away from Dr. Ryan Angel-Baby St. Cloud.”
But Bane had the crystal-clear feeling that it was far too late for that. And now that it was almost dawn, the overwhelming need to get back to her pushed him out of his reverie and back on his bike.
He needed to see his…angel.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jasmine, aged three, was a tear-streaked bundle of unhappiness whose mother had brought her into the clinic for a possible ear infection. Ryan tried to cover her wince when the teenaged mom carried her child, screaming and kicking, into the exam room.
Maybe coming to work after only a few hours of sleep—not to mention the werewolf attack—hadn’t been the best idea.
Especially adding in the necromancer attack—with zombies.
Or finding out that she, herself, might be part angel… Yeah. It would have been understandable if Ryan had said no when the clinic admin, not knowing anything about Ryan’s fake family emergency, had begged her to come in, since two other doctors were out with the flu.
And now here was Jasmine, clearly in pain, who needed her doctor to pay attention to her, rather than to Ryan’s own increasingly bizarre Grimms’ Fairy Tale of a life.
“Hey, sweet pea. Let’s see if we can help you feel better, okay?” She automatically dropped into her soothing doctor voice. “Can you sit up on the table for me, like a big girl?”
Big girl or no, Jasmine was having none of it. She shook her head, which made her wince and cry even harder.
“That’s okay. You sit here with Mommy while Dr. Ryan has a quick look into your ears.”
Sure enough, it was a raging ear infection. A Mom Diagnosis was rarely wrong in cases like this.
“We’re going to have to put her on the pink stuff,” she told Mom, who was nodding.
“She’s had that before, about six months back. I wish she’d stop getting these awful ear infections. This is the fourth one she’s had!” Mom—Tyra—blew out a sigh and snuggled her little girl. Ryan glanced at the chart again. Though only seventeen herself, Tyra had been diligent about vaccinations, well-child checks, and bringing Jasmine in when she was ill. Ryan had met a lot of adult parents who weren’t as careful.
“She’ll be fine,” she told Tyra. “Her fever’s a little high, though. We don’t like to see 101.5 last very long. Alternate the acetaminophen and the ibuprofen—baby Tylenol and the baby Motrin—like it says on this sheet, and Jasmine should be feeling better very soon.”
Suddenly, the child sat up straight, stopped crying, and stared up at Ryan, the tears glimmering in her lashes. She held out her hand and pointed one chubby little finger. “Shiny!”
Tyra laughed. “That’s her new favorite word. Everything is shiny. Tin foil, the car window in the sunlight, whatever. It’s all shiny.”
Ryan smiled at Jasmine. “That’s a great word!”
But before Ryan could move on to her next patient, the child lunged at her, pushing free of her mom’s grip. Ryan dropped the chart on the floor and caught the girl before she took a header.
“Wow. Okay. You have to be careful, sweetheart.”
“Jasmine!” Tyra patted her chest over her heart. “I swear she’s going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”
But Jasmine wasn’t paying attention to her mother or to what Ryan was saying. The child put her hands on Ryan’s cheeks and stared into her eyes.
“Shiny,” she whispered. “Shiny lady.”
Ryan smiled, but suddenly she felt a powerful sensation of warmth, and it felt as if something inside her was reaching out to the little girl. Something warm and comforting.
Something…magic?
Whatever it was, it surged between them, carried from Ryan’s face to Jasmine’s hands, and the little girl’s sturdy little body, which had been tense with pain, relaxed completely.
Jasmine’s eyes opened wide. “Oh, that feels me better, shiny lady.”
“It’s Doctor Ryan, Jazz, and you need to come to Mommy now,” Tyra interrupted, giving Ryan an apologetic smile and taking her child.
“Doctow Wyan feeled me better, Mommy,” Jasmine babbled, and Tyra gave her a distracted pat.
“Yes, I know. Let’s go get your medicine now, okay? And then you can have some ice cream.”
Ryan suddenly jumped into action on a hunch. “Tyra, just a moment. I want to check her temp again.”
The mom looked confused, but she nodded. Ryan whipped out the thermometer and placed it to Jasmine’s forehead and then smiled up at Tyra, dropping the thermometer in her pocket. “Okay. Just double checking. You’re good to go. They’ll fill these prescriptions up in front at our pharmacy desk.”
Tyra bit