Page 75 of Red Boar's Baby

“But you won’t answer.”

“No.” After a moment he said, “Perhaps someday. You and Costa—may I ask what’s going on there?”

“You may ask.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up in the most genuine smile she’d ever seen from him. “Ah.”

“It’s not so much that I don’t want to answer. It’s that I don’t know.”

“Reasonable.” He reached out and, to her great shock, gave her shoulder an awkward pat. “For whatever it’s worth, you definitely get him riled up like no one else.”

She remembered the heat of Costa’s mouth on hers, the slick joy of having him inside her. A rush of heat overwhelmed her. “Good,” she said faintly, and rested her head in her hands. “I’d hate to think he doesn’t ...”

Whatever she was going to say faded out of her mind. “I don’t,” she began, and tried to stand up, gripping for Caine. Her hand closed on his arm, but the world seemed to come up sideways and smack at her. She was dimly aware of Caine catching her and lowering her to the floor.

“Hey—Diana?”

She couldn’t seem to answer. She lost a little time, glimpsed the ceiling of a corridor, was aware of movement.

She dreamed.

Monsters lunged at her from feverish depths, an uncoiling black snakelike thing and clawing animals that were straight out of nightmare. She hallucinated herself in the desert, morning light rising around her, standing in front of a giant shape that she gradually realized was a roadrunner, but the size of a T-rex.

“Are you my shift shape?” she asked hesitantly, reaching a hand out toward it.

The creature dipped its head. At this size, the vast beak was like a jackhammer; it could have skewered her in an instant. But she felt no fear. She wasn’t sure if she got bigger or if it got smaller, but it was no taller than she was when she placed her hand cautiously on the side of its head.

It turned its head to the side so it could regard her from a golden bird’s eye.

“Are you trying to tell me something? I don’t understand.”

There was no reply. Diana blinked, and found herself peeling sticky, sleep-gummed eyes open as she woke. She turned her head weakly to the side. She was resting somewhere soft, head propped up by a pillow, and there was a blanket on top of her. Costa was holding her hand.

For a few minutes she just lay there and gazed at him. He had one hand wrapped around hers, and was holding a book in the other. He was dressed in sweatpants and a loose Phoenix Suns sweatshirt, which Diana guessed were either workout clothes he kept at the office or borrowed from someone. The same day, then? There were no windows or sources of natural daylight to give her guidance; in fact, a curtain drawn around her bed prevented her from seeing exactly where she was. But the fact that Costa was with her, and didn’t look worried or alarmed, soothed her fears. She wasn’t back in the lab; she was still at the SCB. And there were no medical personnel clustered around her bed, so she probably wasn’t dying.

Costa’s hair was tousled in a way that suggested a recent shower. It looked very touchable. Her hand twitched to reach out for it, and that was what tipped him off that she was awake.

He raised his head swiftly. “Diana,” he said, and the next thing she knew, he was leaning forward and kissing her.

What started out as a swift, dry brush of lips rapidly turned deeper and more heated, and when he finally pulled away, she was gasping—and also felt a lot more awake. “Well,” she breathed. “All of a sudden I understand why a kiss got Sleeping Beauty’s motor running.”

Costa laughed. He cupped his hand against her cheek and stroked lightly up to run his fingers through her hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Weird. Achy. Thirsty. Am I allowed to drink anything?”

“Yes, of course.” Costa reached for a plastic cup with a straw on the bedside table. He helped her sit up, supported her while she waited out a head rush, then handed it to her.

While she sipped what turned out to be refreshing ice water, Diana turned her hand over and examined the back of it, where an IV was taped. The line ran to a slack bag on a stand beside her bed, so it looked like whatever they had been giving her was finished. The shoulder where she had been injected felt stiff and sore, as if from receiving a vaccine, but other than that, she didn’t feel too bad. There were sticky tabs on her chest holding EKG leads, which showed a steady, reassuring rhythm.

“What’s the word from the docs?” she asked. “For that matter, what time is it? How long have I been out?”

“Oh. Sorry. I forgot that you wouldn’t know.” Costa started to look at the watch he wasn’t wearing, then reached for a phone he also didn’t have on him, and laughed ruefully. “It’s been almost twenty-four hours.”

“You’re kidding.” No wonder she felt so heavy and achy. “You haven’t been here the whole time, I hope?”

“I got some sleep,” Costa said, not very convincingly. “Farley woke up early this morning, and the last I heard, he was doing fine. He’s off in guest quarters with a guard on him. So they were expecting you to come around any time, but, you know—it’s hard to say for sure until it happens.”

Although his voice was light, Diana sensed the unspoken edges of the desperate worry underneath. Not sure what to do with that situation, she turned her attention to finishing the water instead. With her thirst slaked, she became aware that she was very hungry and also wearing nothing but a hospital gown. She could feel sand on her feet and legs every time she moved.

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