The Key to Fear - Kristin Cast Page 0,22

actually really busy, so—”

“I’ll get those Eos lunatics, El. I promise you I will.”

“Oh,” she bit her bottom lip. “You don’t have to do it for me.”

“Of course I do,” he said, his voice softening a bit. “I want you to be safe. I want our family to be safe. In order for that to happen, Eos must be dealt with. There are things I know about Eos, Elodie.”

She dropped her forehead into her hand. What was wrong with her? Rhett was great. He’d do anything to protect her. The Key had matched them, had chosen her for him, for a reason. And she had fallen in love with him. Or at least something very close to love. They might not currently be in romancia-landia, but Elodie would help them find their way there. “Hey, Rhett, want to move our date night up? Or maybe even add another night to the schedule?”

Or blow the schedule up completely and be utterly spontaneous?

On second thought, it was probably best to ease him in slowly.

Rhett paused for so long that Elodie would have thought he’d ended the call if not for the Connected signal blinking at the bottom of her vision.

Finally, he sucked in a sharp breath. “Is something wrong?”

She shook her head automatically. “No. I just want to see you.”

There was a rustling on his end of the call before he spoke again. “Activate your camera and we can see each other right now.”

Elodie took a deep breath, plastered on a smile, and activated the videolink. The transparent gray box appeared, and Rhett came into view.

“See, that’s nice, isn’t it?” The shadows cast by Rhett’s black helmet made his prominent brow even more menacing.

Elodie sat up a little straighter and made sure to keep her smile in place. “I meant I want to see you in a fun date setting. Not while we’re both working.”

His amber eyes deepened with a squint. “You said you didn’t like it when I called you with my squad around, so I found a booth. I’m alone. My attention is on you. How is this different than date night?”

Elodie’s smile slipped.

Rhett’s brow creased. “I’m trying to do everything you want, El.”

“Yeah, no, you’re right.” She remade her smile. “I did say that I wanted you to call me when you could focus on our conversation and not be pulled in all different directions. So, thank you for that.”

The corner of his smooth lips tipped with a crooked grin and he nodded. “Anything for you.”

Elodie’s eyes dropped to the control panel. Why couldn’t she feel the way she was supposed to?

“Is your shirt wet?”

Elodie snapped her attention back to him as she ran her hand across her chest. “I don’t think—”

“Your shoulders.” He stabbed the air with his index finger. “How did your shoulders get wet? It didn’t rain this morning.”

“Oh.” She smoothed her fingers over her still damp waves. “I washed my hair. It was before this horrible nursing lesson and—”

Rhett’s wide nose wrinkled in disgust. “Why?”

She hiked her shoulders. “Hygiene? But I should have waited until after my lesson. It was terrible. I’m studying—”

From the monitor for the patient rooms, a wet cough scraped over the hum and clank of the bots and the repetitive beeping of the control panel, and crashed into Elodie.

Rhett’s eyes widened, his golden irises completely visible. “What was that?”

Elodie stilled, straining to hear past the beeps and the whirs and Rhett’s thick tenor.

Another cough struck out. Elodie flinched. Her breath released in tiny hiccups as she flicked her gaze to the patient rooms.

Rhett leaned forward. “Is someone cou—”

It was Elodie’s turn to interrupt. “I have to go.” The vidlink box emptied to gray before clearing from her vision.

She could barely breathe as she slid to the edge of her seat and waited. Nothing. She blew out a puff of air and collapsed against the unforgiving plastic. Of course it was nothing. Some bot probably got tripped up on something and—

Cough.

Elodie’s skin frosted, goosebumps springing to life across her arms. That was a cough. Undeniably so. Was a patient moving? Was a patient awake? She pulled up the live feed in each of the patient rooms.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Still.

Moving.

Elodie’s heart beat against her chest. “Holly, show me information for the new patient.”

“Sure thing.” The detailed chart appeared on screen the moment Holly responded.

Elodie read it aloud. “Patient Ninety-Two, Aubrey Masters, age eight.” She gripped the edge of her seat as she quickly looked over the first page of the chart. “It says that she’s been