Page 44 of Bright Soul

Bianca and Grace weren’t all that interested in watching, while I faded in and out of their conversation and the stream, distracted. “Why a Medusa head?” Bianca was asking of the pin the two unnatural hunters wore.

“It’s not Medusa,” Tish practically squeaked. Her whole expression lit up from the question. “The Furies also had snakes for hair.”

“That’s the name of our group within Chaos Inc.,” Grace supplied.

“Because we’re harbingers ofvengeanceanddeathfor the wicked.” Tish seemed entirely too small to be a harbinger of anything. “Grace is like Alecto, an unyielding hunter of criminals.”

“Unnaturals,” Grace added in her rough purr, barely getting the word in edgewise.

“While I’m Tisiphone—”

“Literally her name,” said her partner. Tish wrinkled her nose and gave Grace a shove, not like she could budge the more muscular shifter. “Word to the wise, don’t ask Tish about Greek mythology unless you have a couple hours to spare. She was raised reciting the myths and shit.”

“Weren’t there three Furies?” I put in.

Tish nodded. “We’re still waiting to meet our Megaera, punisher of oathbreakers.”

She opened a window over the stream playing on her laptop and started showing us her art pages. Most of her style was rather cutesy, but it was all about putting a modern spin on Greek myths. She’d drawn the Fury head that they wore, with its snarl and spitting snakes.

We spent a few hours together until I was about to bounce my kneecap off my leg with all my restless energy. When I saw Cress’s mom rush by with a medical device on wheels, I raced after her to help.

She let me shadow her, and I quickly learned the life of a nurse wasnotfor me, but it gave me an outlet to distract myself. Late into her shift, one of the Crystal fae moved in front of her and stared daggers at me.

“Who’s this?” he asked, jerking his chin my way.

Kathy Rollins, usually such a nice lady, scoffed and gestured for him to step aside. “Someone who’s helping around here, unlike you,” she said waspishly.

As the fae stared at her, the citrine-like crystals growing from his shoulders seemed to glow. “I’m keeping you safe,” he protested.

“You’re standing in my way,” she said.

A little startled, he stepped back, and she brushed past him, saying, “C’mon, Ben, ignore him.”

We helped the next patient and stepped into the hall again. There was no sign of the fae man now. “Soooo, who was that?” I asked with far more intrigue in my voice than necessary.

She rolled her eyes on cue. “Some patients set out to make your life more difficult. It just turns out that he’s still doing it, but now he’s ambulatory.”

Maybe I’d misread something here. He’d definitely been looking at her with some interest, but she clearly wasn’t returning it. “Need help with him?” I offered more seriously.

“No, sweetheart. I can handle myself.”

Well, whatever. I put it out of my mind when we visited the rooms of folks I recognized. First, we saw Aurora, who showed me a gnarly row of scars that looked like tire treads on her arms and across her belly from the Jellywalker’s rows of stingers. The doctors had done what they could for her, but she still froze up occasionally. She needed more time to recover from its venom and was thus bedbound.

There were more than a few guardians and fae who’d gotten seriously wounded helping out at the library too. I was glad to help them get more comfortable. They deserved that much for facing the meat grinder that was the onslaughts of unnaturals big and small.

I was starting to pat myself on the back for a job well done when we came back around to Cress and Phaeron’s room. I peeked inside and gasped. I’d lost the bet—he was awake and in the process of peeling bandages off of healed skin. Aware of Cress’s mom behind me, I held in my “oh shit” with effort.

He’d unhooked himself from the machines without causing them to scream and settled next to Cress’s bedside, still dressed in his hospital gown.

“Hey, stop that!” Kathy protested. She burst into the room and intercepted his wickedly clawed hands as they moved toward his face.

Phaeron exaggerated a grin from within the thicket of white on his face and held up his thumb.

“I think it’s okay,” I said, drawing her away from him. I still reached for a dagger to cut my finger and started drawing subtle blood runes on my arm just in case there was still some Myuna in him.

His skin was shiny from ointment, but he was clearly healed as he stripped off bandages and set them in a pile next to the chair. The docs must’ve given him a shot of a strong verdant witch tonic…which made me hope they did the same for Cress, who slept peacefully in the bed. Phaeron casually slipped his hand into hers and started playing with the blunt crescent of her thumbnail. Bruises had bloomed all over her soft skin and aged with whatever healing regime she’d been given, leaving them a dull yellow.

“See, Mama Rollins? All good,” I said awkwardly since he couldn’t speak English anymore or something. He would’ve charmed her right out the door if he would do more than stare at us without even a hint of comprehension.

---