“I don’t want to muddle it up,” he said softly, the car slowing as he pulled up right before the door of an unassuming three-story building. “I’d feel better if we checked your synaptic activity levels.”
His uncertainty bothered her more than anything else, and she looked straight ahead as he turned the car off. Her gaze went to her broken nail, and her pulse throbbed at her eye and at the back of her head. Her hip was bruised, and her shoulder had been wrenched. The faint scent of gunpowder lingered in the seat cushions. Her Mantis could be cleaned and the sundry hurts in her body would mend. The damage to her mind … that’s where the darkness lay.
Seeing her unmoving, Allen set a tentative hand on her knee. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, but his smile held doubt, and she was glad when he took his hand away.
They got out at the same time, the doors shutting loud in the crisp, snowy night. Opti’s infirmary building looked like all the rest. There weren’t many Opti operatives, and their unique ailments didn’t take up much room.
Allen held the heavy glass door, and she murmured her thanks as she went in, too tired to smile at the receptionist. Allen could be personable for both of them. “Special needs,” he said by way of explanation, but Peri was already following the teal line on the floor. Allen jogged to catch up, the cadence telling her he ran regularly. She felt only a minor flash of irritation when he looped his arm in hers to slow her down. He was only a few inches taller, and that seemed odd somehow. Muscle memory never vanished, and her suspicions tightened.
“Why are you in such a hurry?” Allen said, and she forced her pace to ease.
“Sorry,” she said, and the large man in a lab coat riffling through his paperwork glanced up at them and away. The guy was tall without an ounce of fat on him, his tie loosened as if at the end of a hard day, but his face was clean-shaven—only hours ago. He’d be good at subduing unruly patients. Maybe that was why he worked nights.
Stop it, Peri. She was seeing assassins in the shadows, but all she had to go on at the moment was intuition, and it was in overdrive. “I can’t believe anyone is here,” she said when they turned the corner and the man was out of earshot. “It’s two in the morning.”
“You don’t think Frank called ahead?” he asked. The teal line made a sharp left to a glass door and window wall. Beyond it was a tiny waiting room with an efficient-looking woman in purple scrubs behind the reception counter. She’d be in a suit during normal work hours, but things relaxed on the night shift as she’d have to do everything from file the paperwork to draw blood. It was Ruth, and Peri didn’t have to fake a smile as she and Allen went in.
“Peri,” Ruth said as she stood, her relief obvious. She vanished behind a wall, and in half a second she was coming through the heavy wooden door that separated her from the waiting room. “I just heard,” she said, giving Peri a hug that was so honest Peri’s eyes shut as she basked in the other woman’s warmth. “I’m so sorry. You okay?”
Peri nodded when Ruth held her at arm’s length and searched her expression. “I’m okay. Really,” she added when the nurse looked doubtfully at Allen.
“Hi, Allen,” she said as she let go of Peri, and paranoia pinged at Ruth’s guarded tone.
“She hit her head, but it’s the proximity drafts I’m worried about,” Allen said, his tone just as telling. He didn’t like Ruth, either. “I’d like to get moving on this. Is Bill here?”
Ruth frowned, her pique obvious at his implication that she was slowing things up. “No,” she said, pushing open the heavy door and leading them back. “We’ll have you out of here in an hour, though. Get your synaptic baseline and send you home. No need to check you in.”
“Thank God,” Peri said softly, feeling the late hour all the way to her bones.
“Bill is only a few minutes out,” Ruth was saying as she led them down the hall past dark offices and diagnostic rooms. “He must have been putting in a late night.”
Peri’s gut tightened, but if it was because of Bill or the diagnostic room Ruth was ushering them into, she couldn’t tell. Allen filed in behind her to stand just inside the door.
“Jewelry off,” Ruth said brightly, moving about with quick efficiency, her short black hair swinging as she turned a soft, indulgent chair for Peri. “And your jacket. Here’s a bin for you. I’ll be right back to get your drip started. Bill wants to watch the diagnostics, so as soon as he gets here, we can get going.”