Page 48 of Dark Shaman: Love Found
"I brought you some fashion choices," he announced, dumping the clothes on the foot of Tim's bed. "Hildegard said that you needed something to wear, and since you have turned into a twig, she thought my things would fit you."
That she hadn't asked to borrow Andrew's clothes was kind of insulting. She'd asked Roni, who still wore the same size he'd worn when working in his glass cage in the government building. He was seventeen back then.
"That's nice of you," Tim said. "Where's my enterprising nurse?"
"Said something about us wanting to reminisce about old times." Roni flopped into the visitor's chair. "How does it feel to be immortal?"
"Like I was hit by a tank, run over by a bulldozer, and thrown in the back of a dump truck." Tim leaned over and picked up one of the t-shirts Roni had brought, holding it up. "This thing fits you?"
"Yeah. Andrew said we're about the same size now." Roni's grin widened. "Weird, right? Before, I could fit in your belly. Now we could share a wardrobe."
"Hey, I wasn't that fat. I was pleasantly plump."
Roni arched a brow. "Pleasant by whose standards?"
"Mine. The only ones that count." Tim examined the shirt more closely. It was black like most everything Roni owned, with some incomprehensible tech joke printed on the front. "I haven't worn anything this small since I was ten."
"Once you are out of here, you can eat your way to your previous girth. Immortality will give you one hell of a metabolism, but knowing you, you will just stuff your mouth until you are back to popping buttons on your too-tight shirts."
Tim chuckled. "I see you haven't changed a bit. You are still an asshole."
Roni dipped his head. "Thank you."
"You are welcome." Tim put the shirt down. "It's wild that I had no idea what happened to you after you disappearedfrom the hospital. The rumors around the office were that the Russians abducted you to work for them. Others said that you worked for the drug cartels, and all that time you were right here under our noses."
"You've got it the other way around, my friend. You were all under my nose. I knew exactly what every one of you was doing."
Tim frowned. "How?"
"I left a backdoor into the system."
"And you are telling me that, why?"
Roni made a face. "You are one of us now. You can't tell anyone without exposing what you've become. Besides, are you planning on going back to work?"
"I don't know yet." Tim pulled the blanket up to his chest. "What am I going to do if not that?"
"Whatever you want. You are an artist."
Tim let out a breath. "My talent is very specific. It requires people to tell me what they see. I don't create art, I recreate memories, and working for the government brings me plenty of potential clients. I'm in high demand, and people seek me out."
Roni cast him a pitying look. "You can't go back. How are you going to explain growing over four inches and losing a third of your body weight?"
"Easy." Tim shrugged. "I'll use the same excuse Andrew did. A Swiss spa. If he could grow two inches thanks to spinemanipulation, I can grow four, and the weight loss could be just as easily explained."
"Right." Roni looked skeptical. "You are practically unrecognizable. You look ten years younger."
"Wonders never cease." Tim snorted. "Who would have thought that I would hear compliments from you?"
"I know, right?" Roni shifted in the chair. "The people here are sickeningly nice and polite, and it's rubbing off on me."
"Speaking of nice, how's life here treating you?"
Roni folded his arms over his chest. "I still work endless hours, and I'm still the king of my domain. I have a sweet setup in the clan's lab. You should see my equipment. Full haptic interface, quantum processing arrays, the works."
"Sounds like heaven for a tech nerd. What about your throne chair? Did you get another one?"
Roni grinned. "I've gotten an even better one. I can work for sixteen hours straight without getting a crick in my neck."
