Kiss Me When the Sun Goes Down (45 page)

“You still live at the address on your driver’s license?”

“Yep, and you know where I work, so I’d say you stand a pretty good chance of finding me if you want me.”

The color rose on the side of his neck again, and I wondered if I’d said something to embarrass him, but I didn’t know him well enough to guess what it was.  “Thank you for your time, Miss Renault.”

“Mercy,” I reminded him.

“Miss Mercy,” he amended, and we both made a face at the same time at how it sounded, sharing a laugh at each other’s expressions.  “Mercy then,” he allowed with a nod. 

“Stop by anytime,” I couldn’t help but add.  There were worse ways to spend my time than talking with a friendly cop with a great smile. 

* * *

I
found out first hand what those worse ways to spend my time were, as an ocular specialist came in to run the tests on my eyes.  Dr. Estefan was a compact man who ended every single sentence with
hokay?
  As in
Now I would like you to close your right eye and repeat the same series from top to bottom, hokay?
  Stifling a smile, I did as I was told, and for the life of me couldn’t tell if I passed or failed the tests based on his reactions.

But soon enough he told me to
have a nice day
,
hokay?
and took his leave.  His color had been a mixture of greens and blues, though I hadn’t told him that.  I decided I should keep the colors to myself.  After all, it wasn’t hurting anything, and my vision was still crisp and accurate as far as I could tell. 

Not two seconds after he’d gone, my door opened again and I steeled myself for the next round of being poked and prodded, but to my relief my brother slouched in instead. 

“Matty!” I squealed, never so glad to see him in my life.  My younger brother could be counted on to fetch and carry all the things the nurses were too busy for, and maybe even sneak in a bit of contraband.  Only two years younger than me, we were close growing up, though I saw less of him in later years unless he was broke and needed a place to crash.  His aura was a pale yellow with the faintest bit of blue around the edges. 

“Hey, Merce,” he grinned, and I could see the relief etched plainly on his face.  Just what had they told him to expect? 
Damn those doctors.

“I’m so glad to see you!  Did you come by before while I was still out?”

Matt nodded, dragging a chair up to the side of my bed.  “Yeah, but all they would let me do is look at you through the glass for a while, so I went on home.”  There was a touch of guilt in his voice at that, as if I’d be mad at him for leaving me there alone.

Instead, I nodded my approval, waving away his concern.  “Did you call Mom?”  I knew my expression matched his own, the vague distaste in what that conversation must have been like.  Now don’t get me wrong, I
love
my mother, I just don’t like dealing with her a whole hell of a lot.  Trust me, if you met her you’d get that a little goes a long way where she’s concerned. 

“Yeah, she wanted to fly out here, and shit, I almost told her to do it.  They made it sound like you were gonna kick at any moment.  But in the end I talked her into waiting a little longer.  I guess you got better in the nick of time, huh?”  He gave me that lopsided grin that always made me think of him as a skinny boy, gap-toothed with a bowl haircut, begging me to come and play outside with him. 

“She knows I’m getting better though?”  That was a conversation I didn’t look forward to either.  I was sure to get an earful on the dangers of city living and why I should be working at a library.  Or a nunnery.  No guff, she really suggested that to me once. 

“No worries, I bought you another day at least,” he drawled, head lolling back as he lounged in the chair more comfortably.  Matt never sat, he sprawled; he never stood, he slouched.  He had the worst posture I’d ever seen.

“Thanks.”  I gave him a heartfelt smile.  “Hey Matty, can you find me a mirror?”  Suddenly I remembered I wanted to check my eyes among other things. 

“Why, you got a date later?” he smirked, long dark bangs falling into his eyes.  I gave him a look that spoke volumes and he relented, patting his pockets and giving the room a cursory look.  “I don’t really see...  Where am I supposed to find a mirror in a hospital room?  This isn’t a day spa.”

“Look around for something reflective, made out of metal,” I prompted.  How hard could it be?  It proved to be harder than I’d thought it would be, but after checking a few cupboards, he returned with a bedpan in hand, beaming proudly. 

“A bed pan?”  My brow rose skeptically, but I lowered it almost immediately, catching his crestfallen expression.  “Thank you, that should work perfectly,” I amended, holding my hands out for the thing. 

It was shiny enough to give me a somewhat distorted representation of my face, as long as I didn’t mind being compared to Jabba the Hutt.  Staring back at me were brilliant, blue eyes instead of my usual brown ones; striking against my dark hair and pale complexion.  “Huh.”  My breath came out a little funny as I stared, turning the bedpan one way and then the other. 

“What?”

“My eyes are blue.  I mean really, really blue.  Didn’t you notice?”  I lowered the bedpan and looked at him, widening my eyes slightly.

“Sure I did, I figured you got colored contacts or something.  Nobody’s eyes are that blue naturally, and especially not yours.  Yours are even darker than mine.”  A careless shrug was given, clearly this wasn’t a big issue for him.

“No, my eyes are
actually
blue now, ever since I woke up.  That’s kind of weird, right?”

Matty stared closer, leaning forward to study them.  “That
is
weird.  I’ve never heard of that before, did the doctors say why it happened?” he murmured, and I started to feel like a bug on a stick, on display.

“No, they’re clueless.  Just like they can’t figure out why I took a turn for the better.”

“Yesterday they asked me if you’d made your wishes known for last rites and how you wanted to be buried and stuff.”  He slouched back again, looking uncomfortable.

“Jesus... I’m sorry, Matty, that must’ve been rough.”  I would have patted his arm but I couldn’t reach him. 

“It’s okay, I’m just glad you’re doing better.” 

“And I’m just glad you’re here... so I can kick your ass at cards,” I grinned back. 

“I knew you’d say that.”  Matt produced a deck of cards from his back pocket, his smile stretching wider.  “I hope you’re ready for a whuppin’.  I’m gonna own your car by the time you get out of this place.” 

“Bring it on, squirt, I’m gonna own
you
by the time I walk out of here.”  My eyes glittered with avarice. 

In the end I
did
own him after a fashion, having secured IOU’s for various handy man type chores to be redeemed at my discretion when he ran out of money to bet.  It wasn’t often that I beat him at cards.  Maybe my luck was improving? 

Finally, they chased him out at dinnertime and I was relieved to find my status upgraded to allow me clear liquids.  While beef broth and red jello weren’t exactly gourmet fare, after a diet of ice and water, it was sheer heaven. 

My night was a restless one, filled with interruptions as the staff came to check my vitals, and the arrival of a roommate sometime around two in the morning.  What sleep I was able to snatch was riddled with unsettling dreams, reliving the attack in the alley over and over again.  Seeking solace, my mind built the fantasy that my blue eyed visitor came to see me again, standing silently by my bed as I slept.  For whatever reason, I didn’t find the idea creepy or unusual that a total stranger might come to stand watch over me, in fact, I found it sort of comforting.  I even had the notion he held my hand, and those were the most peaceful hours of sleep I enjoyed. 

I
knew I wasn’t supposed to get out of bed.

No one came right out and said it specifically, but after all, I’d just come out of a major surgery that no one expected me to survive.  A trip to the gift shop was pretty much out of the question. 

Early morning found me bored to tears, with no one to talk to and nothing to do but count the ceiling tiles (there were twenty-six).  My roommate, Beth, snored behind the curtain separating our spaces in the shared room, and I wondered if I could get away with turning the television on low. 

Even beyond the boredom, I was struck by a restless energy, nudging me to get up and give my legs a test drive.  Looking back, I should’ve been aware it wasn’t in any way normal, but at the time, my thoughts were more focused on the logistics of the task at hand. 

What would I do about my IV?  (It was on wheels and could be unplugged) 

Could I easily remove the massaging leg warmer thingies that kept the blood from pooling in my legs?  (They were secured with Velcro, no sweat) 

Where would I go? (The bathroom looked like my best bet, and I was dying to get a look at myself in the mirror and brush my teeth, even if only with a finger) 

Could I even make it to the bathroom and back without an alarm going off, nurse walking in on me, or Beth waking up and ratting me out?  (Only one way to find out...)

Moving slow, both for stealth’s sake and to make sure my body could actually handle the movement, I inched myself up to a sitting position, courtesy of the magic bed. 
So far, so good...
 

The leg massagers came off easily enough, and my body didn’t seem to mind the bending motion it took to get them off.  In fact, there was no pain in my abdomen at all from shifting position. The only unusual sensation I had was my stitches itched like crazy, and I hoped it was a good sign.  Didn’t wounds start to itch when they healed? 

Carefully, I swung my legs down to the floor, sitting up on the edge of the bed.  No dizziness, and no nausea – I was good to go.  My legs bore the weight fine with no sign of pain, only a faint stiffness in my limbs from lying too long in one place.  The IV monitor unplugged easily enough, and soon I was pushing the unit along the cool linoleum, my eyes diverting between the closed door and the curtain separating my bed from Beth’s, but neither showed signs of stirring. 

Once inside the bathroom, I breathed easier, resting the door shut carefully before turning to stare at myself in the mirror.  There I was, rocking the grunge look with my unwashed hair and shiny face.  “Holy crap...”  My eyes were blue alright, a vibrant, crystalline blue that reminded me of my mysterious stranger, as I was starting to think of him.  Turning my head first one way and then the other, I observed the effect and had to admit, it was striking. 

Apart from the fact that everyone who knew me would assume that I’d gotten colored contacts, I decided I could definitely get used to the look.  I almost expected to see a halo of color around myself in the mirror, but there was no sign of one.  Except for the blue eyes I looked just as I always had, or did I?  There was something else off, something subtle I couldn’t quite put my finger on. 

Deciding it didn’t matter, I opted to take advantage of the trip to the bathroom in case I got yelled at for it and didn’t get the opportunity again any time soon.  Pretty sure I’d be busted if I tried to take a shower, I settled for washing my face and stealing some of Beth’s toothpaste to freshen up my mouth.  It was awkward with the IV in my arm, but I managed well enough. 

Feeling brave (or was it foolish?), I decided to lift the bandage and see what the incision across my abdomen looked like.  The itching was driving me crazy, and I reasoned that if it was all red and angry, I should probably tell someone about it.  Peeling back the tape little by little, I tried to peek inside, but the angle was awkward until I’d managed to pull at least half of it off and could see it in the mirror. 

There was a faint line there, the skin slightly pink and raised where the scar should’ve been, the stitches standing out dark and angry against my pale flesh.  What the hell was going on?  Where was the big nasty scar?  There was no way I could’ve healed that quickly from the surgery a few days ago, and as I passed my fingers lightly over the line, there was no pain or tenderness. 

Looking up, I met my shocked gaze in the mirror, just standing there with my bandage half on and half off.  If Dr. Michaelson was surprised I survived the infection, she was going to freak out when she saw how quickly my body healed itself through no effort on her part. 

Just like that, it came to me. 

I had to get the heck out of Dodge before they started asking questions I didn’t know the answers to.  There was no way I would sit around in the hospital while they poked and prodded me, running test after test.  I felt fine, better than fine, I felt strong.  No sense of fatigue from my trip to the bathroom.  In fact, it felt good to be up and around, working the kinks out of my muscles.  I started back to the bed, trying to work my way through the logistics of sneaking out of the busy hospital.

Only, there was no way I’d be able to walk out by myself.  I needed to call in the reinforcements.  That meant either Matty or maybe Daphne, my best friend.  As a last resort, I reasoned I could call Alice or Walter from work.  Even Parker, my boss, who owned and ran Eden, but I was less comfortable involving anyone from work. 

Halfway between the bathroom and the bed, the door swung open.  I froze, a guilty expression on my face like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, until I realized who it was.  “Daphne!” I beamed, lowering my voice instantly to a conspiratorial hush.  “I’m so glad to see you, you’ve gotta get me out of here!” 

Daphne Spencer and I had been best friends ever since my family moved to Seattle when I was in the third grade.  Our friendship had survived many things over the years, and I knew she was the one person I could count on, besides my brother, to be there for me when the chips were down.  She was my opposite as far as coloring went, with long blonde hair that naturally fell in perfect ringlets I’d kill for.  Her skin was habitually tanned, despite the usually overcast Seattle weather, and her eyes a light blue that sparkled with good humor.  As I saw her then, the aura surrounding her body was a vibrant orange with a tinge of pink at the center.