I grimace. “Gnarly.”
“It is that,” Ms. Alvarez says, gliding from her corner to my bedside. “Those blasted bullets can’t kill ghosts, but they certainly do a number on us. They’ll knock you unconscious if you’re hit in the right spot. The swelling and pain should dissipate in a week or so. You’ll carry those ugly lines until you pass on though, I’m afraid.”
“Well that’s garbage.” I snicker a little. “Guess tube tops will be out until then.”
“Makes you look tough,” Rafe says. “Warrior queen, remember?”
I poke his knee. “And don’t you forget it.”
Rafe laughs. “Wouldn’t dare. All of Locklear will hear of your mad skills.”
Ms. Alvarez tucks her clipboard under an arm and puts both fists on her hips. “Now that you know Ms. Martin is going to be fine, will you finally let me look at your leg, Mr. Warren?” She lifts a finger when he opens his mouth to protest. “Don’t try to tell me you didn’t get hit. I see the stain on that pant leg and the one you’re hiding under that flannel, young man. Your injuries need tending to.”
With her glasses perched on the end of her nose, and that finger in Rafe’s face, she looks nothing short of a fierce momma who will swat you with a sandal for your own good. Only an idiot would argue with her.
Rafe, not being an idiot, lifts his hands in surrender.
Ms. Alvarez shoos him into the bed next to mine, gently pushing up the cuff of his jeans to reveal a black wound much uglier than mine. I let out a little gasp and try to sit up. The pain, and the look Ms. Alvarez gives me, pin me back onto the bed.
“Don’t you worry. Yours looked much worse when he first brought you in here. He’ll be fine.” She squints at his calf, then arcs a brow at him. “And your side?”
Rafe grimaces. “It’s just-”
“Don’t you dare say ‘a scratch.’” Her accent thickens in direct correlation to her fierceness.
With a sigh, Rafe lifts the edge of his t-shirt, but winces and lets it drop. He glances at me, then shuts his eyes and uses our cool ghosty power to remove it. The sight of his back reminds me of his mother’s attack and sparks fury in my gut. I dig my nails into the bed under me, then force my eyes down to the gunshot wound on his side, nearly sitting up again when I see it. Black spreads from the thick gash over his ribs, along his stomach, and snakes up his spine. The same sort of smoke that spread from my shoulder in the woods coils up from his injury.
Ms. Alvarez clicks her tongue. “As I thought. Lie down.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
The Healer shifts to block my view. “Never you mind. You need to rest, and worrying about Mr. Warren is not conducive to recovery. I’ll fix him right up and he’ll likely be out of here before you. Though if it helps you relax, neither of these are very deep. The bullets just grazed him.” She hovers her hands over Rafe’s side.
This time when the life flash edges into my vision, I give it my full attention. I’m in a bedroom, the same truck-filled one I saw before. Strong arms hold me back as I wail. Cody lies on the bed covered in blood and completely still. The Healer bending over him drops her hands, face twisted into an apology.
It fades again, leaving me behind in tears and confusion. I still can’t remember what killed him no matter how hard I try. As I sniff, attempting to get myself under control, Rafe reaches out around Ms. Alvarez’s side. I grab his hand, hanging on to the only thing that feels solid at the moment.
That night, harsh whispers break me out of half sleep. I squint through the dim light of the Healer’s Ward to the partially open door. Ms. Alvarez stands with Mr. Qureshi in the hallway. As she gestures toward my bed, her red glasses slide down to the tip of her nose.
“We told you they weren’t ready,” she says in a hiss. “Mr. Warren is still so tangled up from what happened at Blakemore that his ability to sense where he needs to go next is completely blocked and Ms. Martin...Ms. Martin needed to understand more before we sent her out to help anyone with their unfinished business. We need to understand more about what happened to her, and what it might mean.”
My eyes widen, but I try not to move, straining to listen.
“I can appreciate that.” Mr. Qureshi folds one arm across his waist and strokes his beard. “But we have precious little time. As far as we know there isn’t much we can do with our students who have been twisted. The faster we can secure the remains of our new pupils, the better.”
Ms. Alvarez lifts her hands. "And if they’re caught by the Xers and trapped? What can we do for them then? Ms. Martin has the tools to handle that, once she remembers them, but Mr. Warren has no defense against this kind of spell. I strongly advise against sending either of them out again until they are better prepared.”
With a sigh, Mr. Qureshi nods. “I promise to consider that. There is still a strong possibility that Kazuya will track down their bodies before it is necessary for them to try again anyhow. In the meantime, we will continue training them. Perhaps this will help encourage Ms. Martin’s memories back more quickly as well.”
Ms. Alvarez readjusts her glasses. “Have you considered my other proposal on how to properly...take care of her?”
I cover my mouth to keep from making a sound. That phrase has way too many meanings for me to be comfortable with it.
“I have,
