Omega The Girl in the Box - By Robert J. Crane Page 0,35

right?”

“No fire,” I said, as he made his way around the bed and over to me. “Just a lot of property damage that resulted in a house caving in.”

Zack brushed his fingers over my forehead. “Did you get hurt?”

“Not bad,” I said, and ran my fingers through my hair. They came back coated in white dust, and I coughed involuntarily. “I did inhale a few rooms worth of plaster, though, so if I spit out a whole wall later tonight, you’ll know why.”

“I can’t believe Ariadne sent Clary with you,” Zack said, stroking my hair, brushing the dust out of it. “Everyone knows that guy is an idiot.”

“A useful idiot at times, though,” I said.

“You’re not mad at him?” Zack looked inquiring.

“Oh, I’m super pissed,” I said. “I’m thinking about killing him, actually, and I don’t tend to think about that, ever.” Zack raised an eyebrow. “Not seriously,” I added. “But it would be satisfying to smack him around for a while.” I nodded. “And I did, actually. I think we understand each other now.”

Zack looked at me, wide eyed. “You...smacked Clary around? Like, really did?”

“Yeah. Like, I really did. And we’re good now.”

“And he didn’t...splatter you all over a wall?”

I slapped his shoulder lightly. “He’s scared of me. We’re good.”

Zack thought about it for a moment and gave a slight shrug. “I don’t blame him.”

“Would you two please take your pitiful necking activities out of my medical unit?” Dr. Perugini bustled over. “There are sick people here, and if I have to listen to any more of your banter, I will be one of them.”

“You’ve got a great bedside manner, Doc,” I said with a smile. “Did you learn that when you worked for La Cosa Nostra?”

“Oh, you are thinking you are funny!” She jabbed a finger at me as she prodded at Scott with her stethoscope. “But let me tell you something, the disasters you bring me are not funny, they are sad.”

“Will everyone be all right?” I asked.

“Does it look like I have examined everyone yet?” She wagged her finger at me again. “Your brother is fine. Cosmetic damage will heal in the next day or so, but he doesn’t look so pretty until then.” She looked down at Scott. “What happened to this one?”

“Internal and external bleeding,” I said. “Will he be all right?”

“Away from me,” she said, waving me off. “Go to the corner, neck for a few minutes, then come back when I am done.”

“How about your office?” I asked. “We could—”

“Away!” She flailed an arm at me.

“She seems more uptight than usual,” Zack said as we made our way over to Reed’s bed. “Seriously, though, physical stuff aside, how are you holding up?”

“I’ll be all right once I get a shower and...” I let my voice trail off as I pulled my jacket off. It was ruined, the black leather torn in several places. “Bleh. I should have known better than to wear something I actually liked on a mission.”

“Your gun,” Zack said and pointed.

I looked down to where he had pointed, to the holster under my arm, and I pulled out my pistol. The barrel was bent at a ten-degree angle, either from one of the times I was hit or one of my landings. “Damn. I liked this one, too.”

“You didn’t use it?” Zack asked.

I looked at the black finish. “No. I didn’t even draw it. Guess I was too focused on subduing the prisoner.”

Zack raised an eyebrow. “People tend to get pretty subdued when you put a few bullets in them, especially if they’re a meta and can heal from that sort of thing.”

I slid the wrecked gun back in the holster. “They also tend to die sometimes, in case you don’t remember that certain girl—”

“Andromeda?” Zack’s mood shifted. “Kinda hard to forget.”

“Yeah.” I tried to think of something happier. “Oh. I saw Dr. Sessions earlier today. He’s discovered something...interesting.”

“Oh?” Zack’s face locked into a grimace. “What’s that? A new way for you to kill people?”

“Ah, no. The opposite, actually.” I smiled at him. “He can manufacture a suit for you that will allow you to touch my skin.”

“A suit?” A raised eyebrow again. “Like with a tie?” He tugged at the bottom edge of his coat.

“No, like...” I eased closer to him, and stopped when I realized I was covered in dust. “Like a plastic one that adheres to your body. Like...skintight.”

He frowned, his brow crumpling. “Like spandex? So I can dress like a superhero?”

“No,” I said. “Like...skintight thin

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