by Carli Castle
She ran out of the room, her eyes blurry, her breathing so labored she could hear it in her own ears as if it was amplified. She burst through a door, ran to the nearest trashcan and vomited all the contents of her stomach. She couldn’t even begin to care if someone saw. Wave after wave of nausea poured out of her until there was only acid in her stomach and she could retch no more. Her throat, her jaw were tight and painful from the spasms.
“Parker.” Paul’s voice was still distant but clearer somehow. A hand came to her shoulder, and she looked up from the trashcan, her eyes fixing on his. He had a light in his hand and was shining it directly at her eyes. “Parker.”
“Paul,” she whispered in a pathetic voice she didn’t even recognize as her own.
“Come on,” Paul said, helping her up by her forearms.
She felt herself drop onto a chair. She didn’t know where he had taken her, she just sat there, struggling against nausea and grief.
“Oh no,” she chanted over and over again, her stomach growling like there was something in it still. “What have I done?”
“Parker, you aren’t responsible for his death.” His voice was calm, gentle, as if he had done this a million times before. She looked into his blue eyes seeing only Lucas, wanting him to be Lucas for some reason only her heart knew.
“But I am,” she sobbed, her chest heaving, and her eyes filling with tears. “He came here for help and I didn’t give him that. I’m a healer, I should have been able to heal him.”
“Sometimes there’s nothing we can do.”
“But I wanted to. I wanted to help him.” She knew she sounded like a petulant child, but she didn’t care. “I didn’t even know his name.” She looked up at Paul. “I didn’t even know his name, Paul.”
“They were in bad shape, Parker. Really bad shape,” Paul explained. She looked into his face, seeing him clearly for the first time that night. His eyes were clouded and there were lines under his eyes she’d never before noticed.
“The other one…?” she started and he nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Paul took her hand, held it tightly.
“When I was a boy I always dreamed of going out in the world, finding cures for diseases, helping people that needed care. I never knew it could be like this. I wanted to change the world, and instead, I learned a big lesson. The same you learned tonight. Death has no favorites. No one can cheat her, no matter how savvy they are, or how smart,” he said, his voice like a calming potion. The pain in her heart was still there, the man’s eyes in her mind. “If there is something we have secured in life, is that we will die one day. When the time is right, she will come for us, and we will have to go whether we’re ready or not.”
“That’s a grim outlook,” she said before she could stop herself.
“It’s life, Parker,” he said. “We have it until one day we don’t.”
She knew he was right. Her brain knew it, but her heart continued to ache, regardless. And for the first time since the day she decided she wanted to be a healer, she wondered if it was the right thing for her. Did she have what it took to do this over and over again? Could she ever handle something like this the same way Paul did? So calm and collected.
“Sometimes we want to do things, we work at it, we give it our all, and for some reason or the other, life has other ideas,” he continued. “Sometimes life just decides not to go the way we planned, the way we wanted it to work. But we must still live it, and learn to cope.”
“How do you?” Her voice shook as more tears started sliding down her face.
“Live with it?” He shrugged. “Some days are harder than others. It just gets a lot easier with time.”
She got it. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew people died. And still, as she thought of that man, her heart gave a painful spasm. As if she’d known him forever. As if he meant something to her, other than him being her patient.
A quick knock came. Paul stood, opened the door to reveal Caleb Sillen and—Elle’s heart gave another lurch—Lucas.
“We came as soon as you called.” Caleb’s eyes were focused on her. So were Lucas’s. She had to look away, and wondered when Paul had called them.
“I’ll let you talk in peace.” She stood to leave.
“That won’t be necessary, Miss Dale,” Caleb said. She was sure he knew exactly who she was. “We also need to speak to you.”
Elle’s heart went on a gallop, but she didn’t move. She didn’t have the energy.
Caleb and Lucas walked all the way into the office, closed the door.
“Miss Dale, do you know why we’re here?” Caleb asked her.
“I do,” was all she could say. She couldn’t look at any of them. As mad as she’d been before, all she wanted was a hug from Lucas.
They all sat. She wanted to run away, but she didn’t think her legs would be able to do the deed.
“I understand these men were brought in by fairy workers,” Caleb said.
“I don’t have much information on who brought them in. I was alerted of an emergency and ran down to see what it was all about,” Paul said. Elle was happy to let him take over the conversation, so she just shrank back into her chair and let him talk. “There were seven of them in total.”
Elle’s stomach rolled.
“Seven?” she asked Paul, feeling as if she were about to faint.
“Only our two patients died,” Paul murmured. “The other five will recover.”
Again, she had to wonder when he had found all this out.
“Can you tell me anything about the injuries they suffered?” Lucas asked.
Elle’s stomach bubbled. She didn’t want to think about it. The gash on the chest, the blood. Blood that was still on her.
A wave of nausea took over her again when she looked down at her bloody hands.
“They came in with serious blood loss. There were wounds on their arms that looked defensive. The source of all the blood was from the deep wound on their chests,” Paul explained, and she fought with tears again. “My healing assistant,” he gestured at her, “took charge of one of the men.”
“Why not someone with more experience?” Caleb asked, his eyes on her.
Elle felt a stab of anger at his words. She didn’t need his holier-than-thou attitude, she was already beating herself up enough.
“We’re short staffed tonight. We had to work quickly, so waiting for other healers to come wouldn’t have made any sense,” Paul explained. “I trust Parker’s healing abilities,” he added quietly and Caleb nodded.
Lucas was looking at her. Straight at her face, which she kept down, looking at her feet, which were bloodied, just as much as the rest of her. There was so much blood all over her, in her clothes, her hands, even on her face. Lucas felt the urge to touch her, give her a hug.
She looked slightly green.
“The first man, I believe his first name was Charles, passed about three minutes before the second one did,” his father informed them.
“What was the second one’s name?” Lucas asked him, and he shook his head.
“We didn’t have time to find that out. We’re still investigating.”
A trembling sob came from Parker.
He glanced back at her. Fat tears were running down her face.
She began shaking, her breathing becoming more and more labored. Sweat beaded her forehead, and her face paled, her lips turning just a little bit blue around the edges, her entire body starting to shake uncontrollably.
“She’s having a panic attack,” Lucas said to his father, who knelt in front of her and checked her pulse, and listened to her heart.
“Lucas, I’m going to get her a calming potion, stay with her,” he said and walked out. Caleb went with him to help him with anything he needed.
Lucas took his dad’s place by kneeling in front of her chair, and put his hands on her forearms. She shook his hands away, squealing.
“Don’t touch me!” She sobbed.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn�
��t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He lifted his hands in front of him so she could see them.
She stood abruptly and ran to the door. He followed, aware that she was outside of herself at the moment. He’d heard his father tell him how to deal with panic attacks plenty of times, and even though he was nervous for her, he wanted to be there with her.
“Parker,” he said, walking faster to keep up with her.
“Lucas, go away. Go away!” She screamed. Many other healing assistants looked at them as they passed, but he paid no attention as he steered her toward a patio. It was still raining softly.
“Parker, it’s okay,” he said calmly, though his heart was beating fast. “I understand you’re upset, but I can listen if you need to talk.”
She was still shaking violently, but she looked up at him, and her eyes were unbearably sad. They were deep brown, like rich chocolate. He held her gaze, couldn’t help thinking the color seemed wrong for some strange reason.
He felt a stab of compassion for her, as tears continued to run down her face.
“Are you okay?” he asked and she shook her head. “I understand. I understand very much.”
“Lucas,” she whispered, her face tipped up to his.
That was when it happened. Something just clicked in his head when she said his name. The shape of her face, her nose, her lips. Her eyes.
“Oh my g…” he said under his breath, but couldn’t say anything else, because his father and Caleb walked out onto the patio right then.
“Lucas, you never take a patient out of the hospital without authorization, is that understood?” his father snapped. He never snapped, but he looked furious, which probably meant he was extremely tired and stressed.
“I didn’t, she ran off, and I followed her, because I didn’t want her to be alone,” Lucas explained.
His dad nodded once, and gave Parker—Elle—the potion, which she drank without even looking at it. Lucas couldn’t take his eyes off her. It made so much sense. The eyes and the hair were different colors, but it was all there. He’d drawn her face too many times to miss it.
“I need to ask you a few questions, Miss Dale,” Caleb insisted. Dad scowled at him, and Lucas stood between Elle and Caleb.
“We will talk about it later. She is under no conditions to talk right now,” he told Caleb, who lifted a brow.
“No.” Elle stepped from behind him, still trembling, but looking a lot calmer. Probably from the potion. “What do you need to know, President Sillen?”
“I just need you to tell me what you remember about tonight. If you can handle it right now, of course,” Caleb said to her. She recounted what happened, only stopping once to swallow hard. He stood next to her, wanting to take her away from everything.
When she was done talking, his dad took her inside, and Lucas just stood there with Caleb.
“That makes four victims,” Caleb said. Lucas put Elle at the back of his mind for a moment, as hard as it was to do that after the shock of finding out she was his father’s healing assistant.
“Lana Juren, Jon Carlisle from the night I…” Lucas stopped, images of that night running through his mind. “Charles, and the nameless man.”
“I have to go see King Patrick,” Caleb said, looking tired. “You can go home, I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind coming with you,” Lucas said, knowing Caleb would say no.
“It’s all right,” Caleb said, then teleported to the palace, so Lucas turned around and went to find his dad and Elle. She was walking out of his office when he got there, and he stood back, uncertain as to what he should do. He’d wanted to see her tonight, but this was not what he had imagined.
“Hey.” Her eyes were swollen and red from crying, and he felt a stab of compassion. He went to her and took her arm. Silently, they went outside, and he teleported to his house with her by his side.
He stood aside to let her in the house first. She looked around for a moment before her eyes landed on him.
“Your house is nice,” she said, her voice hollow. “It’s clean.”
“Thanks, I guess. Should I call you Elle or Parker?” He sighed.
She echoed his sigh.
“It’s really weird knowing it’s you and still seeing that red hair.” He gestured at her hair. It didn’t look bad, it actually suited her quite a bit, but he really liked her dark tresses.
“Is it?”
“Yeah, and the eyes just don’t fit.”
“Sorry, I’ll fix it.” She sounded so sad, he wanted to hug her, despite feeling disturbed about all the events of that night. He watched as she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and her hair started changing before his eyes. It went darker and darker as it grew into the waves he was so used to seeing on her. When she opened her eyes, they were green again.
“That’s much less disconcerting,” he mumbled, amazed at her power of transformation. “Do you want to sit down?”
“I don’t know if I should, I would stain everything.”
She was right, he realized as he looked at her clothes. She was completely covered in blood.
“Would you like to change?”
She looked up, surprised. “Really?”
“I don’t have any women’s clothes, but you can borrow anything you want.” He watched her take off her shoes and leave them by the front door. Her toes were red with blood as well, but he would clean anything that needed cleaning later. If there was anything, since the blood seemed to have dried on her. At the moment, he just wanted her to be comfortable. He led her to his bedroom, crossed it, and walked into the bathroom, turning on the light. “Go ahead and shower, the towel on the rack is clean, feel free to use it and anything else in here.”
She gave him a ghost of a smile. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“I will get something you can wear.”
He walked inside the closet to pick out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for her. They would be big, but it would be a lot better than her soiled clothing. About fifteen minutes later, he heard the door to the bathroom open with a weak groan. He didn’t move from his seat by the window in the living room area, where he had been listening to the falling rain, though he wanted to. She was in his bedroom, naked, wet. He sighed, trying to drive away images of her in there, because this was not the right moment for this. She needed a friend, not a horny idiot all over her.
Just a couple of minutes later, she walked out of the bedroom, his clothes hanging on her, almost drowning her. Her hair was hanging in thick ropes around her, and her skin was pink where she had scrubbed.
“Do you feel any better?” he asked her, knowing it was inadequate to ask her that.
“I feel cleaner, but not by much,” she said.
“I won’t ask you to tell me what happened again.”
“And I appreciate that.” She was standing a little awkwardly. He stood from the chair and led her to it, so she could sit in it instead. “Thank you.”
“Would you like some food? I’m not much of a cook, but my mother keeps me supplied.” He told her and she shivered. “I figured I would ask.”
“Thanks.”
“Stop thanking me. What can I do to make you feel better?”
“Nothing, Lucas, let it go. I have to deal with it on my own.”
“Not on your own,” he said. “You don’t have to do it by yourself.”
“Stop being nice, I’m still mad at you.”
“You’re mad at me? I’m the one that just found out you’ve been working with my dad incognito,” he shot back.
“I know, I get it, but I lost a patient today.”
He pulled her to her feet and into his arms. Her face buried into his chest.
“I’m so sorry.” He had a hard time breathing. He scolded himself for letting his mind go there when she was vulnerable. He needed to be a friend, not a lovesick boy. Also, he’d been successful at pushing her away before, why was he doing this again?
Because he’d felt gui
lty, that was why. And now it was hard to think of any reasons why he shouldn’t be around her.
She pushed away from him too soon, then punched him on the arm.
“Hey, that hurt.”
“Good. The moon? Who says that?” She punched him again.
He almost wanted to laugh if she didn’t still look so miserable.
“I did want to talk to you about that,” he said. “Remember I sent you that letter?”
“If you come up with some lame excuse, I’m going to kill you.” She winced at her own words. “I don’t mean that. I’ve had enough of dead people for today.”
“Elle, sit.” He gestured to the couch, and she sat. He took a seat across from her. “You’ve had a rough night.”
“You’re telling me how rough my night’s been?”
“No, I’m noticing,” he said. “You have shadows under your eyes.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve never seen anyone die before.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“Was it the same creatures as before?” she asked, taking him by surprise.
He didn’t respond.
“Lucas.” She leaned forward. “Was it?”
“I don’t know.”
“How many have there been?”
“Four, so far.” He didn’t know if he should be telling her these things, but it was nice talking to someone outside of the council about it. “The sad part is I don’t even know what those creatures really are, or where they come from.”
“Well, my sister used to tell me stories when I was little, because she liked scaring me.”
“Harper?”
“No, the other one.” She gestured with her hand. His heart twisted at the redness around her eyes.
“What did she say?”
“She used to tell me the story of the goddesses, and what happened to human sorcerers when they were possessed by The Darkness.”
“The Darkness,” he repeated, remembering that from when he was little.
“Yeah, I guess that’s what Udyia was supposed to become when she was banished. I can’t remember all of it, but when Demetria had the vision, she saw Udyia become a thing of darkness, possessing people to get the power she couldn’t obtain on her own.”