Lyra's team must have made camp with the other soldiers nearby and gone to bed already. It was late. Or early, I guess, depending on your perspective. Right now, there was only one perspective that I was interested in…
The medic on duty came out as I walked up. She pushed her square black glasses up her nose. "Are you here to check on your survivor?" Survivor. She was right; Kane was a survivor.
"Yes," I said. "Is that okay?" I was hoping to sneak past any medical staff. She looked tired as could be, though.
"You're the captain." She shrugged. "I'm off duty now, but alert the guards if there's any trouble. The next medic will come back on in a few hours. We're a bit short tonight, since my other guy had to go grab some supplies from the nearby clinic, but he’s stable enough that I’m not worried about him."
I promised to keep an eye on him. Inside the tent, only a few lights were on, but they meant that my shadow was probably prominently displayed on the outside of the tent. I settled in a fold-out chair at his bedside. He looked better than he had when I’d found him.
Suddenly, I was so aware of him. His presence took up the entire tent, even while sleeping. He was beautiful—not like Dorian's dark elegance, but in his own savage way. Everything about him was sharp. My throat dried as I studied him.
Why did you kiss me?
"I can't get it out of my head," I whispered. There was nobody awake to hear me. Kane's chest rose and fell with long, gentle movements. I would've thought he’d sleep fitfully, knowing him. What was going to happen with us?
He’d been delirious when he’d kissed me, on death's door. My heart slammed against my chest. A part of me, deep inside, whispered that I didn't want the delirious excuse to be true.
He could've mistaken me for anyone…
But there was nobody else's voice in my head but his, and my voice in his head. Didn’t that mean something?
I pushed the thought of dramatic brink-of-death kisses from my brain. More than anything, I wanted Kane to wake up in good health. I needed to know everything that had happened to him in the Pocket Space. He’d mentioned a few things that he hadn't been able to explain. What had happened to him during his time there? It was worse than the Ghost, whatever it was.
I leaned back in the chair, finally feeling sleep tug at my eyes. He always made me feel safer, even when he was the one in the freaking medical cot.
What could all this mean? I lapsed into sleep with the question fresh on my mind.
36
Roxy
Where am I? Four days later, the question slid into my brain, foreign but not unwelcome. My face froze, so I wouldn’t break into a huge smile and give myself away.
"Did you grab mayo?" Holt asked Jordan, and my sibling forked over a pile of mayonnaise packets with no questions asked. Why had he grabbed eight? We were gathered at a cafeteria table in the Chicago Bureau building.
You’re in my brain. I waited with bated breath, but Kane clearly hadn't tuned in to my voice, because he didn't reply.
I tried to play it cool and stabbed a fry into a pile of ketchup, promising myself to eventually get into salads. Kane was talking to someone now.
"I'm fine. I can get up by myself. It's just my head," Kane grumbled. "You're a medic?"
I strained to listen while Jessie launched into an impression of Hindley yelling at us. We had just finished another round of paperwork and testimonies about our mission. I was miraculously not fired, and had even received a rare compliment for being brave. Hindley was displeased about my temporary absence, but she was always stern.
Kane's voice came back. He sounded completely clear now. "I was… The Pocket Space? That's what they're calling it, fine. What happened?"
I would've killed to hear the full conversation. Where was he? I hadn't heard him in my head since he’d kissed me and then passed out when Colin and I had rescued him. I half thought that our mental connection would disappear after I’d rescued him, but it seemed to still be present.
Holt sipped his water while the twins shot paper straw wrappers at one another.
"Lunch good today?" I asked Holt, trying for casual. He snorted and shook his head. The Bureau cafeteria was no culinary hotspot.
Kane had to be with a vampire healer. Chandry and Arlonne had taken over his care in the Mortal Plane, but they might've called for a more experienced medic when they took Kane back through a portal to the Immortal Plane. Luckily, there was a gate in the Sierras. They’d needed to get him fed and looked after. Judging from the strength in Kane's voice, they’d succeeded.
When I had visited Kane, I’d fallen asleep in the chair by his bedside. I’d woken up there on the final day of the Hellraisers’ mission, and there was no excuse I could make to extend our mission to stay close to Kane, even if I was concerned about him. He looked like he was in better shape, but he needed to go back to the Immortal Plane to be healed completely. Lyra, Dorian, and Chandry had caught me waking up, but they’d said nothing. They’d just accepted that I had slept there to monitor him, thankfully.
But now, I was hearing his voice again. A mixture of annoyance and excitement ran through me as I mindlessly chewed my food. This voice in my head is going to be a thing forever now, I guess.
"I told you, I'm fine," Kane insisted, a beat of frustration in his
