Her rattling teeth prevented her from replying, but the shower said enough: The other female appeared in the doorway, and then ventured further into the bath, until she pulled back the cloth curtain and knelt down so they were eye-to-eye.
“How’re you feeling?”
Abruptly, Autumn had to shield her face as she began crying.
Hard to know whether the outburst was because the needing had finally passed, or because she was so tired she had no boundaries left… or because the last thing she remembered before everything became a blur was the sight of Tohr driving those two needles into his thighs and falling to the floor.
“Autumn, can you hear me?”
“Yes…” she croaked.
“I’d like to get you back in bed if you’re done washing up. There’s a lot of heat in here, and I’m worried about your blood pressure.”
“I’m c-c-cold.”
“That’s fever chills. I’m going to turn off the water now, okay?”
She nodded, because she didn’t have the wherewithal to do anything else.
When the warm rain stopped falling, the rattling inside her skin got worse as the cold rushed in and traveled across her tender flesh. Soon enough, however, a soft blanket was draped around her shoulders.
“Can you stand?” When Autumn nodded again, she was helped up, dressed in a light sheath and escorted back over to the bed—which had magically been remade with fresh sheets and blankets.
Stretching out, she was aware only of the tears that seeped from the corners of both eyes, an endless, slow stream of them, hot against her cold face.
“Shhh, you’re okay,” the healer said, as she sat down on the edge of the mattress. “You’re all right—it’s over.…”
As a gentle hand stroked her wet hair back, the tone of Doc Jane’s voice, more than the female’s actual words, helped the most.
And then there was a straw sticking out of a soda can, brought close to her mouth.
One draw of that cold, sweet nectar and Autumn’s eyes rolled back into her head. “Oh… blessed Virgin Scribe… what is that?”
“Ginger ale. And you’re welcome—hey, not too fast.”
After she’d finished the whole lot of it, she lay back again as a band was shuffled onto her arm and puffed up before being deflated. Next, a cold disk was pressed to her chest in a couple of places. A light was flashed in her eyes.
“May I have some more ginger ale, please?” she asked.
“Your wish is my command.”
The healer did one better than that, returning not only with another chilly tin can and a straw, but some plain crackers that tasted like absolutely nothing and were total heaven in her belly.
She was making quick work of the sustenance when she realized the healer had sat down in a chair and was saying nothing.
Autumn stopped eating. “Do you not have any other patients?”
“Just one, and she was fine when she got here.”
“Oh.” Autumn picked up another of the crackers. “What are these called?”
“Saltines. Of all the drugs I dispense down here, sometimes there’s nothing better.”
“They’re wonderful.” She put the flaky, dusty square in her mouth and bit down. As a silence persisted, she said, “You want to know why I refused the drugs.”
“It’s none of my business. But I do think you need to talk to someone about it.”
“A professional of some order?”
“Yeah.”
“There is nothing wrong with letting nature take its course.” Autumn glanced over. “But I begged you not to get him. I told you not to call him.”
“I had no choice.”
Tears threatened, but she forced them away. “I didn’t want him to see me like that. Wellsie—”
“What about her.”
Autumn jerked around in surprise, rattling the crackers, splashing soda out over her hand. In the doorway, Tohrment loomed, a great dark shadow that filled the jambs.
Doc Jane rose up. “I’ll just go check on Layla again. Your vitals are good, and I’ll bring a proper meal back with me when I come.”
And then they were alone.
He didn’t approach the bed, but stayed by the door, settling back against the wall. With his brows down tight and his arms linked over his chest, he was self-contained and explosive at the same time.
“What the hell was that all about,” he said harshly.
Autumn put the crackers and the can aside, then busied herself folding and unfolding the edge of the blanket.
“I asked you a question.”
Autumn cleared her throat. “I told Doc Jane not to summon you—”
“Did you think if you suffered I’d come and help you out?”
“Not at all—”
“You sure about that? Because what did you think Jane was going to do when you refused to be treated?”
“If you don’t believe me, ask the healer. I instructed her specifically not to call upon you. I knew that that would be too much for you—how could it not be after—”
“This is not about my shellan. This has nothing to do with her.”
“I’m not so sure about that—”
“Trust me.”
After that, he didn’t say anything else. He just stood there with that tense body and those hard eyes, staring at her as if he had never seen her before.
“Where are your thoughts?” she asked quietly.
He shook his head from side to side. “You don’t want to know.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I think I’ve been fooling myself all these months.”
As she felt the shivering from the shower return, she knew the cause was not a temperature imbalance in her bones. Not anymore. “How so.”
“Now isn’t the time for this.”
As he turned to go, she had the very clear sense that she was not going to see him again. Ever.
“Tohr,” she said in a rough voice. “There was no manipulation on my part—you need to believe that. I didn’t want you to service me—I would never put you through that.”
After a moment, he looked over his shoulder, his eyes dead. “You know what? Fuck all that. It’s almost worse that you didn’t want me in here with you. Because the other option is that you’re mentally ill.”
“I beg your pardon.” Autumn frowned. “And I am utterly sane.”
“No, you’re not. If you were, you wouldn’t have chosen to put yourself through that—”
“I just didn’t want the drugs. Your extrapolation is extreme—”
“Oh, yeah? Well, brace yourself, you’re really not going to like my next conclusion. I’m beginning to think you’re with me to punish yourself.”
She recoiled so sharply, her neck cracked again. “I most certainly am not—”
“What better way to steep yourself in misery than to be with a male who loves someone else.”
“That is not why I’m with you.”
“How would you know, Autumn. You’ve been making a martyr out of yourself for centuries. You’ve been a servant, a maid, a laundress—and you’ve been fucking me for the last few months—which brings us back to my point about clinical insanity—”
“How dare you judge my inner convictions,” she hissed. “You know nothing of what I think or feel!”
“Bullshit. You’re in love with me.” He pivoted to face her and put up his palm to stop her commenting. “Don’t bother denying it—you tell me in your sleep every day. So let’s build a case. You clearly like to punish yourself. And you know damn well the only reason I’m with you is to get Wellsie out of the In Between. So don’t I just fit your pattern to a T—”
“Get out,” she snapped. “Get out of here.”
“What—you don’t want me to stay so you can make it hurt so good some more?”
“You bastard.”
“You got that right. I’ve been using you, and the only person it’s working for is you—God knows it’s gotten me nowhere. The good news is that this whole thing”—he gestured back and forth between them—“is going to give you a terrific excuse to torture yourself even longer— Oh, don’t bother with the denials. That symphath was your fault. I’m your fault. The weight of the world is all your fault, because you enjoy being the victim—”