“What about it?”
“Chase and Greyson. That’s why they could use magic like that. That was the only thing that could hurt Zayvion.”
“Part right. Soul Complements let them screw with the laws of magic. But they threw around light and dark magic. And they could do that because Greyson is a Necromorph-half alive, half dead. Whatever he did to Chase so she could do it too-his own Soul Complement. .” He blew out smoke again. “It makes me wonder how much that bloodsucker would burn in sunlight. He’s using a hell of a lot of dark magic.”
“No. Greyson didn’t use magic. He had to use Tomi to cast Blood magic for him.”
“And now he has Chase to act as his hands. Happily ever after, evil-style, in their evil little hovel with the evil little picket fence around the evil little garden of poisonous weeds and dead bugs. Evil cookies, evil nooky-not that I have anything against those last two.” He got out of the car and I did too.
“Don’t you take anything seriously?”
“No,” he lied. “It makes me interesting.” He started off toward the elevator that would take us to ground level.
Elevator. Great.
But before I closed the door, I leaned back in the car. “You be a good boy, Stone,” I said. “Sleep. Okay?”
Stone cooed but didn’t move one granite muscle.
I shut the door. And strode across the parking structure of gray, gray, gray, my boots cuffing a loud rhythm against the concrete ceiling.
Shame waited by the elevator, hood up, his shoulders hunched, his hands in his pockets, the discarded cigarette sending up a tendril of smoke at his feet. He didn’t face the elevator doors. He faced me. Good to know he was keeping an eye out for trouble.
Just as I stopped next to him, the doors opened with a horror-sweet ding.
“After you,” he said.
Okay, I could do this. I’d done it plenty times before. “Are there stairs?”
“Fuck stairs,” he said. “Too slow. And too damn much work.”
I gritted my teeth. Couldn’t get my feet to move.
“Need a push?” he asked.
“No.”
A hand slammed into my shoulder and a body followed it. I stumbled into the elevator. “What the hell?”
“Your phobia was saying no, no, but your feet were saying yes.”
He stabbed the button and stood in the corner nearest the doors, facing me.
“If you ever listen to my feet again, I will end you, Flynn.”
He glanced at me, grinned. “Ooh. You’re kinda hot when you’re angry. I suddenly see why Jones likes to make you mad and then tumble you on the mats.”
“Don’t. Just don’t. Or they’ll have to scrape you up off this floor with a dustpan.”
He opened his mouth, thought better of it, and instead stood there and whistled.
Whistled. Using up all the air in the tiny, tiny room, filling it up with sound so that there wasn’t even room for me to hear my own thoughts. There wasn’t enough room for me to breathe. I closed my eyes and tried to picture open fields, blue skies, oceans, deserts. Big horizons, big space, big air.
A hand grabbed my upper arm and tugged, hard, propelling me toward the open doors.
I didn’t stumble this time. We were at the street level on a sidewalk covered by the overhang of the parking structure.
Shame made a
“Alone I would have taken the stairs. You are seriously pissing me off.”
“You’re welcome.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
He started off toward the doors. “Good thing about anger. It keeps you going when nothing else will.”
He’d done it on purpose. Shoved me when I didn’t even want to be touched, irritated me. My heartbeat was up, but other than that, I was thinking clearly. And not at all freaked-out from the elevator ride, though I should be. Usually it took me a couple minutes to shake off the panic from the phobia.
“You’re a real jerk, you know?”
He smiled and it looked like it hurt. “I am whatever it takes to get the job done.”
We stepped into the hospital and checked with reception to see where Violet and Kevin had been taken. Both had been admitted. Violet was in the prenatal ward three floors up. Kevin was in the intensive care unit, and visitors were not allowed. They were doing what they could to tend his magic-induced injuries with what little magic they had left.
Shit. We wouldn’t be able to get in to see him unless we wanted to storm the place. I weighed my options. Sneak in and somehow be lucky enough to see if Kevin was okay, or check on Violet.
Dad pushed at the backs of my eyes. Yeah, well, I knew what his vote would be.
“Think Kevin will be okay?” I asked Shame. We were standing shoulder to shoulder so the receptionist couldn’t hear us.
He tipped his head, thinking it over. “If he made it this far, there’s a good chance he’ll recover. Several of the Authority doctors work here. They’d know him, and know what to do with severe magical injuries.”
I nodded. That would have to be good enough for now. I didn’t know a lot about Kevin’s personal life, like if he had family in the area. I pulled my book out of my pocket and made a note to check on him tomorrow, if I could. I walked back over to the receptionist’s desk.
“Where are the stairs?” I asked. She pointed down the hall and I started off in that direction.
“You’re kidding, right?” Shame asked. “There’s a perfectly good elevator right over there.”
“Take the elevator. I don’t care.”
Shame scowled. “How about I just make you angry again? That coat makes you look fat.”
“Even more reason to take the stairs.”
“Fucking hell.” He sighed dramatically. “I hate you, Beckstrom.”
“Hold on to that,” I said. “You know, because anger will get you there.”
Shame rolled his shoulders and I heard more bone grind than I should. Like a fricking walking corpse, he still had his hood of his coat up, the shadows catching moss green against his sallow skin.
Maybe I should make him check into the hospital. Maybe he was sicker than I thought. Maybe the magic Chase had used on him, and the magic he had used to help me save Zayvion, had done something more permanent than he wanted to admit.
I found the door to the stairs and pushed it open. It was only three flights up, and I did that every day at home. But I was a little worried about Shame.
An elevator probably would be his best choice. “You know I won’t get killed between here and the third floor,” I said.
“Yep. Because I’m gonna be there to protect you. Walk.”
I shook my head and started up the stairs. I did not need his protection. There was no magic, so it wasn’t like someone would magically attack me. Which meant I could get killed only the old-fashioned way-with guns, knives, strangling, beating. Okay, maybe it was nice to have Shame with me. I could handle myself just fine physically-even better now that I’d been training-but it never hurt to have an ally in a fight.
We didn’t say anything as we climbed. Shame walked behind me, and I listened for his breathing, which remained good, strong, and his footsteps, equal to my pace.
He didn’t sound like someone who hovered one breath away from the shambling dead. Shame knew how to handle pain.
“So which doctors are a part of the Authority?” I asked on the second floor.
“Not saying.”
“Why? Is it that big of a secret?”
“Enough that I don’t want to talk about it in a stairwell with this much echo. Would have told you in a nice quiet elevator, though.”
I grinned. “Bitch, bitch, bitch.”
We made it to the top of the stairwell and I opened the door, then followed the signs to the reception
