by Zoey Derrick
He nods. “Alright, we can handle that.”
“Perfect. Thank you, Red. For everything.”
“My pleasure, lad, you know that.”
I nod and he leaves the room.
Are you still there?
I feel the fullness return once again. How does she do that?
“I’m here. I do that by becoming one with your angel self. Something you too will learn how to do eventually. I was here the whole time, just distantly communicating with you.”
“See, and here I thought my head was my own when you weren’t around.”
She laughs. “Nope, I’m always connected. It’s just a matter of whether or not I want to listen to you.”
“Hardy-har. Alright. Dr. Alston. Is she familiar with all this angel, otherworldly stuff?”
“Not that I’m aware of. I can check. There are only a few common people that know – or at least think they know – that we exist. So it’s unlikely that she does, but I will ask.”
“No, it’s alright. She was just a little too cool about fast healing. Did you have anything to do with Vivienne’s healing?”
“Nuh-uh. Nope. That’s all you.”
“How me?”
“Your presence is enough. Your kindness, warm nature, your nurturing...and the fact that you’re an angel of course helps, too.”
“Huh?” I guess it is something else to add to my list of learning.
“Not really. I’m not entirely sure there is anything to learn. Her healing is a combination of just you being here supporting her and the natural aura of healing you possess as an angel.” She sounds almost chipper. It’s rather odd, given the circumstances.
Not wanting to discuss this any further because I’m not sure how much more of this I can handle right now, I slide off of the bed and head toward my bag.
I’m going to shower. Any chance you can scram?
She laughs and vacates. Her absence sends a chill through me. I look back to Vivienne, who is still unconscious.
Please let her wake up okay, I pray, and then add, But not before I get back into her room.
Twenty-Nine
After my shower, I start to pace, impatiently waiting for Vivienne to wake up. Around noon, Red brings me lunch from a restaurant near the house that I enjoy, but my nervous energy makes it hard for me to want to eat anything.
Finally I decide to distract myself with work. Not long after I’ve picked up my laptop and replied to a couple of emails, Sydney jumps on my case about working. I let out a nervous chuckle at her response and move onto the emails Jack has been sending me over the last twenty-four hours.
Information about Riley’s background, Elton’s background, some Riley sightings and a new batch of evidence on where he’s possibly hiding. Jack is a real genius at tracking people. I have no doubt that at least half of the information he obtains is illegal, which is why we have to be careful about what we send on to Detective Stevens.
One of the emails catches my attention.
It’s encrypted - for my eyes only. Unfortunately, I’m not equipped at the moment to open it, as I’m not sure of the level of security I have on the hospital’s network. If he is sending this to me, it means he’s found something important in relation to Riley or Elton. Which is good, but it could be pretty bad too.
After the voicemail from Elton yesterday, combined with Sydney’s email, I begin to wonder, idly, what Elton is up to and how he plans to go about ‘destroying me’, as he so eloquently put it. Huh? I wonder if that’s what Jack’s email is about?
I try to push it from my mind entirely, and in doing so, it registers once again that all the humming is gone. Okay, maybe it’s not gone, because I can still feel it slightly as I flex my back and shoulders. For now I’m going to take this as a positive sign that there is little to be concerned about right now.
Just as I think this, a prickling spreads across my skin. It’s not painful, but rather it’s pleasurable. Instinctively my eyes drift to Vivienne lying on the bed, and in the instant that I look at her, I see the corner of her mouth twitch slightly.
My heart swells to see some life in her face. Though her eyes are still closed, that twitch is more than I’ve seen from her in the last day, and I become hopeful that she is going to be alright.
I quickly close the laptop, set it aside and lean forward toward the bed.
“Vivienne.” I gently place one hand on her upper arm and my other hand on her gorgeous red hair, stroking lightly. “Vivienne. Vivienne, can you open your eyes?” I pause a moment, waiting for a reaction.
There isn’t one.
“Vivienne,” I whisper.
Still no response.
I stay where I am, playing with her hair, until Dr. Alston comes in to check on her again.
Before I can tell her about the mouth twitch, Dr. Alston pulls up the blankets at the foot of the bed.
“What are you doing?” I ask a little defensively.
She doesn’t flinch at my tone. “I’m looking for reflexes. To see if she has any reaction.”
She takes a pen from her jacket and runs the top of the pen from heel to toe on one of Vivienne’s feet.
We both watch intently.
After a heartbeat, Vivienne’s toes curl in slightly.
I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.
Dr. Alston checks the other foot, and the end result is the same.
“What does this mean?”
She tries the first foot again and then the other before answering. “Right now it means that her brain is registering sensations.”
“Is the delay in the reaction normal?”
“For now, yes. It really doesn’t mean anything, only that she is still under the medication. Which is okay. As it wears off, that reaction should get a little faster.”
I nod.
“Have you seen any movement?” she asks.
“A little while ago, I thought I saw her mouth twitch.”
“It’s not impossible. About another hour and the sedative should stop working altogether. Once we reach that point, I will be sending Amanda in here to keep a close watch on her vitals.”
She moves around the bed, pulls the tape out from the fetal monitor and begins to look over it.
The action sends a shiver of excitement through me, and I’m not really sure why.
“What kind of plans have you made for her once she is released?” Dr. Alston peers at me out of the corner of her eye. “You know she can’t go back to that apartment,” she states matter-of-factly.
“I’m aware, but her will and determination are going to make it quite the battle.”
She smiles at me. “But you’re just the right person to argue with her.”
I let out a breathy laugh. “You’re right, I am. I have an additional condo in my building that’s not being used. If I can’t convince her to stay with me, she can live there until either she is back on her feet again or this whole mess is taken care of.” As I say this, a sharp warning zing lights up my back, and I get the sudden impression that getting to the bottom of this mess is not going to be an easy task.
“Well, once she is fully recovered, I don’t see any reason that she can’t find a way to take care of herself. Whatever you do, don’t stifle her. You might be able to get her to stay with you or to take that apartment, but whatever you do, make sure that she has the freedom to do things on her own. I could be wrong, of course, but she is very independent, and I don’t see her changing that. So if you can help her while letting her make her own choices, she will be much better off.” She puts down the tape and looks at me. “She needs help, counseling - especially that. I can take care of her physical medical needs, but you need to make sure that she sees a psychiatrist.”
I nod, contemplating. “I wish I could just take it all away from her. All the memories, all the hardship she’s endured. She deserves so much better than that.”
“You’re absolutely right, but we cannot change the things that have happened to he
r, we can only help her move forward.”
She unwraps the stethoscope from her neck and holds it to Vivienne’s chest.
I wonder idly if, when she’s ready, I can convince Vivienne to work for MSBE.
I watch Dr. Alston move the stethoscope around, listening. When she is done, she pulls up the blanket to look at the incision on Vivienne’s ribs. She pulls back the gauze.
“What the hell?” she says.
Thirty
“What’s the matter?” A pulsing radiates throughout my entire body. It’s the same sensation that came yesterday when I got really excited. Oh, no.
“Her incision.”
I panic slightly. Fighting the sensations across my back, I stand up. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing.”
I scowl at her.
“I mean, well, nothing is wrong except for the fact that it’s...” She pauses and I lean over to look. “Come around, you can see better.”
I sidestep the chair and the bed, walking around to come up on Dr. Alston’s right.
“Look.” She holds out her hand. A couple of thick staples rest on her palm.
I look at the area under the bandage. “What on earth? It’s practically gone.” In place of what was probably an angry red incision just yesterday is a faint, nearly perfectly healed line about an inch and a half long.
“I’ve heard of - and even seen - some fast healers, but I’ll be damned if I’ve ever seen anything this fast.” She slowly pulls the rest of the gauze aside and rolls Vivienne forward just a bit.
SERAPHINA! SERAPHINA! DAMN IT, WHERE ARE YOU?
My skin is on fire as I take in what is across her back. Suddenly it all clicks into place.
“Has that always been there?” I ask Dr. Alston.
“Has what?”
SERAPHINA!
Damn it. No wonder. “Nothing. Thought I saw something.”
No Goddamn wonder why my parents could never get anyone to do anything about my back when I was a kid.
SERAPHINA!
They couldn’t see it. I could see it. And Mom could see it, for reasons I now know. But Dad...did Dad ever see it? That would explain why he never asked to see my back after Mom died.
SERAPHINA! Now is not the time to disappear on me. I’m gonna wring her damn neck. SERAPHINA! Damn it, where is she?
“I’m going to order an x-ray of her arm and shoulder. See what is going on in there.” I just nod and move out her way. “Hey, you okay?”
The excited pulsing has not calmed down one bit since I stood up a moment ago. “Yeah, why?”
“You look very distracted.”
“I’m a little jolted by the whole healing thing.”
“So am I. But I doubt that there is a test in the world that can tell me how or why. All I know is that it has and...” She just shrugs.
“You completely baffle me with your nonchalance. Most doctors would be thinking of a way to exploit a miracle like that.”
She laughs. “Mikah, let me tell you something about that.”
I sit gingerly on the side of the bed, giving her my full attention.
“I didn’t go to medical school to be a doctor so that I could become rich and famous. I became a doctor because it gives me a great opportunity help those in need. I specialized in obstetrics because I love babies and I’m thoroughly fascinated by the way we grow and develop in the womb, but I don’t think that the little miracles we see everyday are cause for exploitation. I will just be amazed by it. And maybe do a little research about it,” she admits, “because eventually the curiosity will take over. But in the end, I will do nothing to take advantage of it. I’ve seen a lot in my time that I can’t explain, and I’d rather spend my time on something that I can explain or fix than something that is solving itself.” She smiles at me, warm and genuine.
“I wish there were more doctors like you.”
She chuckles a bit. “I love my job. And her. I fell in love with her when she was here a couple of months ago. She is an intelligent, gorgeous young lady who deserves to have her past wiped away and a future that is bright and full of prosperity, hope and love. Never forget that, Mikah.”
She places her hand on my shoulder, squeezes briefly. “She’s an angel. She deserves to be treated like one,” she says as she leaves the room.
“Oh, you have no idea how right you are,” I mumble.
Then, in my loudest silent mental shout: SERAPHINA!
Thirty-One
Instantly my back is ablaze and the feeling of fullness has returned.
What the hell took you so long?
“What?”
I’ve been screaming for you for at least the last five minutes. What took you so long?
I can’t shake the image of Vivienne’s back from my mind.
Seraphina catches on to what I’m thinking about. “Vivienne?” she asks.
I turn back to the bed and pull back the covers, gently pushing her hip to move her forward.
Peeking out between the gaps of the hospital gown are clear markings of wings that resemble my own.
“Explain this to me?” I say aloud. “What on earth is going on with her?” How is this even possible?
“Sit down, young one, and I will show you.”
I’d rather stand up.
“No, sit down and I will show you.”
Reluctantly, I step back from the bed, walk back around to my chair and take a seat.
“Get comfortable. Relax.”
Instinct has me on edge because I don’t know what to expect. But I lean forward to rest my head on the bed. My right hand plays with a strand of Vivienne’s hair while the other one is rests along her arm.
“Close your eyes.”
I do as she tells me, but I can feel the anxiety rising.
“Relax, young angel. I will not harm you. You’ve already seen most of this.”
The dreams? I relax almost instantly; this is something I’ve wanted to see since Red woke me up this morning. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs, and then slowly exhale.
Suddenly I’m back in the white room on my knees – I can feel the hard floor digging into them. I open my eyes.
Standing behind me is a beautiful, pale-faced Vivienne, her red hair curling down her back, bright against all this white. Atop her head is a tiara, resting right along her hairline. In the center of the circlet is a shiny white opal surrounded by a beautiful silver Celtic design that extends into her hair.
My heart melts. She is simply stunning.
Her dress is white, with silver accents along the bodice. The design is flowery, with a beaded band directly below her breasts. Two thin straps, accented with the same style of beadwork, go up and over her shoulders. Coming off the straps is sheer chiffon that extends down beyond my line of sight.
Looking a little closer, I see that she looks healthier, filled out in her face, and her arms look well toned.
“You look beautiful, A chuid den tsaol.” My voice is not what I expect to hear; it has an echoing quality.
She smiles back at me in the mirror. “Close your eyes.”
I close my eyes and can feel her moving around me. Her hand trails feather-light along my wing; the pleasure it brings is breathtaking. She caresses my wing from where it comes out of my back all the way to the tip, and by the time she reaches the tip, I’m on the verge of losing control. But yet I feel rooted in my spot.
I feel the air shift as she comes to stand on my right. “Turn toward me.”
With the sensation of her touch still pulsing through my body, it is hard to coordinate my movements and turn. I let my shoulders drop slightly, and I feel a rush of air as my wings fold inward. I lift my face but keep my eyes closed as I feel a finger trace lightly along the bridge of my nose down to the tip. Then her finger presses against my lip and I kiss the pad.
She gently lays her palm against my cheek. I lean into her touch, desperate to open my eyes, but I keep them closed, relishing the sensation of her warm touch against my
skin. I raise my right hand and hold hers against my face, weaving my fingers in between hers.
“Keep your eyes closed and give me your hand,” she says, the sound of bells in her voice.
I lift my hand slowly, remembering the way she’s flinched before, but my caution proves unnecessary. I can feel her other hand shift, and then her knees rub along mine as she kneels.
She gently takes my other hand in hers and says, “Open your hand flat.”
I do as she asks and she tugs on my arm. I feel her warmth beneath my fingers, and at my fingertips I can feel the cool metal of her circlet and her cheek pressing into my palm.
She leans into my touch.
My heart soars and warm tears stream down my cheeks as I take in the magnitude of the gesture: She’s just allowed me to touch her face. I feel her fingers along the back of mine as she press my hand to her.
“Do not cry.” I can hear the emotion in her voice, and a moment later I feel her own tears.
I release her hand against my cheek and bring it up to meet her other cheek. Eyes still shut, cupping her face in my hands, I rise up onto my knees.
I feel a soft nudge against my stomach and then feel her press into me. My body becomes a live wire as our bodies draw closer to each other.
She lifts her chin.
I slowly lower my mouth, seeking hers.
When we connect, a surge of pleasure and hope courses through my body; it is almost uncontrollable.
She presses her hands against mine for a moment, holding them against her cheeks, and her fingers weave in between my own. I can feel her tug slightly as I kiss her again, lingering longer this time. Then she pulls my arms past her shoulders until they bump into something behind her. She slowly lowers my hands onto an object. The surge of desire flies through me once again as I come in contact with something hard surrounded by soft velvet.
