There weren’t enough painkillers in the world to make a post-assignment berating from Abraham Holtzman bearable. The fact that Alaric wasn’t on any because he didn’t like how fuzzy they made his head feel made this even worse.
“So I was just supposed to let her lie there?” he’d demanded. “With a possible concussion, or worse? She’d just gotten thrown across the room by a dragon!”
“Lucien Dracula was never going to hurt that girl.” Holtzman obviously wasn’t feeling too swell himself. He’d lost the first layer of skin on his hands and face. He looked incredibly comical without his eyebrows.
But of course, Alaric couldn’t say anything about that. Though he did plan on taking a couple of cell phone photos of it, just as soon as he got the chance, and sending them to Martin, for laughs.
“You knew that,” Holtzman said. “You ran after her instead of doing your job, because you’re sweet on her. I have grave reservations about Miss Harper and this idea of yours of hiring her to work for us. I think it will only lead to disaster. Especially since Lucien Dracula is still at large and obviously in love with her himself.”
“I’m not sweet on her.” Alaric had never in his life heard anything so ridiculous. But a part of him wondered, Is it that obvious? “But if you can’t see the advantages of having someone who-”
“Oh, I see the advantages.” Holtzman took out his handkerchief and dabbed at a spot where one of his burns was oozing. Alaric looked away. Although he didn’t suppose he looked much better himself. How he hated hospitals! “And, unfortunately, so do our superiors, since they’ve already put through the appropriate paperwork to start a special task unit here in Manhattan, with myself in charge.” He added glumly, “They want you on it as well.”
Alaric, surprised, tried not to show how happy this information made him. Except for the part about Holtzman being in charge, of course.
“I, of course, informed them that Miss Harper isn’t the only one about whom I have grave reservations.” Holtzman folded his handkerchief and put it away, fixing Alaric with an eagle-eyed stare. “I saw your behavior in the field last week, and I found it far from acceptable. If you want to be part of this new unit, you’ll first have to take that mandatory two weeks’ psychological R and R you never took after Berlin.” Looking down at Alaric’s leg, Holtzman grunted, then added, “Well, I suppose you’ll have to do that in any case. But you’re getting counseling as well. Agreed?”
Alaric frowned. He could think of nothing worse than having to sit in the office of some talking head, discussing his feelings.
But if it meant seeing more of Meena Harper…
“Fine,” Alaric said from between gritted teeth.
“Excellent. That’s what I like to hear. You really shouldn’t be so resistant to these policies, Alaric, they’re in place for your benefit. Though this doesn’t mean, of course, that I’m not going to be watching how you conduct yourself around Miss Harper closely. Although,” Holtzman added, “she hasn’t said yet whether or not she’s going to take the job.”
Alaric nearly bolted from the bed in surprise, even though he was practically attached to it by a complicated assortment of wires. “What?” he burst out. “Why the hell not? Didn’t you offer her-”
“Oh, calm down,” Holtzman said sourly. “We offered her a completely adequate package.”
“Adequate?” Alaric wanted to throw something. But the only thing near enough was the television remote. He’d thrown that so many times already, the nurses had threatened not to bring it back if he threw it once more. “She’s-”
“She’s a psychic,” Abraham reminded him. “It’s not like she’d be out there risking her life in the field. The package we offered was reflective of that. It includes full benefits and is actually very generous, if you ask me. I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t take it, especially in this job market. Who wouldn’t want to come work for the Palatine?”
“Someone,” Alaric said, a little bitterly, from his hospital bed, “who’s in love with the prince of darkness.”
Now, just remembering the conversation with Holtzman, he wanted to throw something all over again.
At least until Meena Harper herself surprised him by walking into his hospital room.
And him wearing a hospital gown. This was just perfect.
“Hello,” she said. Her left arm was in an air cast from elbow to wrist. In her right hand, she carried a vase filled with daisies.
Alaric had never given much thought to flowers before. In fact, he’d always thought flowers were stupid.
Until now. Now daisies were his favorite.
“Hello,” he said.
Except for the air cast, Meena Harper looked good. He would have gone so far as to say that Meena Harper looked great. The bite mark on her neck was almost completely faded. She had on some new clothes-well, of course. Because the last time he’d seen her, she’d been covered in blood.
His blood.
She was wearing a dress. It was short and black, and a little tight in the chest.
He liked it very much.
She put the daisies on the windowsill. It was raining outside, and the flowers brightened up the room a little.
Which was a miracle. He hadn’t thought anything could brighten up that hospital room.
But now he knew. Daisies could. Daisies, and Meena Harper.
“I was just here visiting my friend Leisha,” she said, sitting down in the pink vinyl chair by his bed. Pink! Vinyl. The chair was a disaster. Except when Meena Harper sat down in it while wearing the short black dress. Because then he could see a lot of her bare legs. So, perhaps the chair was not such a disaster after all. “She had a baby girl. It’s a little premature, but they’re both going to be fine. Leisha’s so happy. She doesn’t seem to remember what happened at the church. Or outside my apartment. Adam says not to tell her. He thinks it’s for the best.”
“He’s probably right,” Alaric said, carefully.
“True,” she said, with a shrug. “Adam says he wishes he could forget it. He and Jon are installing the baby room right now. Otherwise, the baby will have to sleep in a drawer.”
“Oh,” Alaric said. He didn’t know anything about babies. Except Martin’s daughter, Simone, who had been a baby once. Alaric had thought Martin was crazy for wanting a baby. He tried to sound supportive, though, just like he had around Martin, because he knew that’s how people were supposed to be about babies. “That’s good.”
“They’re calling her Joan,” Meena said. “Joanie.” She was looking all around the room…everywhere but at Alaric.
This, he decided, was definitely awkward.
Especially because, like Meena’s friend Leisha, Alaric didn’t remember what had happened at the church, either. At least, not everything. He knew he’d said some things to her when the two of them had been alone together after the choir loft had collapsed.
He just couldn’t remember what those things had been.
This, a doctor had told him when he’d asked her about it, was not unusual. It was because of the blood loss, she’d said. He needn’t worry about it.
But Alaric did worry about it. What had he said?
He hoped he hadn’t blurted out anything inappropriate. Such as his feelings for Meena Harper. That wouldn’t be good at all. He didn’t need her knowing how he felt about her. Not if she was going to come work with him at the Palatine. How was that going to work? How was he going to be able to work his subtle Alaric Wulf magic on her if she already knew how he felt about her?
Then the magic wouldn’t be subtle at all. It would be the furthest thing from subtle.
And then the magic wouldn’t work. He was already competing with the prince of darkness. What the hell else did he have but his special Alaric Wulf magic?
But maybe he hadn’t said anything about liking her.