Demon’s Dream (High Demon #6)(15)
Author: Connie Suttle

"Could be anyone. Someone who didn’t die or get captured when the pirates, the Schuuls and their cronies went down," Lok said, taking the projectile from Aurelius.

"They were likely aiming for her heart," Tory muttered angrily. "I don’t think for a moment they only intended to wound."

"And they were likely following a trail, started by those two women at the clinic," Gavril agreed. "A few well-placed questions and here we are. If I could kill them," his eyes were beginning to turn red.

"Child, calm yourself, you will not do Reah or the baby any good by contemplating the murder of idiots," Dee said.

"The Larentii has placed a shield around the plantation for two clicks in every direction," Lendill and Norian walked into the plantation’s kitchen. "How is Reah doing?"

"Karzac, Kevis and Renegar are tending her now. She didn’t lose much blood since Nefrigar showed up so quickly. Here’s the bullet." Gavril held it out to Lendill.

"I don’t think I’ve seen one of these since I started working for the ASD nearly two hundred years ago," Lendill said, turning the bullet in his fingers.

"We not find anything," Farzi reported. He, Nenzi and their six brothers trooped in. They’d all gone to lion snake and went out looking that way. Norian actually smiled. He figured that if they’d found the culprit, whomever it was would have been bitten quickly.

"Do we keep her here or move her?" Lendill asked.

"I don’t like the idea of moving her," Gavril objected. "The Larentii has protected the plantation, and we can place guards here just as easily as anywhere else."

"We’ll keep her here, then, but what if she skips away?" Aurelius had already seen her skip earlier.

"We’ll have to impress upon her how dangerous that is," Ry appeared with his usual entourage of Corolan and Erland.

"Why don’t you do that? I don’t think she’s as angry with you as the rest of us." Tory was definitely depressed. "I asked Raedah and Tara to come, but the moment their husbands heard that Reah was a target, they refused to consider it."

"Typical," Lok grumbled.

"All is well," Renegar walked in, ducking slightly to get through the kitchen doorway.

"Lands, is that?" Mathilde stared up at him.

"Yes," Renegar smiled, his white teeth a contrast against sky-blue skin.

"I never thought to see one," Mathilde laughed and clapped her hands.

"You have now seen two." Nefrigar appeared at Renegar’s side. "My thanks," he nodded to Ren. "I was too angry to tend her properly."

"Understandable," Ren agreed. "I will come again if needed."

Nefrigar nodded gratefully to the other Larentii, who disappeared.

"Can we see her now?" Gavril asked.

"She is sleeping, but yes," Nefrigar said. The kitchen cleared out.

"I’ve placed a healing sleep and she’s come out of it twice, so Renegar placed the last one," Karzac informed everyone who’d walked quietly into Reah’s room.

* * *

A moan woke me. It took several ticks to determine it was my own. A hand stroked my face gently. I didn’t want to open my eyes. "Hungry, my little beauty? Thirsty?" The voice wasn’t immediately recognizable. "It doesn’t matter. We’ll get there, someday." The fingers were warm against my skin. "I’ll be back," the voice told me softly. I slept again.

"Reah? Love, wake now. You should eat." This time I recognized the voice. Lok. An arm was slipped behind my shoulders and I was lifted into a sitting position while someone else placed pillows behind my back. My eyes finally opened. Lok’s black eyes were peering worriedly into mine. "Thank the stars," he sighed. "Love, you need to eat. You’ve slept the clock through."

"I don’t feel good," I lifted my right hand and laid it across my belly.

"Get her head down," Doctor Halivar arrived and handed out orders. My head was bent as low as they could get it. "Breathe, Reah. Deep breaths," Kevis instructed. I did that until the nausea went away. "Better," Kevis said. "We have broth here. Try to drink as much as you can." I felt helpless as Lok held the small bowl up and let me sip from it. Falchani did that all the time—sipping from bowls. Doing so was a great time-saver.

"There," Lok caressed my face after I’d consumed half of what they’d brought to me.

"You look pale," Kevis said. "If you get hungry, or want anything to drink, let us know. The wound is healed, thanks to Renegar, but you’ll be weak for a couple of days."

"Ren was here?" I was unconscious and hadn’t seen him. I barely remembered Nefrigar coming.

"He was here," Kevis smiled. Smiled. The sun might rise in the west, next.

"I love Ren," I sighed, flopping my head back on the pillow.

"He knows," Kevis was still smiling.

"Good. Who shot me, and with what?"

"You should not worry over such things at the moment. Get your strength back and tell Kevis what is wrong." Lok blinked black eyes at me.

"You have such a nice mouth," I said, reaching up with my right hand to touch it. He kissed my fingers.

"Everything about my Reah is perfect," he replied, leaning in to kiss my forehead, too. "Do what the doctor tells you, snowcat. We want you back soon."

"You know, I’m not even going to argue with you about that."

"Good. I love you. I just inconveniently forgot that for a while. Rest, love. Perhaps you will eat dinner with us later." Lok walked out of my bedroom, leaving me alone with Kevis Halivar.

"I was contemplating bringing in a nurse for you, and then had second thoughts," he held up a hand as I started to protest. "Even if it were the best and most trustworthy person in either Alliance, you would still be upset and unduly worried."

"Nobody ever listens to me," I grumped. "I told you after I skipped away from your clinic the first time that your nurse was a problem. Did you listen? Of course not."

"I know now I should have paid more attention. But you have to realize that most of my patients aren’t the most lucid or accurate. I hear complaints from them often."

"If any of the complaints had to do with Ceerah, then they were probably valid complaints." I watched as Kevis Halivar settled himself on a chair beside my bed. He wore an expensive, green knit shirt that went well with his eyes, and khaki slacks with carefully placed creases. His shoes, too, would have cost at least a thousand credits. He looked very tailored and likely perfect if he were about to have a session with one of his wealthy clients. I wasn’t one of those. As Ceerah had so aptly put it, I was a charity case, dressed in cotton pajama bottoms and a thin-strapped stretchy shirt.