Proof of Life (The Potentate of Atlanta #4) - Hailey Edwards Page 0,73
just sort of…hung there.
As soon as the full weight of my foot dangled, a lightning bolt of nerve-singeing agony struck me in the brain ten times harder than Ambrose ever dreamed possible.
The lights in my head blinked once and then went out.
Fifteen
“I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Interesting.”
That last voice sliced through the fuzzy cocoon between my ears, and I cranked open my eyes.
“Linus?” I squinted at the blurry ceiling. What was it with ceilings lately? Were they stalking me? “What are you doing here?”
“I came to offer my assistance, but it appears you don’t require any.”
“Grier?” I unstuck my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “Did she…wave her…magic wand?”
“I have one of those?” She made a wistful sound. “How cool would that be?”
“More like a magic churro,” Lethe scoffed. “Instead of pixie dust, you sprinkle sugar everywhere you go.”
“Midas?” I twisted my head but couldn’t spot him. “Where…?”
“Right here.” He jogged into the room. “I was updating Mom on your condition.”
That all but guaranteed she would put in an appearance and gang up on me with Abbott riding shotgun.
“I broke my ankle, not my head.” I swatted away cobwebs. “Why is my brain so cottony?”
Silence enveloped the room, and all eyes turned toward Linus, which couldn’t be a good thing.
“Ambrose healed you,” he said, when no one else made a peep. “He also spoke through you.”
“That last part sounds less than ideal.” I braced for the worst. “What did he say?”
“To set the ankle so he could heal it.”
“That’s it?” I glanced around but didn’t spot him. “What did he say exactly?”
Not since Linus inked a binding tattoo that joined Ambrose to me had he verbally communicated with anyone. Even when he took control of my body to keep me safe while the coven’s charm sent me walking into the city streets unconscious in the daytime, he had held his tongue. He and I couldn’t talk directly, not precisely, so I was as curious as I was incredulous and, well, terrified to have lost control over myself.
“‘Set the bone,” he quoted, “and I will mend her.’”
“That’s it?” I watched him hard. “That’s all?”
“That’s it,” he assured me. “That’s all.”
“I don’t get it.” I mustered the courage to finally look at my ankle. “I’m healed?”
“Yes,” Abbott said, clearly disturbed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“He didn’t ask for a favor or for chocolate or my immortal soul?” I clarified. “He wanted nothing?”
Linus didn’t answer, but the amusement in his eyes told me he was allowing me to process it all.
“I don’t understand why he did it.” I was suspicious as frak about it. “And it’s not like I can ask him.”
If he could speak through me, he could manipulate my physical body. He could have said or done anything, and not many would have recognized I wasn’t the one in control. Why not press his advantage? Why not break out of the infirmary and go hunting? Why not, I don’t know, ask for a case of Amedei Porcelana or a box of La Madeline au Truffe?
The others left the room at some cue Linus must have given them while I gingerly tested my ankle.
“Your greatest fear has always been that Ambrose would influence your thoughts and actions.”
Forgetting my self-exam, I twisted onto my side to face him. “Yes.”
“Have you ever considered his ability to influence you is a two-way street? That residing in you, as a part of you, has affected him in ways we couldn’t anticipate?”
“Are you saying he’s…grown a conscience?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Linus chuckled. “I would venture that he’s grown attached to you, in more than the literal sense.”
“He has been acting weird lately,” I confessed. “I’ve been joking he wants to be a dynamic duo.”
“You fed him a considerable amount of power tonight, but he stored it, like a battery. He could have used it against you and done you irreparable harm, but he chose to reserve his strength. For this. For you.”
The other small touches throughout the night drifted to the surface of my thoughts, the way he kept feeding me extra punches of energy when I began flagging.
“This isn’t the first time he’s acted in your best interests,” Linus reminded me. “He protected you from the coven’s charm under your pillow.”
“He did.” I gave credit where it was due. “I didn’t trust his motivations then either.”
“You’re unique, Hadley. There’s never been another dybbuk, to our knowledge, who has survived longer than a year. You’re charting new