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God, she was back to waffling again.

His name was Stephan. Stephan, son of Tehm, although she didn't know him or his family. He was a civilian, not an aristocrat, and he'd come in with his cousin, who'd cut his hand splitting logs for firewood. While she'd been doing the discharge paperwork, she'd talked to Stephan about the kinds of things single people talked about: He liked Radiohead; she did, too. She liked Indonesian food; he did, too. He worked in the human world, doing computer programming, thanks to virtual commuting. She was a nurse, duh. He lived at home with his parents, the only son in a solidly civilian family-or at least they'd sounded solidly civilian, his father doing construction for vampire contractors, his mother teaching the Old Language freelance.

Nice, normal. Trustworthy.

Considering what the aristocrats had done to her father's sanity, she figured that all seemed like a good bet, and when Stephan had asked her out for a coffee, she'd said yes, they'd agreed on tonight, and exchanged cell phone numbers.

But what was she going to do? Call him and say she couldn't because of a family situation? Go anyway, and worry about her father?

A quick call to Lusie from the locker room, though, and the news from home was favorable: Ehlena's father had had a long rest and was now calmly working on his papers at his desk.

Half an hour at an all-night diner. Maybe a shared scone. What was the harm?

As she decided to go once and for all, she didn't appreciate the image that flashed through her mind. Rehv's bare chest with those red star tattoos on it was not what she needed to be thinking about as she resolved to go on a date with another male.

What she needed to concentrate on was getting out of her uniform and at least nominally improving her appearance.

With the overday staff funneling in and those who had been on during the night leaving, she changed from her uniform into the skirt and sweater she'd brought with her-

She'd forgotten her shoes.

Great. White crepe soles were so sexy.

"What's wrong?" Catya said.

She turned around. "Any chance these two white boats on my feet don't totally ruin this outfit?"

"Er...honestly? They're not that bad."

"You so don't lie well."

"I gave it a shot."

Ehlena packed her uniform into her bag, redid her hair, and checked the makeup situation. Of course, she'd forgotten her eyeliner and mascara as well, so the cavalry was out of horses on that front, so to speak.

"I'm glad you're going," Catya said as she erased the night roster from the whiteboard.

"Considering you're my boss, that makes me nervous. I'd rather have you happy to see me coming into the clinic."

"No, it's not about work. I'm glad you're going out tonight."

Ehlena frowned and looked around. By some miracle, they were alone. "Who says I'm going anywhere but home?"

"A female going home doesn't change out of her uniform here. And she doesn't worry about how her footwear goes with her skirt. I'll spare you the who-is-he."

"That's a relief."

"Unless you want to volunteer?"

Ehlena laughed out loud. "No, I'd rather keep it private. But if it goes anywhere...I'll spill."

"And I'll keep you to that." Catya went over to her locker and just stared at it.

"You okay?" Ehlena said.

"I hate this damn war. I hate having the dead come in here, and seeing the pain they went through on their faces." Catya opened the locker and got busy getting her parka out. "Sorry, don't mean to be a downer."

Ehlena went over and put her hand on the female's shoulder. "I know just how you feel."

There was a moment between them as their eyes clung to each other's. And then Catya cleared her throat.

"Right, off you go. Your male awaits."

"He's picking me up here."

"Ohhh, maybe I'll just hang around and have a cigarette outside."

"You don't smoke."

"Drat, foiled again."

On her way to the exit, Ehlena checked in at the registration desk to make sure there was nothing else she needed to do with the handoff to the new shift. Satisfied everything was in order, she went through the doors and up the stairs until she was finally free of the clinic.

The night was out of the cool zip code and into chill city, the air smelling blue to her, if the color did indeed have a scent: There was just something so fresh and icy and clear as she breathed deep and exhaled in soft clouds. With each inhale, she felt as if she were taking the sapphire sprawl of the heavens above into her lungs and that the stars were sparks skipping through her body.

As the last of the nurses departed, dematerializing or driving off, depending on what they had planned, she said good-bye to the stragglers. Then Catya came and went.

Ehlena stamped her feet and checked her watch. The male was ten minutes late. No big deal.

Leaning back against the aluminum siding, she felt her blood sing in her veins, an odd freedom swelling in her chest as she thought about going out somewhere with a male on her own-

Blood. Veins.

Rehvenge hadn't had his arm treated.

The thought slammed into her head and lingered like the echo of a big noise. He hadn't dealt with that arm. There had been nothing in the record about the infection, and Havers was as scrupulous about his notes as he was about the staff uniforms and the cleanliness of the patient rooms and the organization of the supply closets.

When she'd come back from the pharmacy with the drugs, Rehvenge had had his shirt on and done up at the cuffs, but she'd assumed that was because the examination had been finished. Now she was willing to bet he'd put it on right after she'd finished taking the blood.

Except...it was none of her business, was it. Rehvenge was an adult male well within his rights to make poor decisions about his health. Just like that drug overdose who had barely survived the night, and just like the any number of patients who nodded a lot when the doctor was in front of them, but who went home and were noncompliant about their prescriptions or their aftercare.

There was nothing she could do to save someone who didn't want to be rescued. Nothing. And that was among the biggest tragedies in her work. All she could do was present options and consequences and hope the patient chose wisely.

A breeze rolled in, shooting right up her skirt and making her envy Rehvenge's fur coat. Leaning out from the side of the clinic, she tried to see down the drive, looking for headlights.

Ten minutes later, she checked her watch again.

And ten minutes after that, she lifted her wrist once more.

She'd been stood up.

It wasn't a surprise. The date had been so hastily thrown together, and they didn't really know each other, did they.

As another cold breeze tackled her, she took out her cell phone and texted: Hi, Stephan-sorry to have missed you tonight. Maybe some other time. E.

She put her phone back in her pocket and dematerialized home. Instead of going right in, she burrowed into her cloth coat and paced up and back on the cracked sidewalk that ran down the side of the house to the rear door. As the frigid wind kicked up again, a blast hit her face.

Her eyes stung.

Turning her back to the gust, wisps of her hair feathered forward as if they were trying to flee the chill, and she shivered.

Great. Now when her vision got watery, she didn't have the excuse of the stiff breeze.

God, was she crying? Over what could just be some misunderstanding? With a guy she barely knew? Why did it matter so much to her?

Ah, but it wasn't him at all. The problem was her. She hated that she was where she had been when she'd left the house: alone.

Trying to get a grip, literally, she reached out for the handle of the back door, but couldn't bring herself to go in. The image of that crappy, too-ordered kitchen, and the remembered sound of those creaky stairs going to the cellar, and the dusty, papery smell of her father's room were as familiar as her reflection in any mirror. Tonight it was all too clear, a brilliant flashlight nailing her in both eyes, a roaring sound in her ears, an overwhelming stench bombarding her nose.

She dropped her arm. The date had been a get-out-of-jail-free card. A raft off the island. A hand reached over the cliff she was hanging off of.

The desperation snapped her into focus like nothing else could. She had no business going out with anyone if that was her attitude. It wasn't fair to the guy or healthy for her. When Stephan hit her up again, if he did, she was just going to say she was too busy-

"Ehlena? You okay?"

Ehlena jumped back from the door that had evidently just opened wide. "Lusie! Sorry, just...just thinking too much. How's Father doing?"


Tags: J.R. Ward Black Dagger Brotherhood Fantasy