Page 20 of Her Dreadful Will
Shutting off the call, Soleil snatched her bag and her keys and charged out the front door, not even bothering to lock it. Carebear would protect the place in her absence.
She batted away a night insect or two, yanked open the car door, and threw herself inside, sobbing. She folded down the visor above her seat and flipped open the little mirror. As the tiny lights winked on, she risked another peek at her tooth. It looked worse than ever in the weird glow.
“Okay. Okay, calm down,” she whispered. “Directions—you need directions to the clinic.” She still had the dental clinic website open on her phone, so she started navigation to the location.
She barely remembered the ten-minute drive. The impassive voice of her GPS app directed her— “Turn right on Salvatore Street. In half a mile, turn left onto Lochland Drive. Your destination is on the left.” Parking crooked in one of the spots, she yanked the keys out of the ignition, lunged out of the car, and flew up the steps. A desperate whimper escaped her lips as a fresh wave of pain speared her tooth.
Above the entrance to the clinic, a single lamp flickered intermittently as fluttering moths crossed its beam.
Soleil wrapped her fingers around the door’s cold metal handle and tugged.
It was locked.
No no no.
She fumbled with her phone, trying to unlock the screen with her left thumb while her right fingers pressed her jawbone.
A sharp click sounded at the clinic entrance, and she looked up with a gasp. A figure had appeared, outlined in skewed proportions behind the frosted glass. The next second, the door swung open, and Soleil rushed inside, barely glancing at the man. “Thank you, oh my gosh, I’m so sorry to bother you this late but my—my tooth—” Tears gathered in her eyes again, clouding her view of the dim hallway.
The man was already wearing a pale blue mask over his mouth and nose. His glasses glinted in the half-light as he waved her forward. “The room at the end of the hall, please. I’ll take a look.”
She walked forward along the hallway, glancing nervously at the empty front desk. Were they the only two people in the place? Of course they were. She’d called this man after hours on a weekend. Did she really expect him to disturb his receptionist as well? She would have felt more comfortable if he had. She didn’t like being alone in this unfamiliar place with a strange man, even one who was supposedly here to help her. He had given her no reason to be afraid—he was here as a medical professional, after all. But she’d heard enough horror stories to be wary; and she had experienced too many clumsy ass-squeezes and chest-gropes from random men to trust in the politeness of strangers.
Dragging her hand away from her cheek, she touched the rings she wore. On the first finger of her left hand was a ring hewn from the bone of a wolverine, carved with tiny skulls and set with a bit of black tourmaline for protection and the banishment of evil. Once activated, with a mere flex of her will, a touch from it could temporarily paralyze an assailant. On her right thumb rested a titanium band inlaid with hematite. Usually it yielded a small uptick in strength and agility, but when activated it gave her thirty seconds of insanely powerful and focused magical energy, perfect for curse-casting. And then there was the most powerful ring of them all—the tiny kinglet skull coated in silver, its eyes glinting with miniature diamonds. It required a smear of her blood and a word to activate, and it could suck in and trap a human soul. Just one soul. She’d never had to use it, but she wore it always, in case anyone ever tried to murder her in the dark.
But as far as Soleil could tell from the sound of his footsteps, the dentist was staying a respectful distance behind her.
She entered the tiny exam room and stood as close to the wall as she could, pressing her fingers to her jaw again. The dentist adjusted his glasses. His hands were already encased in blue gloves.
“I’m Dr. Gilliam,” he said. “Normally I would have you fill out some paperwork first, but since it’s just us and you’re obviously in a lot of pain, we can do that part after I check your tooth, all right?”
Soleil nodded.
“Good. You can put your purse on that chair over there, and have a seat.”
Swallowing hard, Soleil obeyed. Only when she leaned back in the chair did she remember what she was wearing—a pair of tiny shorts and a soft, thin tank top. No bra.
Her face burned. She crossed her arms over her chest.
The pain in her tooth had receded a little. Or maybe Dr. Gilliam’s presence or her own embarrassment was distracting her from it. The dentist had the height and lithe slenderness of a tree, pliable yet steady. Reassuring. His presence hummed through her veins like a faint song she could almost recognize.
Adjusting the mask over his mouth, he leaned in. “Okay, let’s have a look at those teeth. Have you been flossing?”
She tilted her head back, closing her eyes against the glare of the light shining into her face. “Yes.”
“How often?”
“Maybe once a week?”
“Let’s try doing that a little more often. Open for me.”
Soleil opened her mouth.
Silence. So much silence in this room, in this entire building. Heavy silence, hanging thick and still in empty exam rooms, crawling along the hallway and up the chair and into Soleil’s ears. What was he seeing in her mouth? A softened lump of rotted enamel and a slimy decayed root? Was he going to pull the tooth right then and there? Why wasn’t he speaking? He was justhovering, his green eyes sober behind his glasses, his breath puffing faintly behind the mask.
“One moment, please.” He turned away briefly to pick up a tool. Soleil barely had time for an inhale before his fingers were in her mouth again, probing the afflicted area. To her surprise, the touch didn’t hurt all that much.
Then something vibrated against her diseased tooth, and she thought she might scream, not from pain but from sheer suspense. She squeezed her eyes shut again. Why wouldn’t he say anything? She could nudge his will a little, prompt him to tell—
