Lucille
Chapter
Nineteen
Healers with orange and purple amulets helped each of us to separate rooms. They placed me on the bed. Scissors flashed.
“Wait.” I tried to bat them away, but even with Ronen’s shadows disabling my pain receptors, my arm barely lifted. “You don’t have to cut my uniform.”
“Don’t move,” a male with too many freckles said, splitting my leathers. “This is procedure.”
The other healers stripped me down to my undergarments, surveying the dark shadows lodged in each puncture wound.
Warm water and cloth followed, their touch gentle against my skin.
By the time they finished, a healer with a red amulet that matched her long red hair strode in and dismissed all but freckle-face.
“I’m Amelia, a common healer. I’ll assess the damage, stabilize the punctures, and heal your smaller cuts.” She surveyed my body and clicked her tongue, then turned to freckle-face. “Please ask the general to remove his shadows from my patient.”
“Why?” I asked as the male left.
“We need to gauge how you’re responding to the healing.”
Dammit.
I closed my eyes, preparing for the pain. Ronen’s shadows slowly receded from my mind and wounds. The throbbing sifted back in, and my teeth clenched. It was worse in my arm.
Ronen’s tickling wisps coiled around my limbs, seeming reluctant to leave. They tried to weave tighter, but ultimately Ronen won, and they fled the room.
Amelia didn’t hesitate. Red power flared from her hands and plunged into each wound.
I gasped as they sizzled. It burned like she’d poured alcohol into them.
But the sensation lasted only a few seconds before it was replaced by warm pressure.
My muscles loosened with each breath. Her glowing power replaced Ronen’s shadows before she did one last scan of my body. I tensed.
But there was no pain, only a tingling sensation that gentled my stinging cuts and pressure that touched my insides.
“Done. Take this.” She handed me a vial from her pocket. “It’ll help the pain until the elite healer sees you. Rest up.” Then she jotted a few things down on a clipboard and left.
I drank the nasty pain reliever and tried to rest in the scratchy bed. It was difficult when the scenes kept replaying, and my mind and body felt violated.
I stabbed Ronen.
The memory punched me in the stomach.
He wouldn’t let me save Aspen. But I didn’t want to fucking stab him. Or die.
I clutched my head, pulling on my hair like I could somehow rip out the thing that took possession of me.
“Bad time?” Oliver asked, peeking his head into my room. “I’d say I could come back later, but I’ve finally escaped my prison, and I’m not leaving until you tell me what the hell happened.” He strode in, sporting the white patient gown.
My hands flopped to the bed, and I just looked at him.
“Oh, Luce,” Oliver said gently, then added, “Scooch your tiny ass over. It’s time you fill your best friend in.”
I made room, and he climbed into the bed, his pasty cheek flashing me as the patient gown rode up. “Why are you still wearing that? Won’t Sam let you put on something else?”
He shrugged. “I think Sam likes it.”
Something in his tone made me pause. “Likes it?”
He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me tight to his chest, but I didn’t miss his small smile. “Yeah, it makes him laugh…” He trailed off. “We’re not getting into this. Tell me what happened.”
Now I was more curious than ever.
“But—”
“You first, Luce.”
“Fine.” I relayed the events he missed. Well, most of them.
With Oliver’s exclamations and questions, it took longer than I thought.
I told him about the figure who’d been watching us.
Not that there was much to tell. But I couldn’t let it go.
Something about it needled me with questions.
I was just about to tell him how Aspen’s hand-holding saved the day when Sam walked in.
“Really?” Oliver complained. “You have the worst timing, Sammy.”
Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I shouldn’t even be surprised you’re not in your room.”
“Nope,” Oliver agreed.
“Please save me some gray hairs and remove yourself from Lucille’s bed so I can finish healing her.”
“I could appreciate a silver fox.”
“Oliver!” Sam barked.
“Moving.” He lifted his hands in surrender and plopped into the chair next to my bed, a hint of mirth in his tone.
Sam read the clipboard in his hand. “Lucille, I need to perform another diagnostic check. You’ll feel more pressure this time.”
Wonderful.
He touched his amulet, and a gold light erupted in both hands. He raised them above my body, then sent his light into me. The pressure drilled into me more intensely than Amelia’s power, but I handled it. Until my insides started to sting.
I tensed, fisting my sheets.
“It’s okay. Some of your connective tissue was seared, but I’m healing it. I’m almost done.”
Oliver reached for my hand.
“Do not touch her,” Sam chided, sending more of his misleading golden light into my body.
I clenched my teeth for five insanely long seconds before he finished.
“Your power sucks,” I grumbled.
Sam’s lip twitched. “Now you sound like Oliver.”
“Except my reaction was a little more colorful.”
“Yes. That it was,” Sam said, something passing between them that I didn’t understand. He returned his attention to me. “The process of healing isn’t meant to feel good, only the end result. Do you feel a little better?”
“Yes.”
Sam nodded. “Do you want to explain how you burned the inside of your body?”
“I had some outside help. But I’m not entirely sure what happened.”
Sam surveyed me, waiting for me to say more.
When I shrugged, he shook his head. “Well, if you know the source. I’d advise avoiding it.
If the burns had proceeded any deeper, your organs would’ve been in danger.
Luckily, most of your puncture wounds only damaged muscle, cleansing and healing will be quick, and I’ll give you a shot to numb the areas when I stitch. ”
Marcus flashed before me, a needle stabbing into my vein. His taunting laughter echoed in my ears as he did it again and again while I was pinned to the metal table.
“No.”
Oliver and Sam both frowned.
“No needles.”
“Lucille, this will be painful,” Sam warned.
Oliver grabbed my hand and squeezed. “What if you just look away, Luce?”
The cold cement room sank into my bones. Marcus jabbed my leg, pulled the needle out, and tried again. Shallow. Deep. Repeating the process until he “got it just right.”
“No—” I swallowed. “No shots, no needles. Can’t you just use your powers?”
“No. Certain injuries require a mixture of magical and mechanical procedures. We also need to limit what we use our energy on.” He held up his yellow amulet. “This permits me to use a lot more than most. But I still have limits, and Virtues fall prey to Divine Wasting more than any other angel.”
“And here I thought you wore it to bring out the golden flecks in your hazel eyes,” Oliver chimed in, and Sam’s freckled face pinkened.
“And you’re sure we can’t use Ronen?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Sam considered me. “Lucille, I’ve already done this once to you.”
“I was unconscious. What if you knock me out?”
Sam pursed his lips, then nodded. “I’ll have to put you under to suture your torn tendon. So I suppose I can heal the rest of your wounds while you’re under.” He stood. “I’ll be back with the sedative tonic.”
Oliver watched him leave, and when the door closed, he continued to stare after him.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” I said.
He whipped around. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You sure? Because I think you might have a crush—”
“Shut up!” Oliver hissed right as the door opened again.
Sam panned between the two of us. “Have I missed something?”
“Nope,” we both answered quickly.
“As if I’d ever believe that. Here.” Sam handed me a vial. “Drink, and when you wake up, you’ll be fully healed.”
“Sweet dreams, Luce! I’ll keep an eye on our healer here, make sure he does his job right.” He winked.
“Mhmm.” He wasn’t hiding anything from me.
I threw back the vial. A minty chemical taste tingled my tongue before my body became heavy and the room faded.
“Lucy,” someone sang. “Wakey, wakey.”
I blinked, and Oliver’s face swam into view.
“There she is.”
I groaned as my thoughts danced out of reach.
“Sam had to go tend to our friends. Said you’d feel lethargic for a few minutes.”
I sat up farther in bed, staring at the stitches in my arm and legs.
“He couldn’t spare the energy to heal them closed,” Oliver explained.
He was helping us all. I’d rather have scars than have him use unnecessary energy.
I swallowed, trying to ease the dryness in my throat and clear the bitter taste on my tongue, with no luck. “Water?”
“Right. Sam mentioned that too.” Oliver handed me a glass.
I drank.
“Better?”
“Mhmm.”
“Great!” He moved back onto the bed, squishing me as he shoved me over. “Now finish your story. How’d you beat the Shard Storm?”
I snorted. Only Oliver. After a few more swallows and swishes, I cleared my throat and explained why my insides were burned.
Oliver’s bug-eyes and open mouth pretty much matched the theme for this last week. The fact that he had no words told me everything I needed to know. I waited. Once he picked his mouth up off the ground, he said, “Aspen used the ceremonial words for a cordistella union to give you more energy.”
“Excuse me, what?”
Oliver nodded, his brows raised with a yeah, exactly expression on his face. “He said the words, and they actually worked. Well, let’s say worked with consequences.”
I grabbed his arms. “Does that mean—we’re not—”
Oh, Heavenly Shit. Was that why Ronen was so pissed off? Was I—no. No!
Oliver poked my fresh stitches, and I hissed. “Sorry, didn’t want you to hyperventilate.”
I glared. He tilted his head, his hair flopping half over his eyes as he smiled with all his teeth and brought his hands up to his chin. “Didn’t ya miss me?”
“Maybe.”
His feigned cuteness dropped, and he jabbed my stitches again.
“Hey!” I shouted.
“That’s what you get for keeping me in the dark these last few days! I expected morning and night, maybe even afternoon, reports, Lucille Chiara! As a best friend should very well know to do.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Aspen’s—”
“A ripe old bastard who clearly needs a lot of help.”
“He’s not as old as you or Ronen,” I mumbled over him.
Oliver quirked a brow. “I will poke you again.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. It’s just Oli, with his quirky personality and teasing, always filled me with… bubbles. Light, colorful bubbles that made me giggle and feel like a child again. With him and Alexei, I’m not sure how anyone could be depressed.
Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. Maybe Oliver and Alexei should take Aspen out on a man-date of sorts.
“Lucy!” He snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Let’s get back on track, shall we?”
“Well, do you think…”
“No. Even if, by some impossible happenstance, he was your cordistella—which he’s not—you still wouldn’t be officially bonded. You never repeated the phrase. And, to be honest, he skipped a few words.”
“You know this how?”
Oliver glanced around the room, gesturing to the single chair, bare walls, and side table with vials and medical tools. “How exactly do you think I get my entertainment? Besides staring at Sam’s ass when I can—”
I opened my mouth, completely ready to hop on that conversation, but he held up his hand, stopping me.
“I eavesdrop, which is proving semi-informative, and I read. Especially about topics related to my best friend. And Cato, begrudgingly, gives me the books per Sam’s orders.” Oliver smiled in a smug, dreamy sort of way. It was a smile I’d never seen on his face before. I quite liked it.
Knowing he wasn’t ready to talk about whatever was going on, I refrained from digging. “Okay, so then why did it work?”
Oliver raised a finger. “Better question—why did he think it would?”
I slumped back and leaned my head onto his shoulder.
So Aspen was back to hiding things. And Oliver, like always, was here by my side, making me smile and helping me through it.
“Sam would be lucky to have you.”
Oliver pulled me in close and rested his head on mine. “I am a pretty great catch.”
I snorted. “Now you sound like Alexei.”
I hoped Sam was able to salvage his wings.
“Yeah. Only issue is I’ll be cleared to leave the healers’ wing tomorrow.”
“How is that an issue?” I felt like jumping for joy and clapping my hands.
He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the wall. “Besides the fact that I’m still unsure if my feelings are one-sided, Sam isn’t happy about the idea of me leaving Hell to find my sister.”
Heavenly Hell yeah!
Oliver side-eyed me. “Get that stupid grin off your face,” he said as one spread across his own.
Now it was my turn to tilt my head and put my hands beneath my chin. “Oli and Sam sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i—”
He ripped the pillow from behind my back and shoved it over my face. “What are we, twelve?” he whispered harshly in my ear. “He could hear you.”
“You did think I was thirteen.” I laughed, my voice muffled in the scratchy pillow fabric.
“I’m already regretting mentioning anything. I’ve never…” He trailed off, removing the pillow. “Melanie’s still out there.”
I took his hand. “I know.”
I could see he was torn. He was scared to pursue Sam.
Even more so knowing Sam didn’t approve of him leaving.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure leaving was the right move either.
We had no idea where his sister was. We couldn’t go back to the Tenebrous Kingdom and just hope to find her like we did with Aspen.
And Oliver deserved some happiness. He deserved to have someone else look after him, especially an angel who never once called him “Nephilim.” I was all aboard the Sam train.
A different plan began to form in my head. One that seemed safer, but one I wasn’t sure Oliver would go for. “What if I tried to dream-walk to her first? See if I can either find her in the past or talk to her before we decide to make any quick decision to escape Hell again?”
His silence was my answer.
“And maybe we’ll figure out she escaped or is safe after we killed Lilith,” I added.
Nope.
Fine. “The last time we left Hell without a plan and direction, my mom died. Now her soul has two months until she ceases to exist. I can’t lose anyone else, Oli.”
His face paled. “You didn’t mention that earlier.”
I shrugged, faking my nonchalance. “Hurt to tell. Because it’s my fault.”
Oliver squeezed me super tight, and I willed that stupid, useless lump in my throat away. “We know whose fault it is. And one day you’ll make him pay, Lucy.”
“Until then, I’ll try to find your sister.”
He nodded, and we fell silent.
Cato would teach me everything he knew. I’d find Oliver’s sister, save my mom, and everything would be okay.