Chapter 17

Newt

Several hours passedbefore everything calmed down. Sebastian never woke up during that whole time, though that really didn't surprise me. He'd been given a strong anesthetic and was on some pretty heavy pain drugs.

Still, I wished I could speak to him, even for a moment just to assure myself that he was okay.

No, not okay.

With that many injuries, I couldn't say he was okay. But I at least wanted to know that the person I cared about still resided behind his eyes, and that this whole experience hadn't changed him mentally.

Mostly, I just wanted him to tell me that it wasn't my fault and that he didn't blame me for his injuries.

Eventually, it was decided that Sebastian and I needed to be left alone to rest, so Damien and Gabe took their conversation to another room. Frankie had intended to stay with me, but I asked him to go with the others.

Not only did I need a few moments to myself, but I trusted Frankie to tell me the truth. So, I needed him to be involved in the investigation as much as possible, otherwise I feared I'd be kept entirely out of the loop.

So, that was how I ended up lying on my bed alone with the lights turned down low, counting the rhythmic beeping of the machines monitoring Sebastian's health.

I was out of tears, though the urge to cry remained. The logical part of my brain said that it was probably a sign of dehydration, but it was easier to think that I'd simply used them all up.

Surely there had to be a limited number of tears a person could shed.

Why did people cry anyway?

From a biological standpoint, it made no sense. When a person was distressed, unnecessarily wasting water and vital nutrients seemed counterproductive to human survival.

The door to the room quietly opened. I didn't bother looking away from my staring contest with the ceiling, assuming it was either Frankie or Damien coming to check on me. Or maybe even my sister. So many people had come and gone through the door today that I'd stopped keeping track.

The person went over to Sebastian's bedside, so I assumed it was Damien, but the footsteps were too light. At first, I dismissed this observation as paranoid, until I realized the sound of the person's shoes on the floor didn't sound right. The shoe had too much of a heel to be Damien. The man was already over six feet. He didn't need to make himself taller.

As I looked over at Sebastian, the room was dark, but the curtains were open. Early morning light gave me a clear view at the woman standing over Sebastian.

It was Miss Constella, the hospital's administrator. The square glasses and tight bun she always wore were easily recognizable.

"Administrator Constella, what are you doing here?"

She flinched, but quickly calmed herself as she turned to look at me. "Nurse Clary. Forgive me. I thought you were asleep."

I shrugged and sat up, pulling the blanket away so my legs weren't tangled. "It's hard to sleep right now. So, what are you doing?"

"Oh," she gestured back toward Sebastian. "Just administering his medication. We're short staffed today, so I'm helping out where I can."

I laughed as though we were merely chatting in the break room. "When are we not short staffed?"

Even as I said it, my eyes zeroed in on her hands. Her gesture had been strange. The way her body was angled put her right side closer to Sebastian, but she'd gestured toward him with her left hand.

That's when I noticed the syringe held in her right hand.

"What's that?" I nodded toward the syringe while at the same time letting one leg dangle off my bed so my bare foot touched the cold floor.

She didn't raise the syringe to give me a better look, but she also didn't try to hide it either. "Just some extra steroids, to help his lungs heal faster. They were pretty badly damaged from the smoke."

I nodded, keeping my eye on the syringe. "They just administered his meds an hour ago. I'm surprised the doctors are prescribing more. He's already being given a high dose of corticosteroids. Are his injuries worse than we thought?"

One of the things I found most annoying when I'd been studying to become a nurse was the fact that so many medications looked the same. Pills were fine, but liquid medication was almost all clear. As a visual learner, it had made memorizing the different medications very difficult. However, after many hours of work I'd finally managed it.

Now, these seemingly similar medications no longer looked the same. Slight differences in the clarity and viscosity of each liquid were nearly as telling as the name on the label.

Looking at the syringe now, I didn't know exactly what it held, but the liquid inside was definitely too thin to be corticosteroids like Administrator Constella claimed.

Our eyes met.

We both moved at the same time. She lunged for Sebastian while I dove at her.

Sometimes being small had advantages. I could move quickly in tight spaces.

I grabbed her arm when the syringe was only inches from Sebastian's chest. The two of us tumbled to the floor together. I landed on my back in the space between the beds with Administrator Constella's weight on top of me.

She still held the syringe. Realizing her plan had failed, she changed tactics and plunged the syringe down toward me instead. I caught her wrist before the needle could touch me. We fought for control of the syringe, but the position didn't give me much leverage. I could only push against her with my arms while she bore down on me with all her weight.

Slowly, my strength failed, and the needle inched closer.

"Crazy bitch," I spat through clenched teeth. My legs flailed. I accidentally kicked one of the beds, but I barely noticed the new pain in my foot.

"It's your fault," she said as she pushed the syringe closer. "You shouldn't have interfered."

"And you shouldn't have tried to kill my boyfriend."

I slammed my head forward, knocking my skull right into her nose. It always worked in movies.

While the move did have the desired result, Administrator Constella's nose gushed blood and distracted her long enough for me to grab the syringe, there were unforeseen consequences.

Slamming my head into someone else injured me as well.

My vision spun and pain blossomed all along my skull. This was definitely not helping my concussion, but even though I couldn't see straight, I could feel the cool cylinder of the syringe in my hand.

I'd at least managed that much. Now I just needed to find help.

Holding onto the bed, I rose to my feet and stumbled for the door.

Unfortunately, a broken nose wasn't a fatal injury, and the pain didn't distract Administrator Constella for long. She rushed after me, grabbing my legs to pull me back to the floor.

We grappled over the syringe. Her fingers came dangerously close to clawing out my eyes, so I sank my teeth into the back of her hand.

The taste of blood on my tongue made me draw back. It was much more unpleasant than expected and I nearly lost my grip on the syringe.

"Give up. Whatever they're paying you can't be worth it."

She clocked me with her elbow, and I felt a bruise immediately start to form under my eye.

"A brat like you wouldn't understand." She yanked my hair hard enough to pull my head to the side and managed to get her hands around the syringe.

I kicked her off me, and she crashed against Sebastian's bed. His leg swung in its traction and I flinched, hoping I hadn't made his injuries worse.

"No, I wouldn't understand. I hope I never understand the actions of people like you."

Several orange strands of my hair still hung between her fingers as she glared at me. "Don't be so self-righteous. You'd do the same thing in my position."

I never got to find out what that position actually was.

Before she could come at me again, she was suddenly yanked backward.

Sometime during our fight, it seemed Sebastian had woken up. Still stuck lying in bed, he leaned as far over the edge of the mattress as he could and locked one arm around Administrator Constella's neck in a stranglehold.

She clawed at his arm but couldn't free herself from the headlock.

Sebastian stared at me with eyes still blurry from his long bout of unconsciousness. It was obvious he'd acted more on instinct than conscious thought.

"Newt, what the hell is going on?"

I looked at him, looked at the syringe in my hand, looked at Administrator Constella, and had no idea where to start explaining.

Then, before I could utter a word, the door opened, and I was met with surprised shouts from both Damien and Gabe.

We must have made a shocking scene.

Me, sprawled over the ground with a syringe clutched in my hand.

Sebastian half falling out of his bed with his leg still in traction as he kept a stranglehold on a member of the hospital staff.

And Administrator Constella, who had completely forgotten her usually put-together demeanor to spew a series of creative curses as she tried to pry Sebastian's arm off of her.

The image was so absurd, I couldn't help but laugh as relief flooded through me.

Sebastian was awake. I'd protected him from the third attempt on his life, and simultaneously survived the second attempt on my own.

It was someone else's job to take over for a little while.

As I laughed uncontrollably, the room started spinning. Realizing what was about to happen, I flopped down on the cold hospital floor and promptly passed out.