heard the crash. I heard the roar of the engine first, but it didn’t occur to me how close the lorry was. There’s so much traffic, and—” Her voice cracked.
I lay my hand on her arm. “You couldn’t have known, Jen.”
“Maybe if I was more alert.”
Brendan laced his fingers on the table. “The lorry would’ve swerved off the street and crashed into the building in no time at all. No way you could have anticipated it.”
Jen kept cleaning the seeds off her food, which she had yet to take a bite of. “Maybe. Once I heard the crash and the screams, I rushed inside. There were so many smells and sounds, I could hardly focus.”
“You know,” Gemma said. “It’s possible to train yourself to shut out the noise and focus only on what matters. I could—”
“Gemma!” Duncan barked. “Not now.”
“Why not?” she huffed. “She would be so much better off if she would simply work on her abilities more, instead of relying solely on her instincts.”
“This isn’t the time,” Duncan said between his teeth.
Gemma rolled her eyes, but thankfully stopped talking.
A low growl issued from Jen’s chest before she continued. “One of the girls I work with rang 999 while I searched for Nick. I think the lorry must have hit him just before it came to a stop, embedded in the back wall.”
“How many people were injured?” I asked.
“Ainsley said there were five casualties, and they have twelve people in the ICU with severe injuries, including Nick. I know most of them, though I’ve only just started working there. There were only a few people who got away more or less unscathed. The four out back with me and three who were in the printer room when it happened.”
“Let’s see what the news has to say.” Charlie produced her iPad and started swiping. She gaped. “It seems the Lionhearts have taken responsibility for the attack.”
Jen bared her teeth. “Those Mag-hating lunatics.”
“Seems a bit drastic,” I said. “Even for them. Maybe they’re just taking the blame because they feel it furthers their cause? Anyone opposing Jarl Colburn is surely viewed as having more liberal Mag-politics.”
“It’s possible,” Charlie said.
“Whoever did this has to pay.” Jen grabbed the baguette and took a big bite. She proceeded to chug half a bottle of coke, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I need to sink my teeth into someone.”
Chapter Six
Charlie spent the next quarter of an hour hunched over her iPad looking for more information about the attack, while the rest of us finished our meals. Jen had agreed to postpone her own not-so-digital hunt, to stock up on a second baguette. Gemma seemed intent to get Duncan back in a good mood, running her fingers through his hair and kissing him on the neck.
“Shh!” She spun away from Duncan.
“I hear it, too,” Jen said.
The fox and the huntress stood in unison, sniffing the air and tilting their heads.
“You look like dancers,” Charlie suggested. “Perfectly choreogr—”
“Bollocks!” Gemma stomped her foot to the ground. “Sorry, Char. I didn’t mean you.”
For a second, I wondered if her two-hundred quid heels would break. Then I heard the ruckus, too, as did the rest of our gang.
Charlie leaned over and showed me her iPad screen. “The hounds are faster than JC’s press officer.”
On the screen, Colburn’s Twitter confirmed what was happening by the main entrance, on the other side of the cafeteria. Britain’s next prime minister, and leader of both the political and religious movement against Mags came m
arching through the lobby. Surrounding him was his usual posse of journalists and photographers, all kept at a safe distance by a walking wall of black-clad muscle.
“He’s got some nerve!” Brendan said.
“And that’s precisely what will get him into Ten Downing Street.” Duncan agreed. His parents had been loyal supporters of Colburn’s ‘Coalition of Purity’ for years, which had contributed to widen the gap between them and their son. “I bet he’s already chosen the drapes and bed linen.”
Jen moved next to me. “Well, now I know what to use my fangs for. To be honest, Red, I’m struggling big time to stay put.”
“You have to,” Charlie said. “It would serve no purpose whatsoever to assault—”
“I won’t, obviously.” Jen gnashed her teeth so hard even I could hear it.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“No.”
“Just don’t make me throw a force field around you. It would make headlines from here to election night.”
A low grumble sounded from the back of her throat, as if the District line ran right under the cafeteria floor. “I’ll be good.”
We walked over and joined the crowd in the lobby. The reporters were firing questions at Colburn, who stood quietly and listened. One of his staff leaned in and whispered something in his ear, and Colburn nodded. A chair came through the air, and my first instinct was to stop it with a force field; I had already loaded one in my right palm. I retracted the tiny sphere into my skin when black-clad muscle number one lowered the chair and Colburn climbed up on it.
He was so professional, so used to controlling his audience. He raised his arms, and the buzzing slowly receded, as if he were a conductor waiting for the symphony orchestra to finish tuning their instruments.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he started, using the old, well-proven technique of speaking quietly so everyone had to listen more carefully. “Our beautiful city has been attacked. Moreover, our democracy and freedom have been attacked. Violated. Assaulted.”