Harsh Gods (21 page)

“It’s a hospital, Lil. We’re not breaking into Fort Knox. Why do you have to act like everything’s a spy movie?” I hissed. “And why the hell didn’t you tell me these things before we got inside?”

“I like to see how quick you are on your feet,” she answered. “As it turns out, not quick enough.” She stepped close to elbow me, then followed through with the motion as if her sole intention had been to reach toward the glowing bank of buttons. She pressed one with the tip of the pen. “Just do like I ask for once. You’re armed. I’m armed. It’s after visiting hours. I’d like to get in and out quickly, rather than have to tangle with security.”

I huffed my irritation and shoved my fists into the pockets of my jacket.

“Fine. Whatever. I hate these places anyway.”

“So do I,” she answered hollowly. That was unexpected. I shifted in the elevator, tightening the cowl across my wings.

“It can’t be all the death,” I ventured. “I’ve seen you slice a man’s throat down to the bone, and smile about it.”

“He wasn’t a man,” she shot back. With an uncharacteristically prim gesture, she adjusted the glasses on her nose. “And death’s one thing. Suffering—needless suffering—is something else entirely.”

We fell silent as the elevator paused at the next floor. The doors slid open to the sound of a muted chime. No one waited outside. Lil stabbed impatiently at the “Close Doors” button.

“Torture,” I said, once the elevator started moving again. “You’re no stranger to torture.”

“The suffering here is pointless,” she responded tightly. “Why buy a few extra days if they’re spent attached to machines in a chemical delirium? Sometimes death’s a kindness. The world’s forgotten that truth.”

Letting my head drop back against the shiny wall of the elevator, I grunted a non-answer. My reflection stared back ghost-like from the mirrored ceiling. Lines of weariness traced the pale skin around my eyes—evidence of my recent exertions at the art museum.

At least I’d cleared all the blood from around my nose.

Soul-hunger gnawed deep under my ribs, and I knew I’d have to deal with it soon—or else I’d be no use to Halley or anyone else. The hospital was the last place I wanted to take care of it, however. There were plenty of people to draw upon, but I wanted no part of what they carried with them.

Lil was right about the suffering—it was bad enough tasting what bled through my shields.

“You going to argue with me, Zack?” she prodded.

“Nothing to argue.” I sighed. “A hospital is a big fucking Crossing, and this place is packed with over a hundred years’ worth of experiences families wish they could forget.” Tightening my cowl, I fought to marshal my shredded shields. Just talking about it caused the aura of the place to claw at the edges of my awareness. “For every loss, there’s a dozen more successes. I know that. They’re trying to save people. But all I pick up on are the failures.”

Lil looked like she was going to respond—and for once, with something supportive—but the elevator chime dinged and the doors opened. A cheery sign in cartoon colors greeted us. Rainbow Babies and Children—University Hospital’s answer to a pediatric ward.

“This is our stop,” Lil muttered.

She strode from the elevator. In an instant she was a rushed and slightly scattered attending nurse. The transformation was subtle and settled over her like a deftly tailored coat. I stared long enough that the elevator started to close on me.

Catching the doors with an elbow, I realized suddenly why she’d been using the pen. It wasn’t just an effort not to leave fingerprints. She didn’t dare touch anything with her bare hands—not in such a psychically-charged location.

Lil headed right for the nurses’ station, and I followed several steps behind, stopping to dither over some signs, taking the opportunity to slap a few more layers on my mental protection as I did so. The children’s ward roiled with a suffocating miasma of brittle hopes and protracted misery. It made my teeth itch like I was gnawing aluminum foil.

She approached the nurse seated at the station, hugging the clipboard bashfully to her chest. When she spoke, she softened her voice, pitching it higher until I barely recognized it.

“Does the Davenport girl have any of her family still here?” Lil chirped. She glanced down at her clipboard, amending, “Davis. Sorry. Been a long shift.” She held it up helpfully, showing only the back of it. “I forgot to get them to sign one of the release forms. Just caught it on my way out for the night.”

The nurse at the station—a mocha-skinned woman with peppered hair buzzed close to her scalp—tapped a few commands into her computer. She wore reading glasses on a chain at her neck, and she squinted through these at whatever popped onto the screen. Lil rose to her tiptoes, peering inquisitively over the high counter.

“Looks like she still has a support person here,” the nurse answered. “Not sure he’s authorized to sign, though. You’ll have to check.”

Lil offered the woman a smile that managed to look weary, apologetic, and grateful all at once.

“Thank you. She in the same room?”

The other woman pointed vaguely. “Yep. End of the second hall. On the left.” She peered over her glasses in my direction, a frown settling across her brow. “Who’s that guy? He came up with you.”

“Oh,” Lil said with a little giggle. I had never heard her giggle. It was an intensely creepy sound. “Date night. He was walking me to the car when I remembered about the paperwork.”

I angled my back toward them and tried thinking harmless thoughts. My shoulder blades prickled under the older woman’s scrutiny. She made a thoughtful sound in her throat. I tensed, expecting her to call security.

She sniffed. “Nice butt, for a white guy. Kinda skinny, though.”

I felt all the blood rush to my ears.

“He has a motorcycle,” Lil whispered. She held the air of someone sharing an enticingly dirty secret.

“Honey, if he’s riding it in this weather, you kick his white-boy ass to the curb right now.” The nurse laughed richly. “Ain’t nobody got time for that kind of crazy.”

Lil practically tittered with amusement. I struggled not to twitch at the uncanny sound.

“No, but he promised to take me riding once the weather breaks.” After the two had shared another few laughs at my expense, the attending nurse made a shooing motion.

“Go on and get your paperwork signed,” she encouraged. “And take your fella with you. I don’t want to have to keep track of him.”

“OK,” the Lady of Beasts chirped. She turned and gestured to me. I was already halfway to the nurses’ station. We strode together down the hall, Lil taking the lead. I had the distinct impression the nurse behind us was undressing me with her eyes. I walked a little faster.

“Date night?” I inquired archly.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Lil responded.

“I do not have a white-boy ass,” I muttered.

Lil snorted. “Have you looked in a mirror?” She grabbed me and gave a little squeeze.

The nurse at the station tried to be quiet about it, but I could hear her snickering all the way down the hall. The instant we turned the corner at the end, I seized Lil by the wrist. Normally, physical contact blew a person right into my mind, but Lil had defenses to rival the firewall at the Pentagon. The most I got were tattered echoes of the façade she’d been projecting.

“Don’t touch me,” I snarled.

Lil strained against my grip, but I bore down with more-than-human strength. Her storm-gray eyes locked on mine, and we faced off in rigid silence.

“Seriously, Lil,” I said. “That crossed a line.”

Nearby, a door whispered open.

“You two done playing grab-ass in the hallway?”

We both jumped like guilty teenagers. Father Frank stood a few doors away, a tall cup of take-out coffee clasped in one hand. His knuckles were scabbed over from the fight the night before, and the wound above his eyebrow spread stains of grape and green beneath his weathered skin. His eyes were weary but alert, and they shifted watchfully between me and the Lady of Beasts.

Lil yanked her wrist from my slackened grip while I fumbled for a response.

“Uh, padre,” I managed. “This is Lil.”

He nodded curtly in her direction. “We’ve met.”

Awkward volumes unfolded in the sudden tension across her shoulders. The padre never took his eyes off of her—and not because he was admiring the view.

“I’ll wait out in the hall,” she offered. She strode toward the juncture of the corridors where she could covertly watch the nurses’ station. Folding her arms across her chest, she pointedly turned her back to us.

“I hope you got some news for me,” the padre said, still hovering near the door. “I’ve been trying that cellphone of yours all day.”

“Yeah, about that,” I said. “That’s the old number.”

Father Frank grunted. “Explains a few things. When did you change it?”

“Around the time I lost the old phone in the lake,” I replied.

“When you were attacked,” he stated flatly. Pity, anger, and recrimination all converged upon his face.

“Look, I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. How was I supposed to apologize for a betrayal I couldn’t recall?

For a long moment, he just stood in the doorway, intently searching my face. The force of his scrutiny weighed heavy as the wings on my back. I didn’t know what he was looking for, but he found something. His chin dipped in a terse nod and he grunted again.

“You need to come to Holy Rosary as soon as you get the chance.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but his gaze flicked warily to where Lil stood watch at the end of the hall. His lips settled into a disapproving line.

Something more significant than prayer spurred the request. Meaning taunted at the edges of memory. As I met his eyes, I almost had it. Then it was gone.

“Padre—it’ll have to wait. I’ve got a ton of shit to do after I see Halley.” I craned to look past him into the room. “How’s she been?”

Jaw ticking, Father Frank stepped back from the doorway and gestured me in.

“Good, all things considered,” he allowed.

Ducking past him, I draped Lil’s discarded jacket over a chair. With a final, beetling glance toward where she waited, he pulled the door shut till only a crack of light remained.

There were two beds, but only one was occupied. Halley’s room was dark except for the spectral glow of the monitors clustered around her bed. A girl-shaped lump curled in the middle of it, a dark plume of hair trailing from beneath the upper edge of the blanket. Father Frank laid a finger to his lips, cautioning quiet—though from her breathing, I didn’t think Halley was actually sleeping.

Still, I kept my voice down.

“You have some history with Lil?” I asked.

“One of us does,” he answered. The padre took a long, slow sip of coffee, eyeing me across the lid. “She taking advantage of the fact you don’t remember?”

“Knowing her? Yeah, pretty sure.”

He grunted, then traced a blunt nail along the seam of the thick paper cup. “Long as you know the kind of person you’re dealing with.”

I shrugged. “It’s the devil you know, right, padre?”

Any response he thought to offer was interrupted by a sudden rustling of sheets. Halley dragged herself into a sitting position, an IV trailing from one thin arm, her pink and green rosary twined around the other. For a moment, she resisted her natural inclination and stared straight at me.

“Wingy!” she breathed, clearly delighted.

I smiled despite myself.

“Don’t let Lil catch you calling me that,” I said. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Too late.” The voice came from just outside of the door.

The padre shot me a look. “A particularly nosy devil.”

She poked her head into the room. “You’ll appreciate my vigilance if anything tries sneaking up on us.”

Then everything about Lil froze—her stance, her features. She even stopped breathing. Her thundercloud eyes fixed on the slight figure of Halley, crouching on the bed.

“Mother’s Tears,” she swore. She licked lips gone dry with shock.

Halley didn’t return Lil’s stare directly. Instead, the girl’s dark eyes trailed everywhere around the Lady of Beasts. She raised the hand taped to the IV, tracing patterns in the air with one slender finger.

“Fox,” she murmured. “Lion. Weasel. Owl.”

As Halley continued reciting the names of various animals, Lil dropped her voice to a furious hiss.

“You didn’t tell me you were dealing with one of those.” Her warm, bronze skin paled to a sickly shade. She stared at Halley a moment more, then, without further comment, she slipped back out of sight in the hallway. I could feel her shields slam into place with all the crushing finality of blast doors.

“What’s that all about?” Father Frank asked.

Thanks to Terael, I knew—and if Lil could see it at a glance, it was a safe bet others could, too. I didn’t answer right away, though.

“Things are a lot more complicated with Halley than we initially suspected.” Quietly I pulled the door shut until I heard it click. The whites of Father Frank’s eyes stood out in the spectral lights of the monitors.

“She just scared one of the most terrifying women I have ever met,” he breathed. “That can’t be good.” He set aside the coffee and watched me tensely.

“None of the news I have is exactly good,” I said.

He grunted, unsurprised.

Suddenly awkward, I hedged. “After everything at the Davis place last night, I guess you know about my crazy life. Still, a lot of this is going to sound strange.”

A tightening around his eyes deepened the crows’ feet at their edges. It was his only acknowledgement. I swallowed. He wasn’t making this easy. I struggled to order my thoughts, but my brain felt scattered.

“All the writing Halley’s done,” I started. “She hasn’t written on herself, has she? Like the cuts we found on the vagrant you clobbered?”

Father Frank’s look of horror was answer enough.

Halley shifted position on her bed, worrying the beads of her rosary.

“The ladies went away,” she sighed.

That derailed me entirely. I whirled from the priest to the girl.

“What?”

The sharpness in my tone made her cringe. She turned her focus on an apparently random corner of the room, covering her face with her hair. I held my breath, anxious for her answer.