Hypnos

by RJ Blain

  “You’re a lifesaver, Captain Cortez.”

  “Should I be concerned you mean it literally?”

  My stomach growled a complaint at being empty, and I sighed. “Not really. Don’t listen to what my stomach says. It’s opinionated.”

  The pizza beat the FBI to the police station by ten minutes, and the first time one of them tried to confirm I existed, I snarled, grabbed my pizza box, and held it closer. I didn’t even comprehend who had come calling, but they beat a hasty retreat and left me to eat in peace.

  Several pizzas later, after I’d stopped growling when disturbed, they tried again. For some unfathomable reason, the FBI had opted to sacrifice Rachel and her crew to my temper and appetite.

  “Please don’t kill me,” the quad leader begged.

  “You may have one and only one slice of pizza.” Offering to share my food was a true sacrifice, but I could handle losing four pieces of my pizza to them. Rachel took the bait first, grabbed a slice, and took a guard position by the door. The three men exchanged glances, shrugged, and followed her lead.

  “Six boxes down, how many left to go?” Rachel asked.

  “How much pizza can a hundred bucks buy?”

  “You probably have two or three more boxes with pizza in here somewhere, then. Will that be enough?”

  “For now.” I chomped on another slice, licking the grease off my fingers when I finished devouring it. “Who else is here?”

  “Luke and his quad are fifteen minutes out, your parents will be here in twenty minutes, and there are some others.”

  “Some?”

  “Okay, not some. Everyone. We’re still on leave; Washington sent some quads along with some trainees to cover for us while we undergo evaluations. Apparently, seeing a video of our boss getting smacked around with a nuke and disappearing is traumatic.”

  I needed more pizza to deal with my entire team having been pulled off work. “Huh. I thought half of you bastards would’ve thrown a party.”

  “Well, we made popcorn and watched replays of you batting the warlock around. Also? Watching you get smacked in the head with a nuke and going after it like you’re going for your pizza right now? Priceless. Luke figured you’d gone into the water to recover and would surface when you’d recharged your battery. He also thought you’d come to shore hungry enough to eat an entire cow. I thought he’d been exaggerating, but I’m thinking he was telling the truth.”

  “You’d be hungry, too, if you went a week without eating anything.”

  “I’ll pass on that experiment.”

  “Smart choice.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I have a date with a hospital after I’ve finished eating this pizza.”

  Rachel arched a brow. “But you’re a water elementalist. Aren’t hospitals bad places for water elementalists?”

  “Yep.”

  “How badly are you hurt?”

  “Not a clue, but about halfway to Monterey, I put some serious thought into just saying fuck it. I’m a bruise from head to toe, and I have no idea if I’ve broken anything. Do concussions last longer than six or seven days?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted.

  “Neither do I.”

  “You don’t look bruised, but your hair is a mess.”

  “Be glad it’s just messy. Before, it was messy and filthy.”

  “The cops mentioned you’d rolled on in looking worse for wear and in dire need of a shower.”

  “Yep.”

  “All right. Do you just need a doctor, or should we be carting you off to the ER?”

  “I could just go back to the water and sleep it off for another week.”

  “That’s ER level of talk,” she announced before inhaling her slice of pizza with admirable speed and stepping outside of the room. She poked her head back in. “I’ll have Luke and the others meet us at the hospital.”

  I regarded Rachel’s quad with an arched brow. “What’s wrong with her?”

  Her second in command, David, shrugged. “There’s nothing really wrong with her. I’d say she’s more realized you’re not just a cold-hearted bitch like she thought. You sent us out of the danger zone.”

  “To be fair, I didn’t know we were at risk of being nuked until after.”

  “She knows that. You still sent us out. You didn’t have to.”

  “The koppa oni and his kin?”

  “The babies still need some extra care, but they’ll be fine. They’re in Lafayette until the wildlife center is certain the babies can return to the wild. The parents are enjoying what they view as a luxury vacation. They’re still hunting, but they know they can go back to the wildlife center if they don’t catch anything.”

  I nodded. “Good. The koppa oni populations took a hit, so I’d rather be safe than sorry with that colony. Anything else I should know about?”

  David pointed at Hypnos. “Isn’t that the cause of this whole mess?”

  “He was, but now he’s just mostly harmless.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “He’s doing what I say and not what the warlock says.”

  The quad, as one, shuddered.

  “That’s good enough for me,” David said.

  Hypnos swam off Captain Cortez’s desk and perched on my shoulder. I supposed even tiny death gods recognized when there was safety in numbers and I might be the only one capable of keeping my quads from taking their frustrations out on his scaly rump.

  Chapter Nineteen

  According to the machines, I had a collection of fifty-three hairline fractures, three major breaks, and a broken skull. To add to my medical woes, I had an assortment of internal injuries, although most of them had healed somewhat. All in all, my magic was doing a rather good job of holding me together. Once the first of the results were in, the ER team slapped several dampening cuffs around my wrists to prevent my magic from going haywire, knocked me out, and pieced me back together.

  Once my head stopped hurting, I’d have to ask how they managed to fix my skull without shaving my head. Thanks to the painkillers, I fixated on my hair, which had gone from messy to a certified disaster area. My primary surgeon, Dr. Jamal Sodrin, made notes on the clipboard while I attacked the ends with a comb, refusing to use the damned sling he thought would help keep my fused but sore shoulder stable.

  “If you could please stop trying to damage your shoulder, Special Agent Abrams, I would appreciate it.”

  “Someone has to fix my hair, and the nurses are too busy to fix my hair, and I’m not seeing my minions while my head looks like a crow took knitting lessons before handing the mess over to a cat.”

  “Now that you mention it, that’s a rather apt description of your hair’s current state.”

  “Which is embarrassing at the absolute minimum.”

  “No one is going to think poorly of you for having less than pristine hair following a major operation.”

  I sighed. “While that’s probably true, this is driving me insane. I very much appreciate having a restored skull, but this should be registered as an effective tool of cruel and unusual punishment.”

  “The other procedure to repair a broken skull and ensure it heals involves shaving your head.”

  “Whoever says magic is a bad thing is wrong. It took me years to grow my hair out.”

  “I’d guess at least ten to fifteen years judging from its current length, your age, and your metabolic levels.”

  “Thereabouts.” I tossed the comb onto the side table. “Fine. Recruit one of the people hovering outside to fix this, and I’ll even use the stupid sling. I don’t think the sling is necessary.”

  “It’s not, but it will prevent you from overextending your shoulder for the next few days while the healed bone hardens to full strength. Generally, only one in fifty patients undergoing this procedure break the bone again without the sling. No patients who use the sling suffer another break during the healing process. Who would you like me to invite in first?”

 
“No crying, no flailing, screaming, hovering, or anything else that makes me feel like I’m old, dying, or otherwise trapped in the hospital for an unknown period of time.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I give you an estimate for escape?”

  I lifted my right arm and jangled the dampeners around my wrist. “Yes. I hate these things. I hate them. I can’t even feel the damned glass of water on the stand. I keep seeing it, but I can’t sense it, and it’s really screwing with me.”

  “You’d be overwhelmed by the volume of fluids in the hospital, Special Agent Abrams. Not only that, you might accidentally manipulate something someone needs for their survival. We’ll run you through some more tests in the morning. If you’re still doing well and there’s no evidence your internal injuries are worsening, we’ll release you and have a surgeon local to your home make daily visits to monitor your progress. I expect it will take you another week to recover. You’ll need to return to a hospital for another set of tests to confirm you’re healing well. Yes, you will be required to wear the dampeners before stepping onto hospital grounds.”

  “Honestly, I’m impressed the hospital let me into one of their ambulances,” I admitted. “And that nobody put any dampeners on me until after I was evaluated in the ER.”

  “We were aware of the circumstances. We only put the dampeners on you when we were confident we could handle your injuries without your magic helping. While water elementalists can be destructive in a hospital environment, we do try to avoid killing our patients from being too hasty with the dampeners.”

  “I appreciate that, but I’m going to go out of my mind by tomorrow morning.”

  “I promise that you will survive until you’re released.”

  “I’ll try not to whine too much about it, but I don’t like it.”

  “That’s understandable. You’ve been quite patient.”

  “With the exception of my hair.”

  “When my wife had appendicitis, she had the same exact complaint. She made me braid her hair every day.”

  I laughed. “I might not be happy over my hair, but I’m not going to ask you to braid my hair. Send in the person least likely to cry, wail, have a meltdown, or otherwise add to this generalized disaster. Once my hair is tolerable, I’ll be better equipped to handle more people.”

  “If you feel like you don’t look like a disaster, you can pretend everything is fine?”

  “Basically.” I plucked at the hospital gown. “I’m definitely not dignified while wearing this thing.”

  “I’ll find a volunteer to help. Hopefully, I won’t be long.” Dr. Sodrin sighed. “It might be difficult finding someone who meets your criteria.”

  “If I request anyone, there’ll be jealousy and accusations of favoritism,” I admitted.

  “And a stampede as they compete to get to you first.”

  “Exactly so.”

  “Why don’t I prioritize your guests on your behalf, and I’ll start with someone who isn’t your parents to fix your hair.”

  “They’re having a spectacular meltdown, aren’t they?”

  “They’ve been impatient but behaved, but it’s very obvious they’ll meltdown once they get a hold of you. They’re concerned.”

  “Well, they did get to watch footage of me having a bomb dropped on my head.”

  “Which you ate.”

  I grinned. “They shouldn’t have hit me on the head with it, then.”

  “Right you are. I’ll be back soon,” the surgeon promised.

  He left the room, and I glared at my water glass, which may as well have been empty for all I could use my magic on it. Hypnos came out from hiding under the bed and flitted around the room. The knock at the door sent the koi back into hiding, and Dr. Sodrin returned with Raymond in tow. I saluted my surgeon, who chuckled, shook his head, and excused himself, closing the door behind him.

  “Does fifty-three hairline fractures, three major breaks, a broken skull, and more internal injuries than I care to know count as an acceptable excuse for missing our schedule seduction?”

  Raymond arched a brow. “You had a nuke dropped on your head. I think it’s safe to say you were excused.”

  “Having a nuke dropped on my head wasn’t on the list of allowed excuses. I told you, I’m really bad at this. Also, I’m sorry you got recruited for this, but I’m glad you’re on the short list of people unlikely to meltdown. Also, Hypnos is under the bed, and I think I accidentally adopted him. I feel like he needs a fish bowl so he doesn’t have to hide under the bed.”

  “Is that the drugs talking, or is he really under your bed?”

  “Hypnos?”

  The koi came out of hiding and swam over, flicking his whiskers at me.

  “Well, I’d rather you have the fish than the warlock.”

  “I had the same thought. Apparently, I might wreck my shoulder if I keep trying to brush my hair, but it’s not cooperating.”

  “So the surgeon said when he pulled me aside and asked if I minded helping make your hair presentable. It seems you’re being stubborn about your hair.”

  “I’m wearing a hospital gown, I look like an idiot, I refuse to have anyone see me while I look like a bunch of crows knitted with my hair before handing the mess over to a cat. When my parents come in here, they’re going to cry, then I’ll cry, and damn it, when I cry, I will do so with nice hair.”

  “All right. What’s broken so I don’t jostle you while brushing your hair?”

  “Don’t worry about it. What isn’t broken hurts, so do your thing, and I’ll sit here and pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

  Raymond picked up the brush a nurse had found for me, examined my tangled mess of hair, and shrugged. “Just tell me if it hurts too much. I’ll do what I can to leave as much of it intact as possible, but I’ve seen tidier rat nests.”

  “Do your worst, Detective Hunk.”

  It took Raymond over an hour to conquer my hair. Once he finished brushing my hair, he contained it in a pair of braids to keep it from turning into a disaster area again before I escaped the hospital.

  Knowing how bad my hair could get, especially when I didn’t pay it any attention, I was grateful for the braids. The waves the containment would create would fade within hours, and I’d resume the minimums required to keep my hair presentable as soon as I made my break for freedom.

  “Can you do me a favor?” I asked.

  “If it involves kidnapping you from the hospital until you’re cleared to leave, the answer is no.”

  Damn. I should’ve thought of that. “That wasn’t my initial plan, but I want it to be the plan now.”

  “Answer is still no.”

  “My real request was to ask the people clogging the waiting room to keep all of their bloody weeping internalized. I’m too tired to deal with weeping right now. Especially my old man. If he feels a need to be weepy, he can come back in the morning. I don’t want a ride on that train wreck today, Raymond.”

  “They’re emotional for a reason.”

  “They can be happy emotional, and save their happy crying for after I’m napping. They can indulge when I’m asleep. I ate a nuke so they wouldn’t cry, so no crying.”

  “You ate a nuke because you were pissed it hit you on the head.”

  “That, too. Come on, give me some credit here. As soon as I was coherent, I went right to a police station. And maybe I did eat the nuke because it pissed me off, but I think I should be able to claim I took severe offense to them dropping a nuke on me in the first place. I thought I’d done a good job.”

  “No one said you hadn’t, but if you think you’re going to get any of that lot in here without the weeping, you’re delusional.”

  Damn it. “But I don’t want to deal with any weeping today, Raymond.”

  He flicked the tip of his finger against my nose. “You’ll be fine. I’ll pass on your request, but don’t get your hopes up. For some reason, they love you.”

  I should’ve dubbed him Detective Asshole, Dropper of
Truth Bombs. Truth bombs hurt about as much as a nuke, and he wielded his weapon of choice with annoying accuracy. “I’ll deal with it, but you better have me scheduled in for a damned good seduction, buddy.”

  “Your health allowing,” he conceded. “You know, nobody is going to judge you for openly loving people.”

  “Like hell they won’t.”

  He chuckled. “You’re just going to have to deal with it. In good news, this hospital does have visiting hours, so they won’t be here all night long.”

  “I’ll forgive this travesty if you smuggle me in a few pizzas.”

  “Still hungry?”

  My stomach answered for me, and I shrugged. “I could eat.”

  “When can you not eat? I’ve never seen you refuse food put in front of you.”

  “No matter what I say, I can’t win this one, can I?”

  “Nope. But I’ll ambush a nurse and see if they’re all right with me smuggling in some pizza for you. And if they aren’t, I’ll try to smuggle some in for you anyway.”

  “Now we’re talking. One seduction and pizza in exchange for dealing with the crying.”

  “If that’s what it takes to make you happy, sure.” Shaking his head, Raymond laughed and left the room.

  Within five minutes, the invasion began, and because I refused to be the first to cry, I crossed my fingers as my parents entered the room. “Back, weepy people. There will be no crying in this room, damn it!”

  My declaration stopped them in their tracks, and my parents blinked, doing a damned good impression of owls. My laughter bubbled out of me, and despite my edict, tears of mirth blurred my vision. Incapable of forming a coherent sentence, I pointed at them and laughed.

  Luke eased into the room, took a look at my parents, and joined me laughing. “Your expressions are hilarious, and if you expect her not to laugh while high on painkillers, I’m going to laugh even harder at you. Hey, boss. I’d say you’re looking good, but you hate when I lie to you. Nice hair. Did it really take Ray an hour to tame it?”

  “Crows knitted with my hair before handing the mess off to a cat. It was that bad. You try exposing your hair to salt water for a week and see what happens. I’m lucky I still have hair.”