Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
DARBY
Akiss on the forehead was usually a pleasant way to be woken from sleep.
When the kiss didn’t come from a crow.
“Ow.” Darby’s voice was hoarse and resembled the croak of a frog more than a human sound.
She forced her eyes open, blinking several times to get the bleary images in front of her to focus.
Raven’s head was upside down, the offending beak still hovering over her forehead from his perch at the head of the bed.
“Good Raven.” He tilted his head, his beady eyes bright and curious.
“Yes, you’re a good Raven.” The warm bed beckoned her back into its embrace, and she closed her eyes.
The sunlight peeking through the curtains in her room indicated an afternoon hour, but she had no idea what day it was or how long had passed since the events of Dr. Fransten’s laboratory.
“I suppose you still wouldn’t be able to turn into a carrier pigeon and bring me back some coffee? ”
“He can’t, but I will.”
Darby’s eyes flew open again. In her sleep-addled state, she had missed Fitz’s form sitting in the chair that had been dragged to her bedside.
He leaned forward, resting one elbow on the mattress beside her and gently brushing her hair from her face, trailing his thumb down the side of her jaw.
His smile was warm and soft, and a delicious, bubbly feeling spread through Darby’s chest.
It almost feels like magic, but…better.
“Captain.” She returned his smile. Raven fluttered off to the other side of the room.
He raised an eyebrow. “Doctor. I didn’t realize we were going back to such formal titles.”
“I felt it was necessary, given that I don’t know exactly how things stand between us.” She had vague memories of precious words being whispered near her ear, but whether they were a dream or a reality she wasn’t sure.
“I see.” Fitz’s face became solemn, and he moved his hand from her face to the mattress, where he interlaced the fingers of their right hands. “And how would you like us to stand?”
“Well, for one, I would like to call you Fitz.”
“Done. And may I call you Darby?” One corner of his mouth twitched in amusement, and all Darby wanted to do was grab his shirt and pull him down so she could kiss the grin into existence.
“Yes.”
“What else, Darby?”
She opened her mouth to speak, then hesitated.
What if he didn’t actually say it? What if I say it again and I make things awkward? What if he doesn’t love me like that?
Fitz squeezed her hand, and the warm, patient look in his eyes helped her to summon every ounce of courage that she possessed.
“I want to tell you—now, while I’m not actively dying—that I love you, and I…IwantyoutokissmebeforeIdie.” She said the last words in a rush, avoiding his eyes as her cheeks heated in a blush. “I know I’m not perfect and we’ll drive each other crazy sometimes, and—”
He tugged her hand toward him, cutting her off. “Darby, look at me.”
She cautiously lifted her eyes to his, which were shining with so much love and adoration that it made her breathless.
“I love you, Darby.” He squeezed her hand. “And I’ve been waiting to kiss you for days.”
She grinned stupidly at him. “Really?”
“Really.” He leaned closer, and her eyes slowly closed.
“Clerval’s delivery service!” Henry’s voice boomed from the direction of the door.
Darby’s eyes flew open, and she glared at him while Fitz pulled away, settling back into his chair with a chuckle.
Henry smiled beatifically, the mischievous gleam in his eyes telling her he knew exactly what he had just interrupted. The steaming mug in his hand earned him a little forgiveness, though.
But only just a little.
She pushed herself back to lean against the headboard, then froze.
Her mind had been so focused on Fitz and the state of her heart that she had forgotten all about her hand.
The pain had become such a constant companion as she drifted in and out of consciousness in the aftermath of Fransten’s schemes that at some point she had begun instinctively pulling her magic in to numb it, to the point that the injury was pushed from her mind.
A metal hand, quite a bit rougher and less aesthetic than Fitz’s, was splayed beside her leg.
She lifted her arm, watching in fascination as the fingers moved as she directed.
She touched the cold metal of the palm, noting with a scholarly curiosity the way her eyes and mind interpreted the action, telling her that she felt something when logically she knew there were no nerve endings to register sensation.
“How…?” She looked from Fitz to Henry. Her eyes watered with emotion.
Henry, misinterpreting her tears, hurriedly set the mug on the bedside table and sat on the edge of her mattress. “I know it’s not up to the same level of quality as your captain’s, but I was short on time and materials.”
Darby shook her head and wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist. “It’s perfect. I can’t believe you were willing to give me a hand.”
He held his hand to his heart in mock offense. “I’m going to choose not to be hurt that you think me incapable of doing anything nice for you other than supplying you with…” His words trailed off as his eyes narrowed. “That was another one of your jokes, wasn’t it?”
Watery laughter burst out of her, and she leaned forward, ignoring the ache in her lower belly and calf, and threw her arms around Henry’s neck. His arms wrapped tightly around her, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.
Finally, Darby released him and settled back against the headboard. She reached for her mug, pausing when the smell of chocolate and coffee reached her nose.
“Poison-free,” Henry confirmed, as if reading her thoughts. “I had a new shipment delivered just for you.”
She smiled and sipped the drink, savoring the sweet warmth as it traveled down her throat. “How did you know I needed this?”
“Raven came down and told me to ‘make it work.’ I figured if he was willing to finally leave your bedside, you must have woken up. And I knew if you were awake, you would want coffee.”
Darby smiled at the crow, who had taken up residence on top of the curtain rod. “He’s a good Raven.”
He cawed happily. “Good Raven. Make it work.”
“If it weren’t for Raven, I don’t think we would have found you.” Fitz was looking at the bird, shaking his head slowly.
“What do you mean?”
“When you disappeared from the hospital, none of us knew where to look. We didn’t know where you could have gone, much less who could have taken you.
Lacey was already accounted for, and no one was looking for Fransten because he had told some of the nursing staff that he was stepping out for the afternoon.
Raven must have seen him take you from the back doors, because he wouldn’t stop pestering us until we followed him.
Robertson thought we were crazy—I thought we were crazy—until we heard you scream. ”
Darby shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut and doing her best to lock away the gruesome memories. A sudden thought struck her, and she opened her eyes again. “What happened to Fransten? Is he dead?”
Fitz’s expression darkened. His jaw was tight, and he squeezed both hands into fists.
“Unfortunately, no, though he likely had a nasty headache when he woke up. Robertson volunteered to stay with him while we moved you to safety. He’s apparently got some friends on the police force, and he knew the right people to call. ”
She let out a long exhale. “But he’s been arrested?”
Fitz grabbed her hand. “I think it’s safe to say he won’t be seeing anything but the inside of a jail cell for the rest of his life. He certainly won’t be able to practice medicine.”
The comment struck something deep and painful in Darby’s chest. She looked down at her hand. “Neither will I.”
The reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks, the tears started spilling before she could blink them away. Fitz shifted closer, pulling her to his chest and wrapping his arms around her. He pressed a shaky kiss to her temple. “I’m so sorry, Darby. I’m sorry I didn’t get to you faster.”
She took a shuddering breath to compose herself. “It’s alright,” she tried bravely. “There’s more to life than medicine. I just have to find it. Besides.” She leaned back just far enough to hold up her hand between them. “Now we match.”
He chuckled, holding his metal hand up to her own, aligning their fingertips. “So we do. We’ll figure it out, Darby.”
Darby examined their hands, comparing the mechanics now that they were side-by-side. “Did you use the same plans?” she asked Henry.
“I did. Raven brought them out from wherever he had stowed them away. I tried to follow them as well as I could, but your penmanship could really use some work.”
That pulled a laugh from her. Darby dried her cheeks. “Merry?”
“He’s staying with Robertson for now,” Fitz answered.
“They’re an odd pairing—like a grumpy old guard dog and an exuberant puppy—but they seemed to have hit it off.
Robertson still has military connections, and they were very interested to hear about Merry’s unique skills and granted him an extended leave, on the condition that he apply to the Academy in the spring and return to active duty upon the completion of his studies.
He said you were going to write him a letter of recommendation? ”
Darby nodded. “He wanted one from you as well, but I didn’t want to promise it before I talked to you about it. And then the break-in happened and, well…it rather slipped my mind. But you’ll write one for him?”
Fitz pulled her closer, resting his chin on her head. The steady ticking of his heart under her ear was reassuring, and she slipped her arms around his waist, eliminating any extra space between them.
“He saved you. I’ll write him as many letters as he wants.”
“Add me to that list, if the word of a coffeehouse owner means anything.” Henry patted her leg before rising.
Darby angled her face to give him a smile. “If it doesn’t, it should. The Academy wouldn’t produce even half the graduates it does without the support of coffee.”
He chuckled as he collected her empty dishes and slipped out of the room, leaving them both alone.
They were quiet for a moment, and Darby allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of Fitz’s arms around her, holding her like she was something cherished that he wanted to protect.
“I love you,” she whispered contentedly.
“I love you.” He pulled back, hooking a finger underneath her chin and tilting it up to look into her eyes. “Though now that I think about it, it does seem rather suspicious.”
“What do you mean?”
“You were the one who built this heart. How do I know that you didn’t fashion it intentionally to beat only for you?”
With a gasp of offense, she pulled her arms from his waist and attempted to shove him away. He captured her hands and held them between them.
Darby settled for furrowing her eyebrows. “I put your heart back in exactly as attached as I found it.”
“I know,” he whispered, kissing her temple. “And I’m giving it back to you. You built it; you better keep it.”
She melted into him. “You promised to kiss me before I died.”
“So I did.”
He pressed another light kiss to her other temple, the tip of her nose, the base of her jaw, the corner of her mouth.
“Fitz,” she whined, breathless. “I’m dying here.”
His lips smiled against her own. “I better it do it now, then, before it’s too late.”
She sighed, blissfully happy as his lips finally captured hers. She barely even registered Raven’s approving caw.
“Make it work.”