"About my size. "
She laughed a little. "No, that you assumed I'd look at you in any fashion other than professionally. Can I bandage any of these?" She touched him lightly on the pec. "Even if I leave the bullets in, maybe it would slow the bleeding?"
"Not a good call. Sunshine and surface area are what it's about. And I'm going to be fine. As long as we don't cloud up. "
"Should we be getting you a tanning bed?"
Now he laughed - which made him cough. "No, no - has to be the real thing. "
"I don't like the sound of that rattle. "
"What time is it?"
"One twenty-six. "
"Come out in another thirty minutes and see where we're at. "
There was a period of quiet. "Okay. I will. Tohr will want an - " Her phone went off, and she answered it with, "I was just talking about you. Yup, I'm with him, and he's. . . bad, but he says he's taking care of himself. Of course I'll stay with him - no, I'm good on supplies, and I'll call in another twenty minutes. Fine, ten. " There was a long pause and then she took a deep breath. "It's - ah - it's a lot of gunshots. In his chest. " Another pause. "Hello? Hello, Tohr - Oh, good, I thought I'd lost you. Yeah - no, listen, you gotta trust me. If I thought he was in danger, I'd drag him kicking and screaming into the foyer. But to be honest, I'm watching him heal as we speak - I can see his internal bruising dissipating with my own eyes. Ok
ay. Yup. Bye. "
Lassiter didn't make any comment on all that; he just stayed where he was, eyes closed, body solar-paneling its way back to health.
"So you're the reason Tohr got out of that alley alive," the good doctor murmured after a while.
"I don't know what you're talking about. "
Chapter Thirty-Three
"Sorry, my man, but you only get one feeding. That's what I've been told. "
As Throe lay in the bed he'd been strapped to, he was not surprised at the human doctor's response to his inquiry. Strength in a prisoner did not work in the Brotherhood's favor. The problem was, he wasn't recovering very well, and more blood would help.
Of course. . . if he were to feed, would it not be just a lovely coincidence that he'd get to see that Chosen once more before he left.
She was close by. He could sense her. . . .
"In fact, I believe plans are being made for your imminent departure. Night's falling soon enough. "
Mayhap if he simply refused to move?
No, that would likely not slow the Brotherhood down. They would just handle him like any other variety of refuse.
The human surgeon left thereafter - how ever were they using a human, by the way? - and then he was alone again.
When the door reopened, he didn't bother cracking his lids. It wasn't the Chosen -
The click of metal on metal close to his ear got his attention. Popping his eyes wide, he stared into the barrel of a . 357 Magnum.
Vishous's gloved finger was attached to the trigger. "Wakie, wakie. "
"If you turn me out now," he said weakly, "I'm not going to make it. "
In this, he told the truth. Having lived off the weak sustenance of human females for as long as he had, he was not in a position to heal himself of wounds this serious so quickly.
Vishous shrugged. "Then we'll deliver you to Xcor in a pine box. "
"Best of luck with that, mate. I shall not tell you where to find him. " Although not because of Xcor. He didn't want his fellow soldiers - or more properly, his former comrades - to be attacked unaware. "You can torture me if you wish. But nothing shall escape my lips. "