Page 10 of Infernal Hearts

As he cleans my ribs, the wetness starts cool but immediately starts burning hot as it coats my skin. It’s not awful, though—just a slight tingle that eats up the pain the more he rubs.

He lets out a heavy sigh and focuses his gaze entirely on my wound. “So, where are you from?” His voice doesn’t have much enthusiasm, but maybe my powers are starting to work again.

At last, polite conversation. Maybe he is interested. “Here and there. Why do you ask?”

He throws the towels into the trash. “Billing.”

I guess not. “Oh. In that case, I live in California. Been there for about a decade.”

He raises his eyebrows and clenches his jaw before pouring a golden liquid into a black bowl. He deftly dips a long thread inside it. “Thanks for the history lesson. Somehow, California does not surprise me.”

“What’s that s’posed to mean?”

He shrugs, swirling it around with a small glass rod—three times to the right, once to the left, and repeats over and over again. “Fancy suit. Quick mouth. You’re clearly not from around here.”

“Are you telling me I ain’t got your small-town charm?”

He keeps stirring. “Something like that.”

Ugh. He’s making this so much harder than it has to be. “So, is there a particular reason you don’t deal with magic anymore? Seems like you’ve got yourself some skills.”

“That’s personal.”

I purse my lips and tap my fingertips on the metal table. “Well, sorry for making conversation while you sew me back together.” He really doesn’t need to be so goddamn difficult. Or maybe this is why he works on pets and not people.

He stays quiet, putting on another pair of rubber gloves. “What are you in town for?”

“That’s personal.”

He gives me the blankest of stares. “Very mature. Just trying to figure out how you ended up at my doorstep in the middle of the night.” He grabs a curved silver needle and pulls the thread out of the bowl, now shining golden from the liquid. “Should I be worried that the target on your back is now on mine?”

“Doubt it. The attacker somehow snuck up on me. Shouldn’t be possible. I shook them off when I ran through the woods. Lost them about a mile back. My rental car is still sitting on the side of the road, though.”

“Might want to check on that in the morning.” He motions for me to lie down on my side. His thick hands are surprisingly nimble as he threads the needle and picks up metal tools. “You shouldn’t feel anything. The water works as an anesthetic and antibiotic for creatures.” He’s right—all I sense is a gentle pull as he works in silence.

I sigh, desperate to break the awkward quietness surrounding us. “Fine. To answer your question, I came looking for someone. And I can’t say it’s a particularly friendly town, from what I’ve experienced. Not sure why someone would want to kill me after less than a day.”

He lets out a short, rough laugh. “Did you try to sleep with them, too?”

My voice goes up, sing-songy paired with an equally pleasant smile. “No, but I’ll try that next time. Thanks for the tip.”

He continues to methodically suture for a few more minutes. My magic doesn’t feel any different, but maybe that just takes time.

It’s funny—he has this air about him that puts me at ease, despite his shitty bedside manner. Something about him makes me feel like I’m going to be okay. Some of my strength is already returning the longer he touches me, magic sparkling in my chest.

It’s a strangely sensual moment. The numbness of the cool water, the slight sharp pull and pain, and his hands softly pressing into my skin. It wouldn’t be my first choice, but I’ve definitely felt worse. My eyes cut down to him, but he’s too enveloped in work to notice.

At last, he clips the thread and sets down his tools to clean up. “Well, I’ve done what I can. You’re going to need some rest, and I’ll need to keep an eye on you.” He crosses his arms and takes a deep breath.

I slip my shirt back on, silently thanking him for the anesthetic. Surprisingly, it’s much easier to think when pain isn’t overwhelming you. “Great. Let me find a hotel, and I’ll be back in the morning.”

He pauses and looks at me sideways. “You don’t have a room already?”

“I was a little preoccupied with someone carving me up like a Christmas ham.”

“Do what you want.” It really doesn’t matter to him either way, it seems, but I can still sense his rising temperature and see the tiny fidgeting of his fingers. Hereallywants me gone.

I get up from the table, but dizziness immediately sets in. I brace myself on the table and wait for it to pass, but it won’t. As soon as I stand, the room starts to spin, forcing me to lean against the table. He steps forward before stopping himself, his fingers twitching at his side.

---