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Page 5


  He shook his head. “Ellie, listen to me. I’m going to come back to see you. Every visiting day. I get what you were saying. I asked my family not to come here to see me either, but I want to come. Okay? It’ll be fine. And you are going to get out and then…”

  She shook her head. “And then what? We’ll be best friends outside these walls. I live on the other side of the country. You will have a life. I will have my version of one and… we have nothing in common except here which, trust me, no one wants to talk about out there.”

  “I highly doubt that.” He used what she’d come to think of as his professor voice. It was when he expected her to listen to what he said. Eat the eggs. Don’t tick off the doctor…

  The thing about the blackness was when it overtook her she never knew it was coming. In one of her institutions, they’d suggested she try to focus on exactly what happened to her physically before the incidents happened, before she was lost in her own mind. Did her fingers tingle? No. Did she feel dizzy or hungry? No. Nothing. There was never anything.

  And that was the problem. There was no spell to stop it from happening, no one who could help her. Sometimes she was happy right before, sometimes sad. Sometimes she was brushing her teeth. It didn’t matter.

  The darkness came. She didn’t hear or feel anything. Simple nothingness.

  Until it was over and it was only after it was over that she could even think that much.

  Since nothing was just that… nothing.

  Eleanor came to in her bed. She was hooked up, as usual, to a magical monitor that kept track of her vitals. According to numerous confused experts, they were always fine. Her mouth was dry. That usually meant someone had tried some magic that didn’t work. Either to stop her display during the events or to rouse her once she collapsed into catatonia.

  A nurse stood over her. She’d never met the woman before, which meant she was on a different floor now. One where they put people when they were sick physically, not just in need of emotional or mental support.

  “Hi,” she addressed the woman, who jumped before she turned around. Pity swept through Eleanor. She terrified people all the time. It was better to focus on how hard that must be for others than to really let go into the self-loathing that came with being so flippin’ sick of this mess.

  “Hello.” The nurse ran a hand over the back of her own neck. “How are you?”

  It must have been a heck of a display she’d given these people if this woman was so nervous. “I feel fine, thanks. How long?”

  The woman didn’t pretend to misunderstand her. “Three days since the onset. Twenty-four hours since you stopped communicating at all.”

  So that was two full days of raving in unintelligible language. She’d seen a recording of herself. She yelled gibberish. Spun in circles. Pulled at her clothes. Hurt people when they tried to help her. Her eyes were bright red.

  She sat up slowly. “May I have some water, please?”

  The more polite she remained the quicker she could get this woman to relax, and then she could get on with her life. The doctors would want to do some round up. Or not. It would depend on how violent she had become. “Was anyone hurt?”

  “The doctors magically restrained you, but you did give another patient a black eye when he tried to intervene.”

  Eleanor almost didn’t ask who. But that would be cowardly. “That would be Mitchell Sharpe, right? I hit him.”

  The nurse smiled. “You did. Don’t worry though. He’s no longer a patient here so it’ll be like the whole thing never happened.”

  She nodded. Well, at least he would finally understand. She looked away from the other occupant of the room and rolled over. She never wanted to hurt anyone. Not ever. He would finally get what she’d been trying to explain. There was a difference between needing help and support to get over something—to need magical interference to reset your brain after a hex—and just being made wrong.

  That’s all she was. Maybe there were others whose half and half situation didn’t leave them this kind of a mess. But when the genes had been given out, hers hadn’t cooperated.

  She closed her eyes. “Please apologize to anyone who saw it from me and thank all involved. I never wanted to be any kind of trouble.”

  The nurse touched her shoulder gently. “Is there anything I can get you?”

  “Water, when you can. Otherwise, the best thing to do is just leave me alone. Leave me to it.” This was her life.

  Mitchell was gone, and she’d bet molasses he was glad to be.

  “Eleanor.” Dr. Ruttan was trying so hard. She sipped her ginger ale. It really was nice how he always brought her a ginger ale when he came in. No one else had ever done that before. “You’ve had a visitor every Tuesday for the last four weeks. Now, the first two you were in no condition to see anyone. I explained that to him, but he insisted on coming. Last week and today I’ve respected your wish to be alone, but he is still sitting out there, and I think perhaps it might be good for you to see him.”

  Well, this was news to her. “My grandfather?”

  He’d been her one and only visitor in all the years she’d lived in these places. Eventually, he’d given up coming. Why had he journeyed to the other side of the continent now? Had something happened to her grandmother? Was he going back and forth?

  “No. Mitchell Sharpe.”

  She choked, the ginger ale spilling all over her black shirt. “What?”

  He had come four times? Why? She sighed. She’d punched him in the eye, and she owed him an apology. Plus, this was Mitchell. He’d told her he would come, and he was a man of his word. He would come to prove he’d meant it. She was going to have to let him out of his obligation.

  “He really wants to see you. Now, I can bar him from ever seeing you if you’d like that. No one ever has to see anyone, and our conversations lately over your desire for peace and alone time are concerning, but not surprising. I think it might be best for him to stop coming if you’re never going to see him.”

  She rubbed at her eyes. She did want to be alone, and the doctor had started to see her point. With what her grandparents paid for this place, they could put her in a cabin somewhere with a constant babysitter who had enough power to take her down if she got violent. Then she could, at least, be left alone to walk through the woods, finish school remotely, and eat and drink as she saw fit without bothering others. Since she wasn’t going to get better.

  “I’ll see him. To apologize. To make him understand he doesn’t have to come here. And to get on with it.”

  Ruttan whisked the wet stain on her shirt away. He didn’t even have to blink. It must be so nice to have that much power.

  She rose. Nothing got better by ignoring it. If Mitchell was out there, then she’d see him, and she’d say goodbye.

  He looked exactly as she’d expected him to, stunningly gorgeous. No longer dressed in institute clothing, he wore a white blazer over a white collared shirt that he hadn’t fastened the last button on, displaying some of his neck. She could see a smattering of dark hair poking up but forced herself not to notice. He’d paired this with khaki pants and dark shoes and socks. All of it was delicious, rich, and untouchable. She understood the rich part. Her family had never hurt in the money department, and although they were horrified she was half human, her grandparents had never denied her anything.

  In her closet in their home were more clothes than she’d ever wear from every major designer. Her grandmother would periodically refill it, like doing so would somehow mean she would wear the clothes, someday. As if their existence could make it happen.

  He’d gained some weight. It wasn’t that they didn’t feed the residents well, but it wasn’t like they got a choice on what was on the menu. He’d gotten to eat his favorite foods, gained some muscle too from exercise, she would bet.

  She sat down across from him. There was a magical barrier that would keep him from touching her and vice versa. Now that she’d been violent, she had a whole no touching rule
that hadn’t been there before.

  “Have you ever asked yourself,” she said, putting on her best fake smile. “Why they have servers? Why not just spell the food service here, do you suppose?”

  He didn’t smile at her, and even though she’d always been able to read him, she couldn’t make out what the heat in his gaze meant.

  “There are so many people here whose power have been taken away. They can’t count on residents being able to do that.”

  Well, yes. That was an obvious answer. She tapped on her head. “Thanks. I’d never worked that out Sheesh.”

  Whatever black eye she’d given him was gone. That had probably been spelled away immediately.

  “Have you not been eating anything, Ellie? You’ve lost ten pounds, and you didn’t have it to spare.”

  Her clothes were big on her. That could happen sometimes. She’d ask them to spell her some new clothes so it would be less obvious. Not that it mattered, really.

  “I haven’t had much of an appetite.” Okay, they were going to get right into this. “Mitchell, I…”

  He interrupted her again. “You’re too pale. Have you not been outside?”

  She sighed. “No more walks for me. I’m not on the main floor anymore. The violent offenders are downstairs. I’m there.”

  He leaned forward. “Violent offender?”

  “I hurt you. That’s what they tell me. I don’t remember. But that doesn’t negate the fact that I did it, so please allow me to apologize. That’s really why I came out here today. To say I am so truly sorry. I never want to hurt anyone, ever. Particularly you, who was my friend.” She didn’t expect the tears but that didn’t stop them from coming. She wiped at her cheeks. “I am so sorry. Please forgive me.”

  He reached forward, hitting the invisible barrier and then stared at his hand like he was confused. “What the hell?”

  She sat back, wiping away the rest of her tears. “Um, violent offenders can’t be touched.”

  “This is bullshit. You barely got me and that was my own stupid fault. I told them that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck me, I’ll talk to your doctors.”

  “You can’t. I mean, you’re not family, and you’re not in here anymore.”

  He pointed at me. “They will speak to me. Trust me on that. There are benefits to being a Sharpe.”

  She laughed and then sighed. “Spoken from the privilege of being one, I suppose. Anyway, I came to apologize, and you lived up to your promise to come. Time to go. You don’t have to do this again, Mitchell.”

  “I didn’t come out of obligation. I came because I had to see that you were okay. And I had to ask you at what point you learned to speak ancient Alurmic. I mean, it’s a dead language. There are only two people on the planet who can speak it, and I only knew every tenth word, but that’s what it was. That’s what you were speaking in when you went under.”

  She didn’t understand. “Mitchell, someone once referred to it as speaking in tongues, but the truth is that I’m not saying anything. It’s nonsense.”

  “It’s ancient Alurmic. I promise you. It is.”

  He seemed so sure. “I don’t speak it. I’m not one of those people who does. I’ve seen ancient places, even Alurmic places. But no, I don’t speak it. So that has to be a coincidence.”

  He touched the barrier again. “Does it? Ellie, where were you when your mom died?”

  “I told you, I have little memory. I was somewhere in central Europe. That’s where I was found.”

  He tapped on the table. This much fidgeting didn’t seem like Mitchell. He was usually so controlled. “Okay. There is something going on with you, and I don’t think… Okay, listen. Trust me? Can you do that? I’m going to be back next week and then we’ll…”

  The door to the visiting room banged open. A man, the tallest, blondest man she’d ever seen, came in. His hair was practically white. Eleanor had that thought an instant before a gush of magic hit her square in the center of her body. She was flung into the air. He chanted something, and she screamed as her head felt like it was going to be cracked open.

  Mitchell rushed forward. He couldn’t touch her thanks to the barrier, but there was nothing keeping him from Blondie, who was hurting her. He jolted the man with so much power the heat from the surge hit Eleanor square in the face. She hit the ground. Yells reverberated around the room as security rushed in, power flying everywhere.

  After a second, Mitchell grabbed onto her. With the mess happening, perhaps the barrier had been taken down. She didn’t know, didn’t care. He could touch her so she clung to him, shaking. Weird things happened, and they kept happening to her. The ache in her head lessened with his touch, and the way that he held her. He said small things, little noises. The word safe was spoken, a lot. She tried to breathe. There were power exchanges happening all around them and she buried her head against his chest. His heart beat. That was real. She was safe. When she could speak, she did.

  “What just happened?”

  “I don’t know. But that was an ancient language, too.”

  The blond man ran from the room, vanishing mid-stride like he’d never been there.

  “I hurt.” She couldn’t think of a more articulate way to say it, and she didn’t mean from the assault. “And I hurt everyone around me. Maybe they should take my magic. There isn’t much of it, but they can have it. Then I can’t hurt anyone worse than I did you that day. And I am so sorry about it.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “If you apologize to me one more time I am going to yell at you. There is nothing to be sorry for. It’s not like you did it on purpose, and it was practically nothing. I’ve missed you, Eleanor. Don’t lose your magic. Not yet, anyway. Trust me a little bit. I have an inkling about something. This is how I solve problems. I can feel it. I know I can help you.”

  “I missed you, too. But you shouldn’t come back here.”

  “Like your apology, if you tell me not to come one more time, I’m going to yell at you. I’ve cataloged your opinion. On this subject, I am uninterested in it. You were right. Being outside did give me fresh perspective.”

  She lifted her head. The noise in the room was cooling down. The nurses would be around to check her soon. “What’s that?”

  “I had one big thing happen to me, to knock me down. But I’m Mitchell Sharpe, and nine times out of ten I get what I want. I don’t force it, I just figure out how to have it. I want to visit you. I’m going to keep coming. Got it?”

  She stared up at him. “How is it that you’re even hotter now than you were when you were in here? I mean seriously sexy, Mitchell.”

  He groaned. “Frustrating woman.”

  A nurse ran over and checked her vitals, spelling her until she could sit up without help. Eleanor ignored her to continue speaking to him. “I mean, did they teach sexy with one of your four degrees?”

  His cheeks reddened. “She’s going to be fine. I want to speak to her doctor. She is no more a violent offender than anyone else and what in the hell is going on with security? Violent offenders? One just rushed through your door and attacked your patient.”

  “Yes, Dr. Sharpe.”

  Eleanor blinked. Oh, that was right. He would be a doctor. Not a medical one, but a professor. They were doctors. They’d been calling him mister in here but that wasn’t accurate. Her glaring lack of education, which maybe should have been the least of her problems at the moment, smacked her in the face. Why did she care so much about this?

  The nurse continued. “I can get the head of security for you, but I’m afraid I can’t let you speak to her doctor as you’re not family.”

  “As I was the person who was allegedly violently offended upon I think I have a right to speak to him.”

  During the exchange, two orderlies arrived, and she was magically lifted into the air. They’d take her to check her out. “So I don’t suppose you’d not come again?”

  “The day you tell me you don’t want my friendship and to leave you alone, I will co
mply. But to not come because you think there’s some sort discrepancy in power between the two of us now that I’m out? Sorry, you’re stuck with me for a while yet, Ellie.”

  She grinned. “I’ve never had a nickname. Hey, did they give you your job back?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  Eleanor pointed at him. “Told you so.”

  “Ms. St. Vincent.” Dr. Ruttan came in, interrupting Eleanor’s contemplation of the ceiling.

  She rolled to her side. “Dr. Ruttan? This is an unusual time of day to see you.”

  He looked tired, and he slumped down in his usual chair. “You’re going to be leaving us.”

  She jerked up in the bed. “Where are you sending me? Is it one of those places with bars on the windows? I’ll stay here. I won’t bother anyone. Even when I have my next incident, I won’t hurt anyone if you leave me in here.”

  He shook his head. “No, nothing like that. News of what happened today has reached the outside world. Your grandparents are very upset, and they’re removing you from us. They are allowed to, as you are not seen to be fit to make decisions due to your condition. They’re bringing you home from what I understand.” He leaned forward. “Eleanor, right before you succumbed to the fugue state you were starting to trust me. I think I could have helped you. If there ever is a chance for you to tell someone—anyone you can believe in—what happened to you that you have never spoken about, I’d like to highly encourage you to do so. You have to open the door for the magic to flow in. Sometimes you have to say yes to it.”

  She was going home? Eleanor swallowed her anxiety. The institutes had fewer rules than her grandparents’ home.

  Chapter 5

  Her mother had once described her parents’ home as hell dressed up like heaven. There was never a time that Eleanor returned to it that she didn’t immediately remember her mother’s description.

  Never tell, Eleanor.

  For once, she was getting tired of the constant refrain, and she shoved it from her mind. She was certainly not going to tell anyone here. She never had. The day had been long. She’d woken in the morning, hours earlier than they usually did at Prestige, and she’d been hustled through the long hallways. She’d been driven in a human car by Dr. Ruttan himself to the train station where she was deposited on an off-duty police officer for the trip. The train had been magically spelled to move across country at super speeds, and in a few hours, she’d arrived at home.

 

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