Something she couldn’t allow to remain forgotten.
“This is not a long-term care ward.”
The light in the infirmary was set as low as it could possibly go without actually being off. Still plenty bright to see, but it did give contrast to the bright light shining through a crack in Nurse Post’s office door.
“With your wife stabilized, I’m going to have to ask you to move her. We can handle the finer details, but we still need your approval.”
Juliana glanced down at her mother and got the impression of peace. Her sleeping face appeared at rest, compared to the contortion of pain she was in back in Hell. A remarkable state considering her sternum had shattered, several ribs were broken, and several internal organs and blood vessels were raw and fresh.
A machine was hooked up to her chest, acting entirely as her heart. That particular organ would need to be regrown entirely.
And yet, her face was calm as if she were resting on a sunny beach.
Painkillers worked wonders.
“I understand,” Carlos’ voice drifted through the office door. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“Of course. Happy I could help. Now, if you’ll just take a seat, we can go over a few things.”
Juliana tuned them out. It sounded like they would be busy for a while and she didn’t want to disturb them. After scrawling a quick note on a tablet on the bedside table, Juliana left Brakket Academy’s main infirmary.
And promptly ran into a small entourage. Her breath hitched as she watched the members go by. Dean Turner led the group, followed closely by a man in a long dark coat. At his side was a primary source of Juliana’s consternation.
Zagan.
The devil moved with the group yet he felt distant from it all. The man in the dark coat was speaking to him, but if Zagan was listening, he gave no indication. He did not, however, miss Juliana standing stock still. Flashing his white teeth, Zagan gave a casual wave in her direction.
Which only brought everyone’s attention down on her.
Dean Turner was the first to angle towards Juliana. Zagan followed without hesitation, forcing the man in the coat and a fourth member–the secretary, if Juliana remembered right–to head over as well.
“Miss Rivas,” Dean Turner said in greeting. “Is your mother..?”
“Stabilized and resting. My dad is discussing what hospital to move her to for longer-term observation and treatment.”
“That is good to hear.”
Juliana nodded, leaving her head aimed at their feet after her nod; Zagan was looking at her as if expecting her to ask something of him and Juliana had no idea what. He had already made it clear that asking for additional assistance was grounds for termination. She was still a student and he was presumably still under contract, so he probably wasn’t expecting a comment about
Unless he wasn’t expecting her to ask for something. Looking up to meet his golden eyes, a response formed in Juliana’s mind. “Thank you,” she said, “for getting us out of there.”
His eyes widened a tiny fraction, giving Juliana the impression that he had been expecting something else entirely. Which was probably a good thing. He had said, upon being summoned, that the only reason she wasn’t dead was because of the novelty of a situation he had never experienced before.
So surprises were one of his weaknesses. She’d have to go and think up a bunch if she wanted to be in good standing with the devil who so casually dispatched the demon her mother, Arachne, Eva, and herself had all failed to inflict meaningful damage upon.
After his brief surprise passed, he gave a slight bow in return, saying nothing.
Both the secretary at his side and the man in the coat gave him something of an evil glare.
“If there’s nothing else,” Juliana said, “I was just on my way to my dorm room…”
“Oh, don’t let us hold you,” Dean Turner said. “You should be with your mother, family, and friends in times like these.”
Juliana nodded and slipped around them, ignoring the quiet remarks at her back. She wasn’t much interested in conversation with any of them.
Power-walking back to her dorm room, Juliana sang out a string of curses under her breath. All of them were directed at herself. Five days. Five whole days passed and she had let herself forget one of the most important things.
She was in an all out run by the time she reached the third floor.
Throwing the door open and flying into the room, Juliana skidded to a stop in front of her desk. It took mere seconds of rifling through her drawers to find the object of her current ire.
A small glass eye, fit for a doll.
Gripping the loathsome object in her hand, Juliana threw it with all her might.
It shattered against the floor, sending pieces every which way.
