Reaver… right. The fallen angel who had helped in the big battle last month. Except, apparently, he was no longer fallen. Still, what did any of this have to do with Kynan?
Carefully, the medical team turned the angel chick onto her stomach. Eidolon’s fingertips feathered over two scarlike slashes between her shoulder blades. “Definitely angel.” He glanced over at Lore. “These are wing anchors.” He continued, smoothing his long fingers down her spine to probe the bolt’s entrance wound. Before Lore’s eyes, flesh and bone began to mend. “Page Doctor Shakvhan. We need to get her into a healing bath.”
A healing bath sounded great to Lore, what with the way his gut was doing gymnastics and the room was spinning. “Hey, uh… could I get a little help here? Snicker-doodle isn’t the only one bleeding to death.”
Eidolon caught Lore by the arm and guided him into the room next to the female’s. “What happened?”
“Stabbed. My arm and leg.” Lore tugged off his jacket. “Pretty sure I’ve got some broken ribs, too.”
“Gods, you’re as bad as Wraith.” Eidolon jerked his chin toward the bed as he washed his hands in the sink. “Sit. And if you can take off your clothes, do.”
While E gloved up, Lore stripped, wincing at the tug of his muscles against his ribs and around the stab wounds. Eidolon arched an eyebrow at the pile of weapons Lore had placed next to his clothes, but he didn’t say anything.
Naked except for his boxer briefs, Lore eased onto the bed and killed time by studying a crack that snaked several feet along one gray wall, bisecting the protective symbols and letters written in blood. “Thought you guys fixed the place after all that shit last month.”
“We did,” Eidolon said, as he grabbed a towel. “But we’re still having a few issues. I’ve got contractors looking into it. The integrity of the building might have been compromised.”
Lore eyed the ceiling. “So you’re saying the building could come down on top of us?”
“Do you really think I’d keep the hospital operating if it wasn’t safe?” Eidolon wrapped the towel around Lore’s right arm, covering the tattoo that, with the exception of the lack of a personal symbol, was nearly identical to his brothers’. They’d discovered that Lore’s death touch didn’t affect Eidolon, Shade, or Wraith, but all other staff would be exposed. And since the exposure would be accidental, the Haven spell, which prevented violence and intentional injury inside the hospital, wouldn’t offer any protection.
“I dunno,” Lore said, which earned him a dirty look. Touchy. “So, aren’t angels, even fallen ones, sort of immortal?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you bother fixing her, then? She’ll heal on her own.”
“I want answers, and I don’t want to wait. The weapon Tayla used could put an angel on her ass for years.”
Lore frowned. “Why did Tayla just happen to be in possession of something that can take down a fallen angel?”
“Because she’s one of Kynan’s bodyguards.”
Bodyguards? What a *. “And Kynan needs protection, why?”
“Because The Aegis are a bunch of paranoid drama queens.” Eidolon tore open a packet of gauze. “Except in this case, it looks like their paranoia was justified.”
“Why would fallen angels be a threat to him?” When Eidolon said nothing, Lore cursed. “Can you at least tell me why it is that only angels can harm him?”
“And fallen angels,” Eidolon said, which wasn’t the answer to his question, but Lore had a feeling it was all he was going to get from his brother. Eidolon wheeled a tray containing various medical tools to the side of the bed. “So what were you doing with Kynan, anyway?”
“Just trying to make amends.”
Eidolon let out a dubious snort, and inside, Lore tensed. He needed his brother to buy his innocence.
“I’m serious.”
“So you’re saying this has nothing to do with Gem.” Eidolon pinched Lore’s flesh near his shoulder blade. “Hold still. This is going to hurt.”
Relieved that Eidolon’s suspicions were misplaced, Lore relaxed. “Yeah, I’m saying—ouch! Fuck!”
“I warned you.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Do you want me to patch you up, or not?”
“Are you this rude to all your patients? Or just long-lost brothers?”
Eidolon cleared his throat. “Who called who an asshole?”
If the shoe fits… “Whatever. Do I need surgery?”
“Nope. The lacerations are shallow, and nothing was hit that I can’t fix right here.” He picked up an evil-looking instrument off the tray. “A little sting….”
Lore nearly came off the damned table. Little sting, his ass. “Why aren’t you just doing the heal thing with your gift?”