Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
EZRA
The sandpaper affections of Lilith woke him in time to save what was left of his nose from her tongue. She merped at him, flicking her tail, and promptly turned around and showed him her butt in displeasure before settling down to nap on his chest.
Everything hurt. Top to bottom. “Hecate’s spine, what the fuck,” he groaned, voice rough and cracking.
He was thankful as always that the patron goddess of necromancers didn’t mind casual blasphemy, as he was going to be swearing a lot more considering how horrible he felt.
He wiggled his toes and was glad to find them all present and accounted for, along with his fingers.
That meant Grendel and the others got him out of the forest before frostbite claimed any body parts.
With a wiggle he snuck a hand under the white blanket pulled up to his chin and checked the most important appendage.
Which was fine, if a bit demanding in its need for the bathroom.
Ezra swore softly as he tried to sit up, managing to roll enough to dislodge Lilith, who took the warm spot the second he was far enough over.
The room was unfamiliar, and he squinted at the white walls, the tall ceiling with a slowly rotating fan, and the floor to ceiling windows that took up the left wall.
The sun was pouring into the room, and he couldn’t make out much beyond the windows, but he heard faint sounds of traffic and people.
His bags were stacked beside the closed door on the wall opposite his bed, and an open door on the right wall led to a small bathroom, lights off, but it was bright enough to reveal a white sink and part of a white claw-foot tub.
He could see directly into the bathroom from the bed, and he was glad for the proximity, suspecting he might fall if he stood too quickly.
Ezra rubbed at his eyes and face, trying to wake himself up enough to drag his ass out of bed.
He wasn’t too worried about the state of himself or the world—the sun was shining, and Lilith was with him.
There was even a cheap plastic litter box set up under the sink in the bathroom, and a couple bowls of food and water were tucked out of the way along the wall next to his stuff.
Careful not to squish his familiar, Ezra eased out of bed, grimacing at his shaking limbs and building headache.
He was stripped down to his boxer briefs and there was a hospital band on his right wrist and a bandage on the inside of his left elbow from an IV.
He wasn’t currently attached to anything though, so he was probably in a recovery room somewhere after he cleared the emergency department.
It was only a few steps to the bathroom, but it felt like a mile, and he wasn’t ashamed of the breaks he took between using the toilet and looking for a toothbrush.
Thankfully there was a sealed travel toiletry kit set on the counter beside the basin, and he drank enough water from the tap to feel some sort of life return to his arms and legs.
He cleaned up at the sink as best he could, wincing as he brushed his teeth, the movement enough to make it feel like his brain was bruised.
His head still hurt something fierce but considering the huge amount of personal energy he spent in redirecting the skull’s destructive magics, he was glad to be alive.
He sat on the edge of the tub for a bit and then found the strength to shower, glad that, whoever his host was, they were kind enough to leave out some towels and a simple bar of soap.
The bandage and wrist band went in the trash, and he didn’t seem to have anything worse than slight bruising at the IV site.
The pain in his head settled down to a dull ache at the base of his skull when he finally walked out of the bathroom, carefully rubbing his hair with a towel to dry it.
He didn’t know where his comb was, so he ran his fingers through the damp strands until it felt relatively neat.
Thankfully his hair didn’t do much except get a bit wavy.
He tossed the towel on the end of the bed and slowly made his way over to his stuff.
He wasn’t worried about walking around naked as he fumbled through his bags looking for the one holding his clothing, far too achy and out of it to give a shit.
Black t-shirt, soft, well-worn jeans, clean boxer briefs, socks, and his boots were all he managed before sitting on the bed to catch his breath. Lilith slow-blinked at him from her spot on the bed, tail flicking contentedly.
“Time to see who our hosts are, huh?” Voice a bit ragged, he coughed, wishing for some coffee and carbs.
She stood gracefully from her kitty loaf and stretched, yawning wide.
“Ahh, big yawn,” he complimented his familiar, and Ezra scratched her chin for a bit to calm his mind before he braved whatever was on the other side of the door.
He was tempted to grab his meds but didn’t know what drugs they might have given him while he was out of it, so he figured a day unmedicated would be fine if he took it slowly.
He stood after he figured he might as well get it over with, Lilith jumping down to follow at his heels as he went to the door and opened it.
There was a key inserted into the outside of the doorknob, a plain white plastic keychain dangling from it, and Ezra took the key, locked the door, and shut it before pocketing the key to the room.
He stood in a narrow hallway with grey-washed wooden floors and white walls, framed by a tall ceiling with skylights.
The sky overhead was bright blue with a few wispy clouds racing across the bit he could see through the glass.
The hallway ended to his right at a window looking across a short green space to another building, so he went left, heading for the sound of people.
The hall emptied into a large common area, a cold fireplace off on the far wall, and two big hallways on his left and right converging on the space.
There was a stone patio and open French doors, and the warm breeze kicked up and flirted with the gauzy white curtains.
Over the fireplace was a stone relief, and he felt a jolt of recognition at the sight of the triform of the goddess Hecate.
She was holding the symbols of Her power: the key, torch, snake, and dagger.
At the feet of the triform relief were two dogs, standing sentinel.
Hecate was a chthonic goddess and fond of Her necromancers.
Despite not being devout, he felt better about his situation.
Hecate was the goddess of witchcraft, necromancy, and myriad other underworld aspects.
She was a protective goddess and tended to dwell in places where She was invoked.
If she was the patron goddess of this hospital, then it was a practitioner space and particularly suited to treat magical depletion.
There were people farther down the hall on his right, and one of them saw him and began heading his way.
Lilith sat at his feet, tail curled around her toes.
The flooring and the high ceilings with crown molding placed the building in a previous century for certain, and he felt like he was in a boutique hotel somewhere pricey. He wasn’t paying for his stay, that was for sure. Or his medical care. Thankfully all that was in his contract with MERS.
“Sorcerer Redmayne?”
A young man in a white uniform smiled inoffensively at him from a few feet away, and Ezra arched a brow at him, too tired to answer with words. The other man seemed to understand, his expression kind.
“I’m Jeremy, I’m a nurse here at Sacred Threshold Hospital. Major Grendel has been waiting for you to wake up, and is hoping to see you.”
Sacred Threshold. Definitely a practitioner hospital then, and one devoted to Hecate. He was in good hands.
“She got any food with her?” He didn’t feel like eating, but his body needed fuel.
Magical burnout was dangerous—he could easily relapse and get organ damage or suffer a stroke if he didn’t replace what he physically expended shutting down the artifact.
His voice was still rough, and he discreetly coughed into his fist, hoping he didn’t sound like he went on a weekend-long bender.
The young man pinked across his fair cheeks and awkwardly nodded. “Your breakfast is in the conference room.”
He had no idea what had the young man staring at him like he hung the moon. “Um, thanks. Lead the way.”
Ezra clapped softly for Lilith, and she jumped into his arms. He snuggled her into the crook of his left arm, where she draped gracefully, her big ears tipped forward, eyes bright and curious.
Nurse Jeremy cast her a few inquisitive glances but refrained from asking any of the questions most people couldn’t resist when they saw her for the first time.
Lykoi cats weren’t all that common, especially outside the United States.
Some uninformed people thought she was sick or had mange, but her thin hair, lack of undercoat, and the bare areas around her eyes, nose, and muzzle were part of the breed standard.
The guard hairs along her body were distinct, in varying shades of black and gray, and Ezra enjoyed the striking appearance of his familiar.