Fragmentary

by LeAnn Mason

  “Holden, where is Raven's hal-”

  Holden ducked under Raven's neck and made his way toward me once again. Fearing a repeat of embarrassment, I backed away quickly, trying to stay out of his grasp. I'd not make that mistake again today. Not here at least.

  Holden just chuckled as he entered and went about grabbing the rest of Raven's gear, his grey shirt molding to his torso as his arms and back lifted the heavier equipment. As he took it all, he threw a, “Better get a move-on. We're burning daylight,” at me and disappeared out the door.

  My face hurt from the smile plastered there for the past hour. Today, Holden had taken our lesson out of the arena and onto the open trails which ran behind the populated area of Minefield, out toward the fields. This was Primal territory, just like everything involving the horses. The terrain didn’t vary much, switching primarily between rocky dirt and spotty grass. Eventually, crop fields dominated the scenery. There wasn’t any water to cross or trees to maneuver under, so according to Holden, this was easy. Being out in the fields, especially when we reached the corn, reminded me of our last foray this way, and a bit of a cloud settled over my good mood. It was then that I asked to head back.

  The lessons of the day were different because without fences and the familiar scenery, the horses were prone to random acts of stupidity. Raven was a champ like usual, totally unfazed if not a little sluggish. Holden’s mare, Jamie, was a different story. She was quite full of herself, prancing about like she was in a tap dancing recital. If Holden didn’t let her run like she wanted, she would toss her head repeatedly, going so far as to rear onto her hind legs a bit in her tantrum. No, thank you!

  I was super glad that was not my mount. I don’t know how Holden kept his cool and reined her in. It was… intimidating. Jamie was a perfect example of why Sages would never choose to master horseback. They tended to not be fans of living things that couldn’t be absolutely predicted or controlled. Horses were definitely in the “unpredictable” column. The whole scene was humbling. They were such big, powerful animals. There was no “controlling” them unless they ultimately allowed it.

  I wasn’t quite ready for Jamie’s level of unpredictability just yet. Maybe one day.

  I did learn a little quirk of Raven’s. Apparently, my stalwart steed did not like flies. Like… hated them. If one buzzed around his head, he shook it wildly. Buzzing about his legs? He’d stomp them into oblivion, not quite mimicking the feverish jig Jamie employed but enough to unsettle me the first couple of times.

  My daydream of galloping, wind in my hair with Holden at my back, was a little ways in the future. We were still working on cantering in the arena, so there was no way Holden would go for a full out run without barriers. I listened only because this was technically training, and I wanted it to continue. I didn’t know how much longer before he’d feel comfortable with me riding without supervision, but I hoped it would be soon. Probably not.

  We dismounted on the dirt walkway just outside the barn doors. Sweat dripped between my shoulder blades and gathered between my breasts. And as my feet hit the dirt, I was sure some of the cloud would find its way to my moist skin. I really need a shower.

  Holden’s shirt was wet enough to qualify for a wet t-shirt contest, not that I was complaining. At all. I needed to stop staring before we had a repeat of our earlier embarrassing moment, but all I could think about was ripping the shirt from his back and licking up the trails of moisture I knew were snaking down his body from collarbone to abs… and lower.

  Nat, you better stop staring at me like that. We still need to work on reading people, have a favorite destination?

  His words registered and pulled a groan from me. “I thought I’d avoided that bit of torture, no dice?” A tug on my arm reminded me that it wasn’t just me I had to worry about; I still had Raven, and Holden had Jamie. Another tug and I broke eye contact with Holden, turning to give my beast a loving smack on his neck, the sound reverberating like an echo around the space.

  Just as I was turning to begin walking back into the barn so we could get the saddle off and rinse the sweat from both our bodies, I was stopped cold with a shattering pain originating in my foot. A screeching cry tore from my throat before I could get a handle on it. I couldn’t stuff it down far enough for it not to escape.

  I fell into Raven’s side, hoping my weight would cause him to shift enough that his twelve hundred pounds would be removed from the appendage that allowed me to be bipedal. I liked walking upright and wanted to keep it that way. “Holy moth— Raven… MOVE!”

  The dreaded fly was back. Raven was so worried about getting rid of the damn thing by any means necessary that he couldn’t be persuaded to move off his one front leg that was not stomping angrily. I’d been stepped on before. It hurts, but it was brief, the horse readily moving away. This was different. His full weight was on the leg pinning my toes to the dirt. The pain was immense, a fire radiating further up my leg the longer I was unable to remove the pressure. I could feel the tiny bones in my foot crack and rub, sending it ablaze, and my eyes really wanted to let loose with the tears, but I clamped down on the urge.

  I couldn’t let on how bad this was.

  CHAPTER 4

  FINALLY RAVEN LIFTED HIS leg and took a step away from me, my body nearly falling from the loss of mass I’d been pushing against.

  Nat! Are you okay? How bad is it? Holden’s strong arms wrapped gently around my shoulders, turning me to face him. Blazing silver eyes looked me over, zeroing in on my foot as I gimped a step to regain my balance. There was a pain like I’d not felt before, throbbing in time with my heartbeat, emanating from my damaged foot, though you’d never know it to look at it. My boots were deceptively unscathed.

  A hiccupping sob escaped as the throbbing in my foot intensified, the sudden feeling of restriction within my boot indicating that it was definitely damaged.

  Holden knelt in front of me, showing no signs that the gravel bothered him in the slightest. Where were the horses? When I asked, Holden made a vague comment about someone else grabbing them. All thoughts of where the animals were escaped me as Holden lifted my foot and set it on his bent knee.

  I blinked and bit back a curse as he gingerly set about removing my right boot. It wasn’t easy as it was definitely swelling, the pounding ache turning to a biting pain as the toes pulled free. The sock was next. Was it weird that I was worried about Holden focusing on my feet? I mean that’s not the most attractive body part I had to offer him. I felt the blush creep up my neck, heat igniting the tops of my ears. Feet were about the most unattractive part of me. I mean with training, I was on them all day, every day. Ugh. Just great.

  All my petty thoughts blanked out as soon as the white sock cleared the top of my foot. It was the color of a ripe plum, purple with tinges of red, and swelling rapidly.

  Holden’s thoughts were a mess of worry. He was on the same track as I; there was definitely something broken – most likely many somethings with how small bones in the foot were. We both had the same thought; I needed to get to my dad.

  “Holden, my phone is in the truck.”

  He hurried off to retrieve my S.O.S. device, and I focused on taking deep cleansing breaths. Damn, this hurts! Before I had too much time to dwell on his absence, Holden returned with phone in hand and Dad’s number pulled up. He hadn’t pressed the button yet, which I appreciated since I needed a moment to breathe through the pain.

  I took another deep breath as I connected the call and waited anxiously as the tone emanated from the small device’s speaker. I hissed a distressed breath as I was lifted from the ground, Holden taking it upon himself to get this party moving toward the hospital sooner rather than later. Probably a good call.

  But I couldn’t just go to any doctor. I didn’t know how soon my healing would kick in or to what degree. I couldn’t afford to have a miraculous recovery in the middle of diagnostics. No one was supposed to know about me. Holden. Shit. I had no idea how I was going to pull this off witho
ut him knowing. I’d insist I was fine and drive myself to the hospital if I could, but my mangled foot was the right one. Geez, it was like an overfilled water balloon, filled with blood and, most likely, bone fragments. There’s no way Raven’s big ass didn’t grind a few to dust. Could I re-form crushed bones? I guess we were about to find out.

  After the third call to my father, he finally picked up. “Nat, what's wrong?” Dad asked quickly. He knew me well, knew that if I'd called him three times within minutes, there was a reason.

  I winced as the truck bounced over a rough spot in the road, jostling my foot, which was propped on the bench seat between Holden and me in order to keep it elevated. “Dad. There's been an accident, and I need to see you.”

  “I've just left a patient. I'll meet you down on the floor. I'm not scheduled for surgery today.”

  “You may very well be,” I bit out as fire lanced up my leg when we dipped into another pothole.

  “How far out are you?”

  Looking around I estimated, “Five minutes.”

  “Good, I'll be waiting.” The call disconnected, and I stared blankly at the dark screen. I can't believe this happened. It was all going to come out now; there would be no way to hide my rapid healing.

  I thunked my head against the window at my back as I worried my lip. They would know. An injury this severe didn't just disappear, even for Primals. Rolph was a perfect example. He’d been stuck in those casts for weeks and then had to endure rehab to build up his strength again, was still working at it.

  The night we’d closed our first case as a team, a couple months back, Holden asked for more details on my healing. The conversation was clear as if it had been yesterday. We'd been at the BBQ as the squad bonded after capturing the illusionist. We’d been both elated at capturing the culprit and saddened at the loss of two fellow enforcers in the process.

  Doesn't have to be now but, I want you to tell me about how you healed, he’d told me. His silver blue eyes had speared me, told me that it was all right; that he’d listen.

  But I’d been terrified, all of my fears surfacing, being realized. I had been found out. People would hate me even more than they did already. I would once again be an outsider; only who knew what would come of it this time?

  All I could visualize was being strapped to a stainless steel table, being poked and prodded. Who knew to what extent the curiosity, no, the demand for answers would carry the testing? How often did the pursuit of knowledge, come at the expense of some? Did the ends justify the means? I didn’t want to be a guinea pig.

  I’d put Holden off since that first inquiry, making excuses; hedging. We each knew the other had things they weren’t telling, so neither pushed too hard for fear the other would ask for the same in return. I broke from my remembered panic and renewed anxiety back to the present. My worrying had done one thing for me; it had passed the time. Holden slowed and swung the old truck into a reserved spot nearest the emergency entrance to Minefield’s hospital. He had the engine off and was out of the vehicle before I'd registered that we'd stopped.

  A moment later, the door at my back released, and I tensed, knowing I was going to come tumbling out backwards. I didn't though because Holden didn't just swing the door open like I expected he would. After I caught myself, he finished opening and reached in for me, putting one arm around my back and the other under my knees.

  Luckily, the pain was at a dull throb about now, the appendage almost numb as Holden beelined it for the doors. Not sure that's a good thing…

  Dad was there waiting, and the moment he saw us, he turned and called for an elevator. No one stopped us or looked concerned, so I assumed Dad had filled in the admittance peeps; and I hadn't seen anyone in the waiting room. I guess it was slow today, which was good for us.

  The elevator dinged its arrival, and we all filtered into the steel box, ready to ascend to the diagnostics area of the hospital without hindrance.

  “We need to get an x-ray first and foremost,” Dad was saying as he led us through the sterile halls of the hospital, this section having a fair amount of activity. Apparently there were patients, just none in the waiting area.

  Why am I getting the feeling there's more going on here than either of you are telling me? Why does this seem… secret?

  I avoided Holden's stare and his question, continuing to look after my father as we wound our way to the X-ray machines.

  “Here, set her up here,” Dad directed Holden as he turned off the light and proceeded to root through drawers, finally coming away with a black film, which he inserted into a tray that pulled out from beneath the table I was laid out on. “We have a machine that works in tandem with this table. We need to see how bad this is. What happened?”

  The last he directed at Holden, who gave a helpless look and mentally sputtered the events of the day, his hands gesturing wildly with signs.

  “Raven stepped on me.” I said, wrapping my hand around Holden's fluttering one, bringing it to my lap.

  “Just a step doesn't usually cause this kind of damage,” Dad mused as he visually inspected my disfigured foot before turning away to grab the large metal arm hanging from the ceiling and aim it over the top of the appendage.

  Reaching out to hooks on the wall which held heavy looking aprons, Dad snagged one and brought it to wrap around my body. It was heavy and covered me from my neck to my knees.

  “C'mon, son. Come out here with me while we take the pictures.” Dad patted Holden on the shoulder in encouragement to follow him.

  I knew Holden would be reticent, so I gave the best reassuring smile I could muster and tipped my chin to the doorway. He took the hint and walked out of the room for the time it took to take the X-ray images of my foot. Dad had to come in and reposition the awkward machine two more times so they could see from multiple angles.

  Then we had to wait for the films to develop and be readable, during which time, Dad asked again what had happened.

  “Leave it to you, baby girl, to have the horse not just step on your foot.” He brought his hand up perpendicular to his mouth in a “let me tell you a secret” gesture. “She's got crap luck,” he whispered to Holden who nodded readily. Traitor. I guess Holden's panic level had subsided as he seemed at ease in the chair next to my table, listening to my father tell stories of my failures, which he’d started in on after processing the x-ray images. Holden even passed a couple of written notes to make it an interactive storytelling event while I lay across the table with my arms crossed over my face to hide my embarrassment.

  “All right, here we go.” Dad flipped on the light box attached to the wall to my left and pushed the first screen up so that it was pinned against the illumination. The first thing I noticed was the size and shape of the lump around all the many bright white bones. My foot was still substantially, swollen but it seemed to be improving with the constant elevation.

  Dad pinched his fingers up under his glasses to rub at his eyes briefly before giving us the rundown. “Well, you definitely have fractures,” he sighed. “Both a metatarsal break here—” He pointed to a jagged black line about halfway down the long bone on the top of the x-ray of my foot, closest to my big toe. “And the toe as well.”

  Sure enough, another black line that should not be was bisecting the long bone of my big toe as well.

  Dad shot me a worried glance, darting his eyes to Holden in a “What should I say?” look. I was at a loss. I mean he’d know if something was up and my downtime was minimal. Especially if he’d ever broken a toe before.

  I figured. It bruised too quickly for there not to have been a break. I’m so sorry, Nat. I know how bad that hurts. I broke my foot on Dane a while back. Those were some long weeks.

  Well, that answered that. He would know exactly how long “normal recovery time” Would be. Shit. I guess the cat was out of the bag. I cleared my throat and prepared to see just what kind of reaction we would get. “Uh, so how long is recovery time? I need to be able to do my job still.”


  Dad looked between Holden and me again, a silent question brimming in his eyes. “Usually recovery for fractures such as these where the bones still line up—” he pointed to the breaks in the image to demonstrate. “With a cast or walking boot and crutches… several weeks.”

  “How long for me?”

  Holden narrowed his eyes at my question, my phrasing having not escaped his notice. His mind was winding up now, getting excited to get answers and feeling bad for having that reaction. I reached over and squeezed his hand. I understood. We all, every one of us, had burning questions that we wanted answers to. To feel we better understood each other. I’d have to wait for mine, but it seemed that Holden would get some right now. Deep breaths.

  After a lengthy hesitation, Dad decided to just let ‘er rip. “For you, probably a few days before you’re good as new.”

  We both ignored Holden’s sharp intake of breath at the news. I nodded as my father continued with his recommended course of action. “We’ll treat it like a severe sprain. Tell the others that you need to stay off of it for a few days. We’ll get you crutches and have it wrapped. But you will definitely need to take recovery seriously until we know for sure you’re healed.”

  Holden was suspiciously quiet throughout the exchange, and the silence the room had fallen into seemed deafening.

  A break that would normally take weeks to mend… days?

  I nodded.

  Holden's brow furrowed as he assimilated the fact that I had a second gift. A Primal gift. How—Why didn't you tell me?

  “I'm going to step out… go grab some wrap and… crutches,” my father mumbled as he pushed up his glasses and not-so-stealthily retreated from the X-ray room we still occupied. I looked to the open doorway, at a loss. I couldn't believe he'd just left after informing someone of my speedy mending. This was what he'd been afraid of since learning of my healing… and he just walked away?

  Why didn't you tell me?