I asked Shame. We were standing shoulder to shoulder so the receptionist couldn’t hear us.
He tipped his head, thinking it over. “If he made it this far, there’s a good chance he’ll recover. Several of the Authority doctors work here. They’d know him, and know what to do with severe magical injuries.”
I nodded. That would have to be good enough for now. I didn’t know a lot about Kevin’s personal life, like if he had family in the area. I pulled my book out of my pocket and made a note to check on him tomorrow, if I could. I walked back over to the receptionist’s desk.
“Where are the stairs?” I asked. She pointed down the hall and I started off in that direction.
“You’re kidding, right?” Shame asked. “There’s a perfectly good elevator right over there.”
“Take the elevator. I don’t care.”
Shame scowled. “How about I just make you angry again? That coat makes you look fat.”
“Even more reason to take the stairs.”
“Fucking hell.” He sighed dramatically. “I hate you, Beckstrom.”
“Hold on to that,” I said. “You know, because anger will get you there.”
Shame rolled his shoulders and I heard more bone grind than I should. Like a fricking walking corpse, he still had his hood of his coat up, the shadows catching moss green against his sallow skin.
Maybe I should make him check into the hospital. Maybe he was sicker than I thought. Maybe the magic Chase had used on him, and the magic he had used to help me save Zayvion, had done something more permanent than he wanted to admit.
I found the door to the stairs and pushed it open. It was only three flights up, and I did that every day at home. But I was a little worried about Shame.
An elevator probably would be his best choice. “You know I won’t get killed between here and the third floor,” I said.
“Yep. Because I’m gonna be there to protect you. Walk.”
I shook my head and started up the stairs. I did not need his protection. There was no magic, so it wasn’t like someone would magically attack me. Which meant I could get killed only the old-fashioned way—with guns, knives, strangling, beating. Okay, maybe it was nice to have Shame with me. I could handle myself just fine physically—even better now that I’d been training—but it never hurt to have an ally in a fight.
We didn’t say anything as we climbed. Shame walked behind me, and I listened for his breathing, which remained good, strong, and his footsteps, equal to my pace.
He didn’t sound like someone who hovered one breath away from the shambling dead. Shame knew how to handle pain.
“So which doctors are a part of the Authority?” I asked on the second floor.
“Not saying.”
“Why? Is it that big of a secret?”
“Enough that I don’t want to talk about it in a stairwell with this much echo. Would have told you in a nice quiet elevator, though.”
I grinned. “Bitch, bitch, bitch.”
We made it to the top of the stairwell and I opened the door, then followed the signs to the reception area.
Shame wasn’t breathing hard, didn’t even seem like he’d broken a sweat. He did, however, shove his hands in the pockets of his coat and hunch up his shoulders like he was enduring a hailstorm.
I gave him a questioning look.
“It’s just . . . babies.” He said it like most people say snakes or spiders or tax collectors.
I had no idea what his problem was. “You’re afraid of babies?”
“Shut up.” He strode past me to the reception desk and, I noted, stayed far enough away that the light wouldn’t quite clear the shadows beneath his hood. “Violet Beckstrom,” he said. “Could we see her?”
The woman at the counter looked sixteen, the tight curls of her black hair pulled back in a flowered headband that make her deep brown skin burnish gold.
“She’s resting. There isn’t a restriction on visitors, though. Are you family?”
“I am.” I stepped ahead of Shame. “And he’s a friend.”
“She’s been given some painkillers, so she might be sleeping. We’d like her to get as much rest as possible, so if she is asleep, you could come back later.” She pointed down one of the halls that branched off from the main hall. “Down there. Room 3243.”
“Thank you,” I said.
We headed down the hall and I noted Shame walked closer to me, almost brushing my shoulder with his.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered. “I won’t let the scary babies hurt you.”