I didn’t say anything. Not because I was upset, not because I didn’t want her here, but because I was trying to grasp where I was and what the fuck had just happened.
The where part was obvious. A glance around the room told me everything I needed to know. The little shield emblem on the door gave it away.
One of the underground hospitals.
We may have stayed hidden from the human race, but places like this were part of how. Most of us couldn’t see a human doctor for any medical issue. Considering how high my temperature ran, I’d never get off antibiotics if I relied on human healthcare.
Places like this were run by the Chambers—a group of rich bastards that governed the supernatural world. They were like congress. They had a say over big things, kept the races in line to avoid exposure, and sat on their asses.
I guessed I had to give them credit for places like this though. At least we had somewhere to go when we were sick. Although, that was to their benefit too. Couldn’t have us showing up to a human hospital with a half-healed gunshot wound…
A gunshot.
I was shot.
There was the thump at the door, and then I was shot.
I tugged the hospital gown forward and looked down. A piece of gauze was taped just below my ribs.
“They said you’re healing really well,” Brooke said. “Advantages of being a wolf, I guess. The bullet hit an artery, but they were able to cauterize it, and there was an exit wound, and it didn’t hit any major organs, so that’s good, and they didn’t need to do any major surgeries, and—”
I looked up. “Brooke.”
She swallowed. “Yeah?”
“Breathe for a second.”
Slowly, her shoulders drooped, eyes softening.
Silence settling back in, only the annoying heart monitor beeping beside the bed, my frazzled mind leveled.
I was shot, and then…
“Why are you here?” I asked.
Brooke’s wide eyes grew mopey. She scratched her head and uncomfortably shifted in her seat. “I was just waiting until you got up. I wanted to make sure you were okay, and I didn’t know your mom’s information to give them for an emergency contact, so I just wanted to make sure you weren’t a john doe in case anything didn’t go well.” She brought herself to her feet. “But you are. Okay, I mean. You’re okay. So I’ll head out—”
“No, no.” I rubbed my heavy eyes. Bad phrasing. Really bad phrasing for someone as uncomfortable as Brooke often seemed to be. “No, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s fine that you’re here. I’m glad you’re here. But how did you know?”
The silence grew louder.
Slowly lowering herself to the chair, Brooke massaged her temple. “I have no idea.”
“What do you mean?”
“I-I don’t know.” Another hard swallow. “I just got home, and I was talking to my sister, and we were getting ready to leave. I was getting dressed, and then it felt like someone punched me in the chest. And then I looked down, but I saw your spade.”
My face must’ve shown my confusion.
She gestured to my forearm. “Your tattoo. I saw your tattoo, and I saw all the blood, and then I felt you fall, and…” She nervously raked a hand through her messy curls. “I was in your head. I saw what was happening like it was happening to me.”
I still didn’t understand at first. But then my mind went to the obvious conclusion. “You bound yourself to me? I showed you everything I knew about Misty. I—”
“I didn’t.” The puzzled, sheepishness in her gaze dissipated, expression hardening. “I don’t cast without consent. I cast the spell for your memories of Misty, and that was it. I was trying to haul ass out of your place before you realized I was gone. Why the fuck would I bind myself to you, Declan? What would be the purpose?”
That attitude wasn’t appreciated, neither was her glare, but that was the only thing that made sense.
“Then how the hell did you know?”