| |
––––––––
THE NEXT FEW DAYS WERE...strange. On one hand, I was home in my own apartment and the basic things, like electricity and plumbing were still working. So, things almost felt normal. As long as I didn't turn on the local news or try to scroll through social media and remember the internet was down, I could almost pretend like nothing had changed. Except I was home. I didn't have classes to attend and an internship to juggle. I thought about studying, but it seemed kind of pointless if I didn't even have a degree to work on.
I tried calling the college a few times. I got a canned message stating they were temporarily closed due to the disaster and planned to reopen next week. Disaster aside, I couldn't even get in touch with my advisor to confirm whether or not I still even had a place in the nursing program. For all I knew, they'd decided to fail me thanks to that weird run-in with the bum at the hospital.
Who had probably been way more than some random human bum. He had insisted I take a message to White, like I had some kind of connection to the stupid millionaire. I'd thought it laughable at the time. But now, I had to wonder how the...whatever he was...had known I was White's lover in a past life. Not that he'd been called that at the time. My lips curled upward in a bitter smirk. Derek White. What a stupid name for a being with such an evil black heart.
Even though things might seem relatively normal in my little bubble, I knew better. I could feel the tension in the air. And when I'd ventured out to the grocery store yesterday, I'd seen it in people's eyes. Chike and Rhys were protecting me. I knew it, and a weak, scared part of me allowed it. They minimized what was happening outside our ward-protected town, and access to national news was mysteriously cut off, supposedly by some sort of equipment failure. There was chaos out there, and they were trying to shelter my poor human self from it. And I was pretty sure Chike and Rhys weren't the only ones who were in on the game.
I kept getting weird flashes of this kind of...higher intuition. It would come and go when I thought about the current state of things. Of course Chike and Rhys were being overprotective. They didn't understand that I'd once walked among the gods. Mortal strife was nothing new to me. Even if it did cause this current version of me to freak out a little.
I knew I was living in ignorance, but at the same time, I just couldn't bear the idea of learning the truth. I felt detached. And I knew I was acting just like a traumatized patient with PTSD. So, I did what any medical professional in my shoes would do when faced with their own issues—I ignored it. I paced around the apartment. I cleaned. I picked up my pathology book and put it down. I looked for a distraction.
I needed normal. I needed something to do. A purpose. But I was alone. Everyone else was busy. The private school where Rhys worked was still running—which was laughable, considering that the college was closed, but Rhys said all his students were supes. Chike was all tied up with stuff at the “orphanage.” And Gesa and her entire family were constantly out running errands and doing jobs for White—protecting Ontonagon, she said. Though I had to wonder if any of it was real. Maybe this was all some elaborate plan on White's part to keep us all trapped here and willing to jump at his beck and call.
Clearly, I was starting to go a little stir crazy.
Gesa put me on bookstore duty, since no one in her little crew was available to run the place right now. But it was a stupid attempt at distraction, since no one was really in the mood to buy used books at the moment. I'd had one or two customers in two days. The store had made a grand total of a dollar and seventy-five cents profit. Woo-hoo.
The bells above the door chimed and I looked up from where I was slumped over the counter to find Orion Black watching me with an amused look on his perfect face. Lovely. I stood, pulling my t-shirt straight and pushing my messy hair back out of my eyes. “Hello,” I said, trying to tamp down my excitement over having a real live person to talk to. It had been a long morning.
He paced over to the antique wooden counter, and I let my eyes travel over his neatly dressed form. He was as immaculate and subdued as ever. This time, he was wearing dark navy pants and a muted gray vest over his crisp white shirt. I think it was the most color I'd ever seen him wear. He still had his black leather gloves on. And his shirt collar was buttoned right up to the top and slightly popped upward like a shield. I never thought to question it before, but I was clearly grasping at straws to avoid boredom, so it finally occurred to me that the man never showed any skin. He never wore short sleeves. He always had his shirts buttoned up tight, his gloves on. Interesting.
He gave me a soft smile as he stood on the other side of the counter. “How are you today, Miss Troya?”
I scowled at him. “Try that again.”
He tilted his head in confusion for a second, then humor lit up his blue eyes. “I apologize. How are you today, Troy?”
I nodded at his correction. Then I spread my arms wide in answer to his question. “Business is thriving,” I said in a fake cheery voice. Then I dropped the act. “Please kill me now.”
He chuckled. “I would never harm you. However...I might be here to free you. If you wish.”
I laughed. “I find it hard to believe you just popped in on your own to chit-chat. And I know for a fact your employer would never send you here to save me from death by boredom. So, what do you need?”
His smile faded. “Troya, I wish you could see—”
I held up a hand. “Nope. Don't you dare try to defend that asshole. It's bad enough you and I are going to stop being friends the day I figure out how to kill him for what he's done. Let's not ruin it sooner than we have to.”
His blue eyes were full of sadness. “I see.” He took a breath and plastered that polite professional expression on his face again, ever the perfect butler. Or secretary. Or servant. Whatever. “I made my employer aware of your concerns regarding your schooling,” he said softly. “He will sort out any misunderstandings with the school, but since the college is shut down at the moment due to the death of the dean, he has requested that you come to his private clinic, where you can gain more hands-on experience until things return to normal.”
I gaped at him as I tried to digest all that. “Wait. The school is closed because the dean is dead?”
Orion nodded, a frown marring his professional mask. “I'm sorry, I assumed you were aware. She was killed defending the night school students the evening the wards went up.”
I sighed. How much were Chike and Rhys keeping from me in order to keep me calm? “What was she protecting the students from?” I said softly.
Orion gave me a sad look, and I understood something about him in that moment. He would never lie to me to protect my sensibilities. His entire being was made to give people what they desired, and his station here, with White, was to serve. If I asked, he'd answer truthfully. Even if he knew it would upset me.
“She was protecting a class of nocturnal supernaturals from a group of misinformed humans. None of her students were harmed. She was successful in protecting them.”
I shook my head. The dean was dead, but Orion considered that a success because the people she'd protected were still alive. I was a little worried about him and his world view.
“Okay, so...no school for me for a while. And your asshole employer wants me to come work at some private clinic?”
He nodded, not commenting on my insult toward his beloved employer. “He has asked that I show you the facilities and extend an invitation for you to train there. I understand...that is, he has suggested that you may have had some talent for healing, in your past life. He thought perhaps it would be of comfort to you now, to be able to assist others.”
I hated it. I hated that this supposedly generous offer was being made by the monster who ruined my life and stole my immortality. Because in any other circumstance it would sound like an amazing opportunity. But now, it just sounded like a trap. Maybe a bribe to sweeten me up and make me forget who the enemy was.
“What is this clinic?” I said slowly. “Is that just some code word for a prison cell or something? Is he just trying to lure me in so he can capture me and torture me or something?”
One corner of Orion's pretty mouth twitched upward as he tried to suppress a laugh. “The clinic is a clinic, Troya. It usually serves the supernatural community of Ontonagon, however, Mr. White has opened it up to anyone who is in need at this time, due to the number of wounded after the attack a few days ago.” He arched a honey-colored brow. “Might I suggest you at least come see the facility? I fear you've spent too long cooped up here as it is, if you really think you'd be caged and tortured....”
I laughed. “Okay, so maybe you're not wrong about that.”