Page 29 of Last Hope
The man was probably the size of a bear, all bulky-like with muscles ripping through his tight green shirt. He had ginger hair and a blond Viking’s beard to accompany it and his eyes were a blue-green-orange mixture and, Isis noticed as he drew closer, the colors in his eyes were in the form of fish scales.
The man appeared to be chasing someone—or something—because he was looking down at the floor, arms extended as if ready to dive for it at any given moment.
Isis’s eyes trailed the floor, looking for what it could possibly be when she saw a blur of white zoom between her opened legs. She turned around and watched the events unfold as the large man chased after the white blur, which ducked under small places impossible for him to get his enormous hands under.
And then, for a minute, the blur ceased to be one and took the image of a very small, very white bunny rabbit with frozen blue eyes. And it only took that moment for the man to take a head dive for the rabbit, arms outstretched, and then it was squirming between his large hands.
Like a picture morphing, the bunny rabbit changed before Isis’s eyes and became the shape of a small boy, being held by the naked waist. The boy was the color of pale sea pearls, his hair as white as newly fallen snow. His face was innocent yet serious; his big round eyes were a fascinating blue; the type of blue that covered a winter wonderland with ice, frozen, pale eyes that regarded the man with a serious expression.
“I told you to go to bed!” the man lectured in a booming, kind voice as he stood up and sat the naked child on his feet.
“I am aware,” the child said, his tone serious.
“Then, why didn’t you?”
Then, Ami cleared her throat and they both turned to look at her then at their guests. The man’s eyes widened with surprise and then he smiled, although the child remained impassive.
“Hello,” the man said in a musical tone. “I didn’t know we had visitors. We never have visitors, so this is a shock, indeed.”
Isis decided that she liked this man, and smiled back at him.
“Meet Riordan,” Ami said in exasperated tones, nodding at the man.
He held his hand out to the both of them. “Nice to meet you. This…” He gestured to the naked boy at his side. “…is Othello.” The boy nodded once in their direction but didn’t move to extend his hand as the man had.
“My husband and my son,” Ami muttered. “It is past your bedtime.” She directed a strict tone towards Othello, who stared back at her with the same blank expression in his frozen eyes. The boy shrugged once and then walked out of the room nonchalantly.
“A shapechanger?” Isis asked once he had left.
Riordan nodded proudly. “Just like his father. He’s even got my attitude.” Isis stared.Hisattitude? She highly doubted that. “But wait until you meet his sister, Lucinda,” Riordan continued. “She’s got all of her mother’s high and mighty attitude and witchiness.”
Ami shook her head, eyes closed and face unreadable. “Riordan?” she whispered. “It’s pastyourbedtime.”
16
It was the infernal beeping that awoke him from his unwanted slumber. At first he had heard it in the background and he had assumed it was his heartbeat, annoyinglythump-thumping until the noise grew louder and he realized it wasn’t athump-thumpat all, but the beeping of a machine.
Terrance sat up easily only to realize where he was, for he had waited for Victoria to wake up in this very same place months ago when she had been stabbed with silver. But his room wasn’t brightly lit. Darkness threatened to pressurize his chest, shadows danced across already dark cement walls. The only illumination that gave away his location were the small computers by his bedside with knobs and turns and complicated signals which he, frankly, didn’t understand.
And then there was that blastedbeeping.
He was shirtless, and there were tubes up his nostrils and things taped to his chest. Grunting, he pulled the tubes from his nose, ignoring the bite of pain, for he had been through much worse. He pulled at the tape from his chest, until all chords connecting him to the machine were thrown off to the side, the beeping finally ceasing to be.
He knew where he was; the Supernatural Hospital. He had only ever been here once, when he hadn’t left Victoria’s bedside. And at that time, he remembered hoping that someday, if he were in her position, she would be at his, returning the favor and watching over him with her big, brown eyes.
But Victoria wasn’t there. And for a moment, disappointment dissolved his heart, but he pushed that pathetic mortal feeling away just as easily as when he first felt it. He trusted her. And if she wasn’t by his bedside, there was a reason. And he was going to figure it out.
Aching all over, he threw his legs over the side of the hospital bed and stood up. The room around him spun in circles, but he ignored it. He wouldn’t let the silly pain keep him from finding Victoria and making sure she was okay.
He threw open the door to his room and was instantly blinded by fluorescent lights that caused his head to pound, but he walked forward. He was aware of the people around him, staring as he blindly scanned for Phillipe’s face.
“Phillipe!” he called out, almost desperately. She had to be around here. She had to be! After what had happened in the V.S.L. she had to be there to talk him through what had happened. She would be there to fill in the blanks, to answer his questions and together they would finish the case. But she was nowhere in sight.
“Sir, you can’t be out of your room!”
He stopped walking when a nurse appeared in front of him. He barely glanced at her young face as he tried to walk forward.
“Sir, listen to me! You have to get back to your room so we can do some more studies on you. You just woke up; it’s not safe to be walking around like this.” She made the mistake of gripping his naked forearm.
