Silence. Darkness. A space filled with nothing—no arms, no body, no legs.
No. I had arms. They were lying on top of a cotton sheet. I had a body. It was cushioned on a mattress. I had legs. They ached from staying in one position too long.
I opened my eyes.
“At last.”
I turned my head toward Nick’s voice. “I— Wh— Where am I?”
“My place.” He helped me to sit up against a pair of thick pillows. Then he sat beside me on the bed, offering a glass of water that waited on the nightstand. “I made Becs bring you here.”
I sipped slowly before I asked, “How are you awake now?”
He laughed. “The sun set three hours ago.”
“I slept the entire day?”
He smoothed the hair off my forehead. “Two days, Ash. It’s Tuesday night.”
“Tuesday…”
It was over then. I’d missed the Empire General inspection. I’d won the battle against the Gnome King, defeated his attempt to take over my hospital for his personal gain, but I’d lost the war. Without accreditation, Empire General would close.
Nick said, “Becs brought this over some time today. It was waiting on the kitchen table when I woke.”
He handed me an envelope. I recognized the logo in the upper left corner, the rough-drawn staff with the enchanted snake that had turned my life upside down just one short month before.
My heart was pounding so hard I thought I might faint. Nick settled beside me, slipping an arm around my shoulder. Of course he could hear my racing pulse. Vampire ears missed nothing.
Ashley McDonnell, MD, Medical Director of Empire General Hospital. I already knew the heading on the letter. Steeling myself, I started to read.
Inspection completed on Midsummer Eve by… I skipped over the name of three imperials who had conducted the Board’s work. In the absence of Dr. McDonnell, inspection was undertaken with the guidance and support of one witch’s familiar, Musker.
Sweet Hecate, that was even worse news than I’d imagined. “I can’t read it,” I said.
Nick eased the letter from my limp fingers. I concentrated on breathing as he started to read.
“The following demerits were noted in the operation of Empire General Hospital.” Nick cleared his throat. “Item: Theft of multiple doses of Vitriol.”
I grimaced.
“Item: Invasion by one or more banshees.”
I closed my teeth on the tip of my tongue.
“Item: Invasion by one or more hellhounds, resulting in the self-discharge of a substantial number of patients and the cancellation of multiple elective procedures.”
I couldn’t pull enough air into my lungs. Nick’s arm tightened around me, and I let myself slump against him. They had it all there, in black and white. Every weakness that had brought down Empire General. Everything I’d allowed the Gnome King to do.
“Item: Multiple complaints of substandard food for all manner of imperial diet.”
As if that mattered now. I closed my eyes in hopeless exasperation.
“Item: Witch’s familiar residing in ground floor bathroom, making shower and sanitary facilities completely inaccessible.”
“Isn’t there anything good in there?” I moaned, making a feeble attempt to grab the letter.
Nick shifted his weight, keeping the page out of my reach. But he obliged me by reading: “The following commendations are noted for the record. Item: Vitriol was properly maintained in an approved storage device with appropriate mechanical, biometric, and magical locks in place.”
Relief left me even weaker than stress. As my shoulders slumped, Nick read on.
“Item: Medical director confirms that new staff has been hired for kitchen, notably one mundane already familiar with imperial practices who has agreed to supervise the hiring of appropriate imperial kitchen staff within the next sixty days.”
“Mundane?” I asked. “What mundane—”
Nick said, “Becs said something about a bakery? Some place called Cake Walk?”
Immediately, I thought of miniature cupcakes in a pasteboard box. I couldn’t imagine what magic my warder had worked, but if the woman in charge of Cake Walk was willing to supervise the Empire General kitchen…
“When did she have time to do that?”
“If I recall,” Nick said dryly. “She had two weeks to fill before Midsummer Eve.” Before I could babble excuses, he brandished the letter again. “Item: All patient rooms were found to be clean and well-stocked, with appropriate care for each imperial race, including solar-free spaces for vampires, moon-visible spaces for shifters, and other reasonable accommodations.”
“All rooms?” I asked. “But who—”
“You’re going to owe Musker a vacation,” Nick said.
“Let me guess. A week in Arizona.”
“I think he’s planning something a little more…exotic. He said something about the pyramids, in Egypt.”
He deserved it. A trip there, and to any other desert he wanted to visit. If I wasn’t mistaken, I had a pouch of moon-minted gold that would finance his travels.
Nick read on: “Item: A complete security plan, including the imminent purchase of closed-circuit televisions, electronic passcards for all staff, and security checkpoints at the entrance to any and all high-risk sections of the hospital. Such security plan to be implemented by contract security consultant Nicholas Raines.”
“What?” I sat up straight in bed.
Nick continued to read. “Therefore, taking into account all of the above—”
“Wait a second! What was that last item?”
He ignored me. “We note that Empire General meets the needs of the Eastern Empire and the various imperials residing within the borders of the Eastern Empire in a manner not otherwise met by any individual or multiple medical facilities.”
“Nick—” I slipped out from under his arm.
“For all the reasons stated herein, blah, blah, blah—”
“Nick—” I shoved away the covers and grabbed for the letter.
“We do hereby attest and declare that Empire General Hospital shall be deemed an accredited imperial facility under the direction of witch Ashley McDonnell—”
“Nick!” I finally succeeded in grabbing the document from him. The motion brought me around to face him, both of us sitting on the edge of the bed.
His eyes glinted in the light from the lamp on the nightstand. His lips were curled into the slightest of smiles. The scruff of his beard was even darker than I’d remembered.
Unable to bear the intensity of his gaze, I let myself look at the letter. The words danced around on the page, formal phrases merging one into the other. The only letters that stood out, bold and clear, were the ones that mattered most: Nicholas Raines.
“H— How did this happen?”
He shrugged. “Becs came up with the plan. She thought you’d approve a temporary contract. The paperwork is sitting on your desk, over at the hospital.”
My warder had done it. She’d taken care of me. Just as my familiar had, handling the inspection while I fought gnomes in the graveyard. My witchy allies had protected me, giving me support when I hadn’t even known to ask for it.
The same way my mother had been there for me. Her knowledge of crystals had saved me. She’d given me the basis for defeating my enemy in the cemetery.
I finally dared to look at Nick. “But you’ll have to give up the Service.”
“I told you in the graveyard. I already gave up the Service. Or they gave up me.”
“And you think this can work? Your reporting to me?”
“I’m pretty good at taking orders. At least from someone I respect.”
A blush kindled my cheeks. For the first time since Nick had joined me on the bed, my lady bits perked up.
“There’s just one thing,” Nick said, increasing the perk factor with the low rumble of his voice. “I need your opinion on a very important medical matter.”
From his tone, I knew better than to worry. “Of course,” I said.
He leaned close, tangling his fingers in my hair. “Here’s the problem,” he whispered against my ear.
My heart started to gallop again. “Mm-hmm?”
His lips traced the line of my jaw, making me lean into him. “I’ve fallen in love with my doctor.”
“That’s quite a problem,” I managed to say.
He found the hollow at the base of my throat. It was a couple of long minutes before he asked, “So, what advice do you have, Doc?”
I moved my hand to the back of his neck. I tilted his head and brushed my lips against his. He was already warmed by the heat of my body. I tested his ability to follow my lead, knowing I’d need that in my Chief of Security. He passed with flying colors, kissing back hard enough that I almost forgot I owed him an answer. When I came up for air, it took me a couple of tries to get out my reply. “How about, ‘Take two spells, and call me in the morning?’”
His laugh met mine, and we started the hard work of measuring out the perfect therapeutic dose.