Page 46 of Bewitched By the Sea Monster
“I want a hot shower and clean clothes,” I mumbled. “And I want you to take me to bed. I don’t wanna stumble around in the dark trying to find the medical clinic. It’s going to storm…”
On cue, a pop of thunder rattled the walls of our cottage.
“Oh yeah. That’s gonna be a big ‘un.” Jackson tapped my back when I flinched at the noise. “We’ll see how you are tomorrow and go from there. I know gnarly vacation infections are a great watercooler topic, but I think we’d rather save that for another time, yeah?”
“Yeah. Preferably never.” I exhaled, slowly, trying to release the tension in my gut. But between my nerves and Jackson’s stress, no breathing technique stood a chance at unraveling that anxious knot.
I shivered. And shivering made my bones feel as though they’d been chiseled with a nail file. So I nuzzled into Jackson, trying to drink up his body heat. “Jackson, you won’t believe—” I started, searching for the words to describe Alistair.
But at the same time, Jackson said, “I hate to be the bearer of bad reminders, but there’s no hot water in these showers.”
My nerve-knotted stomach plummeted. “Oh no.”
We had plumbing in this cottage, sure. Flushing toilets, showers, sinks, the works. But it was all old fashioned and there was no electricity, so the water got lukewarm at best.
And I really, really,reallywanted a scalding hot shower. I wanted it so bad, it hurt. Wanted it so bad, I cried.
“Hey now”—Jackson prodded my back—“none of that. It’s toasty in here, and we do have a kettle, remember? And tea bags.”
I blew out a shaky, and very moist, breath. “I forgot all about the kettle. Could you throw it on while I shower? And give me the biggest cup they have.”
“I’ll maketwocups.”
“Thank you. I love you.” I pressed a sloppy kiss to his neck.
He rested his chin atop my head. “I know.”
“OW!”
I yelped, clapping a hand to my side when the crazy lady shoved her palm against my ribs and made my bones crunch.
“Broken ribs too. Tsk-tsk.” The sallow-faced Healer (named Alana, also known ascrazy lady)walked to the black and white counter tucked into the corner of the healing room. “Fortunately, nothing is displaced, and the wounds are shallow, so this tonic’ll have you right as rain in a few hours.” She flung her latex gloves off and began pulling vials and powders out of the cabinets.
“Thank fuck.” Jackson clenched my hand. He’d been beside himself that morning when I’d woken up too stiff to bend, my feet burning too much to walk, and the gash in my thigh still oozing blood—even after I’d cleaned and bandaged it. So off to the health clinic we’d gone. Where the solitary Healer—a Sorceress with a penchant for tonic mixing—scowled and scuffed her way through the patient list, of which there’d been three: a round-faced boy, no older than six or seven, who’d developed a fever overnight; a middle-aged woman who said she had a stomach flu (judging by the tequila scent wafting off her, I’d guess that flu bug came from the bottom of a bottle); and me.
It stunk here, in this small, white-walled room. Mainly with an overpowering herbal aroma, but there was a faint sour milk scent too, likely emanating from one of the vials Alana lined up on the counter.
“How is it you came to find yourself with these injuries?” Alana asked as she dropped a pinch of neon green liquid into a glass beaker.
Jackson and I looked at each other.
“You might as well come out with it.” She swished the liquid around. “If there’s a risk of tetanus from those cuts, it’s better to let me know now than wait ‘til you’re home and have to deal withStandiedoctors.”
Such disdain in her voice.Standie doctors.
Sure, they weren’t as quick to heal or as efficient at diagnosing as the Sorcerers. But they did the best they could and offered salvation and relief to the millions of Standies who couldn’t afford the exorbitant fees to be treated by a Sorcerer.
At our silence, Alana paused and turned, staring down her nose at where I sat on the exam table, my bare and mangled feet hanging over the edge. Jackson stood with his hip propped against the table beside me, looking utterly nonchalant, but his agitation pricked and prodded at me.
“Doing something you weren’t supposed to, huh?” Alana tutted and turned away with a low,“AmericanStandies...”
“I didn’t know we weren’t supposed to swim in the inlet,” I muttered. There. The truth. But not entirely. Swimming.Not skinny-dipping.
Alana sighed and opened the cabinet above her head, grabbing another vial. “You’re not. It’s in the brochure you’re given when you check in, but you Standies never bother to read the fine print, do you? That’s what gets you into trouble. Us Sorcerers are taught to mind those warnings when we’re young. Don’t read the fine print on an enchantment and you’ll flip yourbones outside your skin. It’s happened,” she added after a glance at my horrified face. “Especially with cosmetic enchantments. And it’s a right nightmare to reverse. So we make sure to read fine print, whereas Standies flippantly ignore such warnings. Must be nice.”
“T-there were other people in the water, though.” I looked at Jackson, silently pleading for his help.
“And if other people decide to jump into the mouth of the sea beast, are you going to follow them? Thinking it’s safe?” Alana scoffed.
