It was like drowning and screaming underwater, where no one could see or hear you. Where no one could—
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Kallia gasped, the breath thrown back into her. The light of the room nearly blinded her as she edged back from the hospital bed, bumping into another, Aaros behind her, grasping at her elbows.
When her vision cleared enough to peer over his shoulders, she saw the mayor with a few other judges in tow, looking every bit as disgruntled about her presence. Only this time, they weren’t the least bit surprised.
“Move away,” Mayor Eilin ordered. “Not even you can hide her sabotage.”
“What are you talking about? She’s done nothing except try to help,” Demarco gritted out. “Which is a lot more than you pointing fingers.”
As they squabbled, Kallia’s heart raced in every direction, as if fighting for a way out of the very confines of her chest. Her skin flushed, but icy sweat dripped down the back of her neck. There was no unseeing what she’d found in Juno’s head. For a moment, she had felt, tasted, lived something truly terrible.
“What happened?” Aaros whispered, but she couldn’t answer. She inhaled and closed her eyes, letting her mind stitch its ripped edges back together.
You are not allowed to break. Kallia clenched and unclenched her fists, repeating it like a prayer. The only one she knew. Not for them.
Her insides still tremored when she raised her head, her expression one of cooled grace. “You gentlemen are determined to make me stand trial, even in a hospital wing.” She stepped out of Aaros’s hold, grasped at Demarco’s shoulder to bring herself forward. These were her wolves to fight. “Have some respect.”
“Don’t pretend you’re innocent,” the mayor fumed. “We go off to inspect what’s going on with that ruddy bell tower, and this is what we come back to? What were you even doing, standing over them like that?”
“I was trying to help them. But sure, blame me,” she said through her teeth. “This has nothing whatsoever to do with your incompetence.”
Mayor Eilin’s face reddened. “And where exactly were you when these contestants fell?”
Her blood boiled as her chin tilted toward the third bed. “It wasn’t only contestants.”
“Irrelevant.”
Before Kallia launched herself at him, someone stayed a hand against her back. Demarco, just as irritated, said, “She was with me.”
A snort erupted from the judges. “Doing what, I imagine?”
At that, Kallia’s fingers curled into talons at her side, while Demarco’s hand fell from her back. Without a word, he neared Judge Bouquet, calmly and sure-footed, as though he were walking up to shake his hand. The judge barely had enough time to wipe his sneer off before Demarco’s fist cracked against the old man’s jaw, sending him to the floor.
“This town, I swear.” Demarco sounded like cold murder itself. He regarded the others, who instinctively backed away. “There’s clearly something wrong happening here. How about you worry about that, before someone else gets hurt.”
“Someone else? There are more?” The doctor watched with keen interest, blatantly ignoring Judge Bouquet’s wails as he cupped his face.
At the interruption, the mayor’s furious scowl deepened. “And just who are you, miss?”
“Zarose, you’re all useless. She’s the doctor.” Aaros scoffed, just as Demarco, shaking out his knuckles, suddenly stilled.
“No,” he whispered, realization creeping into his voice. Horror dawning. “She isn’t.”
Unease prickled the air as Kallia turned to the woman. Everything about her seemed to have transformed in a second. The professional air and the stress lines across her brow vanished, easy as a mask thrown off. Her posture straightened, adding a few inches to her frame. With a short hum, she pulled back her hair and pocketed the glasses that hid pert cheekbones and eyes lined to the ends like wings.
“For the record, I never said I was the doctor. Though I’m flattered you assumed,” she said, her voice a much lighter drawl. The way she held out her hand was more of a mockery than a courtesy. “Lottie de la Rosa, from the Soltair Source.”
Demarco’s face lost even more blood, if it were possible. The warm hue of his skin, somewhat sickly now.
“Excuse me?” The mayor’s mouth dropped at the woman’s declaration. Desperately, he began snapping for the pair of guards by the door, and the woman laughed as they approached her.
“You don’t want to tangle with me, boys. I’ve got immunity, thanks to your ringleader.” After scribbling down an errant thought, she blew the ink dry on the page with