“Black’s going to be in surgery for at least a few hours, doc...” She hesitated. Shaking her head, she swallowed, as if stopping herself from saying more. “Don’t worry about any of that right now, doc. We’ve got a lot of people here... it’s covered.”
I nodded, biting my tongue.
I hadn’t meant to read her that time, but I felt a glimmer of her thoughts anyway. They weren’t really focused on protection for Black, not yet. Nick told them it was a bullseye shot. The Templar got him right in the heart. They wouldn’t need to worry about keeping Black alive if the Templar had already killed him.
They were more worried about me.
“Why are we here?” I said, clenching my jaw. “If you all think he’s going to fucking die, then why are we here? Why not have this little get-together at the station?”
I saw her wince, and went on before she could say anything.
“Why are you here?” I said again, clenching my jaw. “Why is Mozar here? Didn’t he like Black for the Templar like five minutes ago?”
She rubbed my arm. “Mozar and his people didn’t realize how serious it was until they got here, doc. They were hoping to talk to Black. We were getting ready to go, actually.” She continued to rub my arm, softening her voice. “Mozar wants to debrief. So does the Captain. We were going to head down to the station, but everyone agrees you should sit in if you can. Not leave the hospital,” she added, gripping me tighter when she felt me stiffen. “We’re not asking you to leave here, Miri. But Black’s going to be in surgery for awhile. We’re hooking up a virtual station for you so you can sit in from here. Mozar’s already got you a room. Here, I mean... in the hospital.”
She hesitated, looking around us cautiously. “Hawking will be there,” she added, lower. “Maybe not at first, but they’ll bring him in. Nick and I thought you might want to look into that, Miri. Him, and whatever else you can pick up on while we talk. So if you’re up for that...”
“Have they found anything?” I said. “On the island?”
Hesitating, Angel shook her head.
She started to say more when the two tall people I’d noticed earlier walked directly up to me. Something about their mutual heights and the stillness of their expressions made them look eerily spectre-like, despite their normal clothes. I looked up at them without bothering with a greeting. I waited for them to say something instead.
They did, but not aloud.
You need light, sister, one of them said politely. Do you mind if we assist you in this? You might need more of it now, especially if you intend to work with these police officers.
I stared up at them, confused.
Your living light, a different voice clarified. You have depleted yourself. The symptoms are becoming... problematic. For you, that is, sister.
I assumed the other seer had spoken that time, since his mental voice sounded different than the first voice I’d heard. The second one was lower and more melodic.
He also felt and sounded like he was in charge.
I found myself looking between them, trying to match what I felt and heard in them with their faces. The one standing closest to me had dyed blond hair, and was about an inch taller than the other one, who had to be six-four, at least. The shorter one had chocolate brown hair, a sculpted mouth, and a bright red tattoo of a sun on the side of his neck. He smiled at me gently, and I found myself thinking his was definitely the second voice I heard.
You’ve given most of your light to your mate, beautiful sister, that same voice continued, his cadence reassuring, kind. His smile grew kind, as well. This is right of course, and any of us would have done the same... but now you are depleted, sister. Your uncle would not like it if we allowed you to make yourself ill. He paused, the look in his eyes verging on apologetic. Your mate would not like this either, sister. And while it is not normally appropriate for mated seers to share light with anyone other than their mates, this is an unusual circumstance. He will understand. And he will probably need more light from you before this is finished. It is better to rest now and recharge, beloved, while he is with the others who are helping him now...
I was already nodding, now that I understood.
“Sure,” I said. “Okay. Thanks.” I looked up at them both. “Thank you.”
Bowing to me, both men retreated.
When I glanced at Angel, she was frowning, watching their retreating backs.
“What was that about?” she said. “Miri?”
I felt my mouth harden. “They’re helping,” I said.
“Helping?” She grunted. “Do I want to know what that means?”
“Leave it alone, Ang.”
She looked at me, like she wanted to argue, then closed her mouth with a snap.
Barely two seconds passed before I felt something shift around me.
Rather than what I’d felt at the lake––that pulling, throwing myself outward thing I’d done whenever I touched Black––this felt like that process only in reverse. It felt like someone was dumping something on me, especially my head and chest. Whatever that something was, it was warm, liquid, buzzing with energy. I distinctly felt whispers of the presence of the two seers who’d just been talking to me, too. Something felt vaguely uncomfortable in that, and I suspected it was because there was an element of intimacy in feeling them this way.
Pretty soon, there was so much of that liquid energy, my vision blurred.
I also felt myself exhale, felt my muscles starting to unclench.
“Sorry,” I said to Angel, my voice subdued. “But it’s okay. They really are here to help.”
She frowned. I could tell she wasn’t convinced. “And you’re sure, doc, that this Templar guy isn’t one of theirs?”
I frowned as I thought about her question. “No. I’m not sure. I’m not sure about anything anymore, Ang. But I don’t think it is. I think the guy we’re looking for is human.”
When I glanced over, I saw Angel once more staring at the two men who’d just left. They now sat in adjacent chairs in the far corner of the waiting room, not far from a muted television that showed cartoons. One of them was flipping through a celebrity magazine. The other had some kind of tablet on his lap and was scrolling through what looked like written text.
“Do you know those guys, doc?” Angel said.
I shook my head, looking away from them.
“No,” I said.
Before I could say more, a nurse walked up to me, touching my arm gently. I turned, but could barely focus on her face for all the light pouring down on me now.
I felt clearer though. More awake.
I could feel my brain moving again.
I hadn’t yet decided if that was a good thing or not.
“Excuse me, dear,” the nurse said gently. “We need some information from you. Is now a good time? It’s usually better to get this stuff out of the way as early as possible...”
Angel immediately bristled, going into mama bear mode.
“What kind of information?” she said. “This isn’t a good time.”
The nurse blinked up at her in surprise, then returned her gaze to mine.
“You’re Miriam?” she said to me.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“What does her name have to do with anything?” Angel snapped. “I just said this isn’t a good time. We’re in the middle of a police investigation...”
I could feel Angel’s fear.
She was afraid the nurse was going to give me bad news. She was afraid the nurse was here to tell me Black was dead. Angel was trying to wave the nurse off from doing that. But I already knew that wasn’t what the nurse wanted.
The second she touched my arm, I checked that nothing had changed with Black.
What the nurse did want only confused me, though, particularly given my current state of mind. Something administrative was all I caught before I clicked out, feeling my heart go back to its normal level of hammering once I understood she wasn’t about to tell me Black died before they could
get him on the table.
What the nurse wanted had nothing to do specifically with what was happening in that surgery theater at all. It more confused me with its meaninglessness––something to do with paperwork. Whatever it was, it was routine and bureaucratic and I couldn’t make myself care enough to even be annoyed. Moreover, I doubted I could even help her.
I didn’t know any of that stuff. Maybe Lisbeth knew.
That light cascading into me from the two seers sitting in the opposite corner of the room made it difficult for me to even focus on the nurse’s face.
The nurse looked between me and Angel, then seemed to decide Angel was the one who needed calming down first.
“Ma’am, everything is fine. I am simply required to discuss certain details with next of kin. We’ve never had Mr. Black or his wife at this hospital before... we need information from her relating to his care.”
“Wife?” Angel stared at me. Understanding reached her, and I saw her eyes widen.
I didn’t answer, or really meet her gaze.
“You are Mr. Black’s spouse?” the nurse said, now looking at me with a slight frown. “I was told you were.”
Hesitating a bare breath, I nodded. I glanced at Angel as I did, my expression holding some element of apology, or maybe embarrassment.
“Yes,” I said.
I felt shock expand off Angel in a cloud.
Nick walked up from Angel’s other side even as I said it, his sleeves rolled up and bare. His face and hair were damp and his skin was pinker than usual, like he’d just scrubbed himself clean using some kind of industrial soap. He gripped his leather jacket in one hand, striding up with a scowl on his face as his eyes swept the three of us standing there.
“What’s going on? Did Black’s status change? I thought he was in surgery?”
The nurse sighed, like she was used to people flipping out on her for just trying to do her job. She focused solely on Nick and Angel that time.
“Look, everyone needs to calm down. This isn’t about the surgery... and Mr. Black is in very capable hands right now, I promise you. I understand that you people are her friends and trying to protect her, but I need Mrs. Black to answer some questions about her husband’s wishes, in the event the situation changes while he’s in with the physicians...”
“Husband?” Nick paled. “Mrs. Black?”
He looked at me and opened his mouth, then shut it again.
I saw the wheels turning in his head, then he shook his head at the confused nurse and frowned. He badged her a second later, holding up his detective’s shield.
“Look. Whatever you need from her, can it wait? This isn’t a good time.”
The nurse sighed, looking at all three of us.
“It’s better to handle these details at the outset,” she said patiently. “This isn’t about insurance... all of those details were handled by his company. This is about his personal wishes. His assistant was able to answer a few of those questions, but not all of them. And frankly, I’m required to interview next of kin, if they are available.” She nodded towards me. “His wife is next of kin. It will only take a few moments, but I need to speak with her in private. Unless you are relatives of Mr. Black, then you can be present if Mrs. Black approves.”
Nick opened his mouth to argue, but that time, I laid a hand on his arm.
“Just... leave it, Nick.” My voice sounded tired. “Let me do it. Then it’ll be done and we can talk about the rest.”
Nick stared at me, that shock still glimmering in his dark eyes.
He didn’t argue with me though.
I could feel him and Angel staring at me as the nurse led me away.
I DON’T REMEMBER falling asleep.
I definitely didn’t think I would fall asleep, not then––not even with how exhausted I must have been by the time I finally got to see Black.
Most of that day went by in a dream, with me sitting in an empty room with a propped up tablet, listening and watching while other people talked and argued and went through different options for how to organize the investigation going forward. I also asked for and received a file box to go through of all of the case information on the Templar from Los Angeles.
I had to step out for a lot of phone calls.
Kiko called me from L.A., probably not long after she got done handling all the details with Lisbeth and whoever else on her end.
She reassured me right off that they had people in the hospital, keeping an eye on both me and Black.
She also updated me on the investigation down there, after we talked for awhile about what happened at the lake. Black had her and Dex running down names of possible Archangel operatives who’d been living in Los Angeles at the time of the murders. One looked good as a possible candidate to be the Templar, especially after they broke into an apartment of his down there, maybe his real one, as opposed to the staging one that Mozar and his people found.
Apparently he’d still been paying rent on this one, although Kiko told me it looked abandoned. She also told me it was relatively normal for people in that line of work to have more than one address they used, especially if they were live operatives.
They found a marked up Bible and tools to clean and sharpen a sword––but they couldn’t get any real information on the man who’d lived there. No photographs, of course, and no fingerprints, so Kiko wasn’t sure if any of what they had would help. The name on the apartment lease was an obvious fake, the tenant paid long distance via wire transfers, and no one had ever seen him, even though he’d rented the place for three years.
Kiko and Dex still didn’t know what he looked like, his age, anything about his associations or how often he’d slept there. The guy really was a ghost. He also must have entered his own apartment through the windows or only in the middle of the night, since not one neighbor had any memory of ever seeing him.
I listened to everything she said, and I got the feeling it was the same person, but there was no way to know, of course, not without going down there myself. I told Kiko to send me some of his things if she could, or else bring them up if they were heading back.
She told me she’d overnight the Bible and the sword-sharpening kit, then they had one more potential lead to check out while they were down there. She and Dex would fly up directly after––probably some time tomorrow morning.
Through that whole conversation, as well as the subsequent meetings with the police where I watched and listened from the background, a significant chunk of my attention remained on listening with some part of my mind for news on Black.
My uncle’s medical techs checked in with me first.
They told me they’d worked with the human surgeons to make sure they helped him rather than harmed him. They said the two of them had worked on Black directly, as well.
They also explained why Black had gone out the way he did, saying there was a “shut-down” reflex in seers when they sustained life-threatening injuries, and that Black’s kicked in fast––probably due to the severity of the hit.
Either way, it had been too fast for them to pull him out of it. They said that same reflex more or less induced a coma, which is why I couldn’t feel him. They seemed to think that side of things was perfectly normal, though, and nothing for me to worry about on its own.
They also told me that the biggest danger to him was his lungs and kidneys, which surprised me. Apparently the bullet hadn’t hit his heart at all, which was located in the middle of the chest on a seer, not on the left side, like a human. The kidneys were larger in seers though, and shaped differently. They also slid up under the ribs on both sides of his back. The bullet had apparently torn up part of his left kidney and collapsed his lung.
I didn’t understand a lot of what they told me.
They talked about how the organ walls were different on seers, due to the different placements of the major ones. They talked about how the tissue structure and texture were different too.
They’d had to erase a few of the
more bizarre elements of those things from the surgeons’ memories and minds, but there would still be “questions,” according to the head tech among the seers. He let me know that some of my uncle’s people had read the human physicians in Black’s company as well, and were now familiar with the cover story Black had been using all these years. Apparently that same cover story had more or less remained intact, all the way back to when he worked directly for the United States military.
I could tell my uncle wasn’t thrilled about some of this.
“He’s damned lucky no one’s figured out he isn’t human, Miri,” he said to me, during our one and only phonecall after Black got out of the first round of surgeries. “Much less what that really means. Your mate certainly likes taking risks, doesn’t he?”
“No,” I said coldly. “He doesn’t, actually.”
Listening to the silence my words produced, I bit my lip, fighting back a harder anger. I didn’t want to fight with my uncle. Especially now, when I knew I owed him a lot. Maybe even Black’s life, at least in the short term.
“...Look.” I sighed. “This is my fault as much as his. I should have asked him. I should have known what to do in a situation like this. I know Black. He must have something in place... some number to call. People who look out for him. Something.”
“Well, now you have me,” Uncle Charles said, matter-of-fact. “I just hope he hasn’t killed both of you, Miriam, fooling around with this human nonsense.”
But I couldn’t listen to any more.
“I have to go, Uncle Charles.”
“Miriam––”
“I really have to go.”
“Please, Miri. I’m sorry––”
“Thank you. Thank you for this...” I trailed, searching for more to say. The words I used felt inadequate, but I couldn’t think of any others. I couldn’t make myself want to talk to him any longer either, at least not right then.
After a too-long pause, I just clicked the button on the screen to hang up.
I walked back to the small administrative office the police staked out for me as a work space a few seconds later. After standing in the hall while I tried to control my head, I noticed the two uniform cops there watching me, and forced myself to go back inside. I jerked open the door and made my way back to the desk, sitting at the high-backed office chair they’d found for me and un-muting the monitor on the tablet I’d propped up on the desk.
Black Is Back (Quentin Black Mystery #4) Page 23
