Daniel gave me a run-down on the mental health unit’s rules and visiting hours; he’d been in to visit his former colleague a couple of times since Ewan had been admitted. I didn’t have the heart to tell Daniel that Ewan had been at least indirectly responsible for his recent possession. Instead, I thanked him for the advice, deflecting his questions about why I wanted to see the other nurse. He knew we weren’t exactly on the best of terms.
The next day, after an early lunch, Jen drove me in to the hospital. Ostensibly, she’d offered so I wouldn’t have to catch the bus, but I knew she was also concerned at the idea of me going alone. She worked her jaw as we approached the unit, and I wondered if I should have made some excuse and refused her offer. Maybe waited until the weekend, when Brad could come with me? We could have gone before Olivia’s party. Unlike Daniel, Jen was very well aware that Ewan had been behind her blight infestation and, in her case, there hadn’t been any “indirectly” about it. He’d infected her food when they went on a date. I still felt guilty for setting them up.
The mental health unit was separate from the main hospital. “At least it’s close to the carpark,” I said, smoothing the front of my shirt down and wondering whether I should have dressed more conservatively as we approached the low, sprawling façade of the structure. It had a modern vibe; rectangles of various sizes in muted colours covered the outside wall.
“It looks like an architect barfed all over some kid’s building blocks.” Jen pursed her lips, looking back the way we’d come. “Though the multistorey carpark is so ugly it makes this place look good.”
I laughed a little nervously as we entered the building and reported to reception. The nurse on duty didn’t bat an eyelid at my dark jeans, nose piercing, band T shirt or heavy boots. She did notice the way we gawked at the high ceilings and the light-filled space; the interior was much nicer than the exterior. “Is this your first time visiting?” she said.
We nodded.
“And who are you here to visit?”
“Ewan Wright. He’s in the low-dependency wing.”
“Is he expecting you?”
I shook my head, and she pointed to a couple of low, uncomfortable-looking couches. “Please take a seat while I see whether Mr Wright is accepting visitors today.”
We did as instructed. “Accepting visitors? Fancy,” I muttered to Jen as we sank onto the low couch. Daniel had mentioned that the other nurse may not agree to see us, but I was hoping Ewan’s curiosity would overcome his reluctance. Or, failing that, maybe his hatred of me would be enough to make him want to see me. I hoped the staff had quick reflexes in the event that he attempted to avenge Ikelos.
“It makes sense,” Jen said, pulling out her phone. “They are trying to create a safe space here. If patients can’t control who drops in, that wouldn’t be very safe.”
“Yeah.” I crossed one leg over the other knee and tapped the side of my boot. Jen began to play a game with the sound off. I didn’t own a smart phone, but I didn’t think a game would be able to distract me from my nerves anyway.
After a long enough period of time that I worried Ewan had refused to see us, a smiling nurse came over and gestured for us to follow her. She led us into a big, open space with huge windows overlooking a sunny courtyard. The walls were white with green and yellow accents that reminded me of dandelions. Other people moved around: nurses in their uniforms and visitors or patients dressed in street clothes. Ewan waited for us in the centre of the space, sitting at a table with two single-seat couches on each side. The chairs were low enough that his long frame looked gangly, his knees bent and his elbows resting awkwardly on the arms of his seat. He was dressed in baggy jeans and a striped shirt. A jumper was draped across the couch beside him as if he was claiming the space for a friend.
Taking the hint that he didn’t want either of us to get too close, Jen and I sat on the other side of the table. “Hi,” I said, feeling awkward as I sank into the squishy chair.
“Hello, Melaina.” He blinked a couple of times, his gaze sliding across to my friend. “Jenny.”
Jen’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t reply.
Ewan frowned; he’d probably hoped for a bigger reaction. “How are you feeling? Sleeping well?” he asked, running a hand over his hair, which had been cut short. The blond streak that had made him look like a skunk had been trimmed away so that his hair was now a solid, dark brown. The colour suited him better, as much as I hated to admit it.
“Just fine, thanks.” Jen took off her glasses and cleaned them on the hem of her shirt. Since I’d started providing Netflix for her brain, as she’d put it, the statement was even true. She hadn’t had a nightmare about being possessed in a couple of weeks. “No thanks to you,” she added, not meeting his gaze, and Ewan smiled. I’d noted in the past that he was cute when he smiled, but now the expression tightened something in my chest—and not in a good way. Maybe it was the tic that jumped beside his eye, or the way the smile was perilously close to being a smirk.
“I was bestowing an honour on you,” he said. “I chose you to be the host for something greater. Something holy. I can’t pay you a greater compliment than that.”
“Ugh.” Jen slid her glasses back on with such force that I winced. “Because the only purpose of a woman is to breed, right?”
“That’s not the only purpose.” He licked his lips as he ran his gaze down her body. She stiffened in her seat and he grinned, meeting her gaze again. “Besides, I didn’t just choose women. I’m not sexist.”
“And now Ikelos is gone, what are you playing at?” I spoke quickly, before my friend leapt across the low table to punch him in the nose. Nelson would have a field day if that happened.
Ewan blinked again, that tiny muscle beside his eye twitching like a dying spider. “The psychologists here assure me he never existed to start with. They tell me he was a … a product of my psychosis. I’m on little tablets, four times a day. They make me sleepy. Like your mother. How is your mother?”
“Not that sleepy anymore,” I snapped. A passing nurse glanced over, and I lowered my voice. “You didn’t answer my question, though. Are you trying to get me in trouble with the police?”
“I didn’t answer? Imagine that,” he said. I opened my mouth to object, and he waved me off. “What am I trying to do? Why, Melaina, I’m trying to help that nice police officer understand what happened that night. He’s very concerned. He also has the kind of personality that can’t stand a riddle. And now I appreciate that my behaviour was wrong, I want to try and make amends to society.” He placed a hand over his heart, his expression so nauseatingly earnest that I wanted to punch him in the nose.
“Make amends to society, my arse,” I said. Jen put her hand on my arm, but I barely noticed. “You’re trying to punish me for burning your master in a river of lava.”
The rage that flashed across his face was the first genuine expression I’d seen from him since we’d arrived. It flared in his eyes and bared his teeth in a silent snarl. The couch seat squeaked a protest as his fingers dug into the arms. The emotion was so strong I slid back in my chair … but, before I could brace for an attack, he took a deep breath and the fury melted away, leaving only faint amusement in its place. All he said was, “The master that never existed.”
Do you really believe that? Ikelos had most definitely existed. He’d forced my mother into a coma so he could take over her mind. He’d tortured my father for information and had bound Leander with barbed vines that had cut his wings to shreds. I stared at Ewan like I could bore into his brain with my gaze alone, determine whether he was telling the truth. He stared back, the hint of a sneer curling his top lip to reveal a glimpse of faintly stained teeth.
When the silence had stretched on for a couple of minutes, I decided to change tack. “How have you been sleeping, Ewan? Any bad dreams?”
“The usual.” His gaze slid away from my face to the arm of the chair, where his fingers still pressed into the fabric. His eyes widened with surprise, as if he’d just noticed his reaction, and he loosened his grip. “I’m not possessed, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“How do you know you’re not?”
“Because there’s no such thing as blights,” Ewan replied brightly. He twitched with a spasm. A side-effect of the medication? But when he glanced back up at me, a new, steely determination glittered in his eyes. Something else had changed in his expression, too, though I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. “If you come any closer to me, Melaina Armstrong, I will defend myself.” His voice was low, almost a growl, and his hands curled into fists. “Even if it means they increase my medication until I’m a drooling mess and remove my privileges. I won’t have you putting me to sleep again. I won’t have you invading my mind.”
Jen stood, grabbing my arm and dragging me to my feet. She hooked her arm through mine, either to restrain me or to support herself. Maybe both. “Funny how you don’t want your own mind invaded, but you were happy enough for mine to be.”
“Yes.” Ewan regarded her with a cold expression. “Funny.”
It wasn’t until we were leaving the unit, emerging into warm spring air that did little to ease the chill inside me, that I realised what it was in Ewan’s expression that had changed.
The tic beside his eye had disappeared.