Chapter 22
GEMMA
The grumpy doctor was staring at her.
“You are awake. Speak,” he ordered.
Gemma wanted to rub her forehead, but her arms were too heavy. Sleep lingered, and it took a few seconds to process what Dr. Kalen said. “What? You want me to bark like a dog?”
“Malicious compliance, very good. The procedure did not impair your sarcasm.” He almost sounded approving. “You understood me and replied in kind. The new translation chip is integrating into your brain. You may experience a headache and blurred vision.”
“Where is Zalis?”
“I am here,” Zalis said.
She rolled her head to the side. There he was.
She wanted to smile, but while her brain was on board, her body was not getting the message.
The best it could do was flop out a hand.
He understood because this man who said he had difficulty understanding people and reading their unspoken cues totally got her and held her hand.
“How do you feel?” the doctor asked.
“I feel fine.” Great, actually. She felt floaty, aware of her body but only in an abstract way.
“That is because we injected you with what we call the good stuff for the surgery.”
“That’s the medical name?” she asked, more interested in exercising her sassing muscles than getting an answer.
The doctor seemed to understand this, or they really did give her the good stuff, because he wasn’t being rude or condescending. “The effects will wear off. If you are in pain, we can administer a pain reliever.”
“I’m fine.”
“Do not suffer because of pride,” Zalis said.
“I won’t.” She gave his hand a squeeze, so the motor control was returning. He squeezed back gently.
Dr. Kalen held out a small vial. “This belongs to you.”
Gemma dropped Zalis’ hand and took the vial. The chip inside was no larger than a grain of rice. “It’s so small.”
“It is a standard translation chip.”
“Do I keep it?” she asked.
“Wear it as a trophy taken from a fallen enemy if you wish,” Kalen answered.
Gemma shivered. No thanks. She didn’t want that thing anywhere near her. “Can you destroy it? I don’t want it.”
“I can analyze it and determine if it was used for tracking,” Zalis offered.
She wanted it erased from existence but if there was information that could help track down the missing women, then she needed to put her feelings aside. Besides, it was healthier to know, to take control of the situation and all that.
“I can have it incinerated,” Kalen offered when she didn’t answer right away.
“No, let Zalis analyze it,” she said. “Use it to catch those bastards.”
The doctor gave a quick nod, as if approving. “You will stay twenty-four hours for observation.”
“But—” she started to protest.
Kalen’s expression grew serious. “You had brain surgery. Implanting a translation chip is easy. Any fool with an injector can do it, but to remove it without damage is complicated. You will stay. You will rest.”
That was directed toward Zalis, who dipped his head as if agreeing.
This seemed to satisfy the doctor. Something in the way he stood a bit straighter whispered to Gemma that he was about to leave. Before he could go, she blurted out, “I want therapy.”
For reasons that confused her but would make sense in retrospect, her heart raced. She took a breath to steady herself. “It’s been a lot. All this. I’ve had nightmares. I just… I should talk to someone.”
The doctor was silent. He was going to tell her no or recommend some bullshit meditation and herbal teas. He hadn’t wanted to take the translation chip out; he certainly wouldn’t do this. Gemma just knew it.
He said, “There is no one currently on board with the necessary qualifications. If you are amenable, we can arrange for virtual sessions with a licensed therapist. A Sangrin-based provider will have a better real-time connection, which would be a more satisfactory experience. If you prefer a human, you should be aware that the connection will lag and that can be counterproductive for therapeutic purposes.”
“A Sangrin therapist can deal with… my issues?” Inexplicably, she found herself reluctant to say the words.
“We will find a suitable provider. I will review a list of candidates with you tomorrow. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes. Great,” she said, surprised. “That’s it? That was so easy.”
“Did you think that I would deny your treatment because I could not provide it?”
“Actually, yes,” she admitted. “Sorry. That’s a shitty thing to say.”
“My bedside manner is known to be abrasive,” he said.
“No arguments here,” she replied. Their entire conversation had been far more pleasant than her first visit. Maybe Nurse Daisy was right, and he had been cranky from staying up with the new baby.
“My patients are larger than me, stronger than me, in pain, and obstinate. I often forget myself when speaking with females, human or otherwise.” He paused, as if considering his next words.
“Humans have an amazing capacity for survival, which is astounding when you consider that your bones are made of spun sugar.”
And there he was, back to classic rude doctor.
Kalen wasn’t done yet. “No claws. No fangs. No scales. No protective features at all. What you do have is adaptability and an extraordinary brain.”
“Thanks, I think,” she said.
“When it comes to survival, the human brain is on alert for danger and puts the body in a state to fight or flee. It can escalate in a matter of seconds, releasing hormones and priming the body to escape the situation.”
“Or fight.” She remembered reading anecdotes about parents gaining the strength to lift a car off an injured child. Adrenaline and stress worked wonders.
“Where the human brain disappoints,” Kalen said, “is deescalating. Believing that you are safe. An unexpected noise, lights, memory, or another association can trigger this response.”
The collapse in the tunnel hadn’t been anything like her time in the cage.
Except for being trapped.
Gemma nodded her head. Yeah, that might do it.
“You have survived an extraordinarily stressful event. Your brain is having difficulty believing that you are safe. There is no shame in seeking help. The only shame is that I failed to notice you were struggling.”
“Thank you, but I wasn’t ready for therapy then,” she said. Emry had suggested it. Even Mercy on the day of the tour had casually dropped hints about being there if Gemma needed to talk.
Having Kalen tell her that her stress, her trauma, the nightmares, the feeling of dread that wouldn’t go away was just the way her brain was wired was surprisingly comforting. All systems were working as intended. She wasn’t broken. They didn’t break her.
“What do the Mahdfel do for stress?” she asked.
Kalen now glanced at Zalis. “We are built differently. Keeping calm and finding our focus is emphasized. We have meditation and breathing exercises. Zalis is capable of teaching you, if you wish.” With an order to rest, he left the room.
The sounds of Medical drifted in: beeping equipment, conversations in the corridor, and the rattle of a cart. For being in a private room, it was surprisingly loud. The walls must have been made of paper. She didn’t know if sleep was possible.
Gemma leaned back into the pillows. “Did you hear that? You’re capable.”
ZALIS
“Such praise,” he replied.
“Was that sarcasm?”
That had not been his intention but he was pleased she thought so. Any praise from Gemma filled him with satisfaction. “Humor is your preferred mode of communication. I am learning.”
“Don’t go changing yourself for me,” she said.
“Tell me why.” He leaned forward, eager to hear the words.
“Because I love you.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “I keep rehearsing it in my mind. I know I said it before, but I want to get it perfect.”
“Your words are perfect.”
“Here goes.” Another deep breath. “I think I’ve loved you from the start, when I was tied to that chair and scared and you told me what you were doing.
Every step of the way. You were patient and made me less afraid, made me feel safe.
I latched onto that, and—” She held up a hand, gesturing for him to remain silent.
“We’ve talked about that to death, so let’s not.
I did what I did. I’m not sorry, because it brought me to you.
So yeah, it took me a while to realize, but I do love you. This is real.”
Zalis took her hand. His skin burned with devotion. “I want to show you how your words affect me, but propriety—”
“And the doctor would yell at us.”
“I love you, Gemma, with every molecule of my being. You are brave, clever, and patient. You are more than I deserve. All these years I have longed for a mate, for a love match, only to discover that I was waiting for you. All that I am is yours, entirely. Every breath belongs to you.”
Her smile was radiant with the glow of a hundred suns. Her hand twisted in his, pulling him forward.
With one hand planted on the mattress to prevent himself from toppling in, he loomed over her. “When you are released, when I have you alone, I will show you.”