Rafael (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter #28) - Laurell K. Hamilton Page 0,66

out of the curtains. I started to say “Look out” to the nurse holding the tray, but he moved smoothly out of the way without so much as moving any of the instruments. It also meant that the other nurse fell backward into Pierette and me, or would have except that she put up an arm and that was all the man needed to regain his balance.

“Did he hurt you?” Lillian asked.

The nurse raised his arm up. It was bleeding.

“Knife or claws?” she asked.

The man made a disdainful face. “He’s not powerful enough for claws.”

“Is he allowed to cut up the medical staff?” I asked.

“No,” she said.

The man who’d gotten cut said, “Yes.”

I looked at Lillian.

“My rule is that if you harm my staff, then we don’t work on you.”

The bleeding man said, “The rule here is if you can’t protect yourself, then you deserve to be hurt.”

She touched my leg. “Can you still feel this?”

“Pressure only,” I replied, then asked, “How do you guys get anything done if everything is a fight?”

“I’m going to start stitching you up.”

“Just tell me when you start, I don’t want to startle and make you drop a stitch,” I said. I tried to concentrate on the curtain that the nurse had just come out of, and then I looked at his arm. “Why aren’t you healing?”

“Silver,” the nurse said, and he didn’t seem offended by it. I’d have been pissed.

“Why did he cut you?” I asked.

“I’m starting now, Anita,” Lillian said.

“Do it, doc,” I said.

I felt the pressure of the needle and then that unsettling sensation of it starting to pull through the skin. It wasn’t sharp, so it didn’t technically hurt, which I was grateful for, but just feeling the needle go through my skin made my stomach roll a little. I held tighter to Pierette’s hand and it helped.

“Why did he cut you?” I asked again.

“Diego,” Claudia said from where she was standing over us. Apparently, she didn’t plan on any more stumbling nurses getting past her to Pierette.

I said, “Diego, why did he cut you?”

“He’s an asshole.”

“Besides that,” I said, and smiled before Lillian started tightening the stitches in my thigh. My stomach rolled again.

“Big baby can’t take a few stitches, says I hurt him on purpose.”

Claudia said, “Painkiller doesn’t work on us.”

“I’ve had stitches with no drugs, it hurts a lot.” I tried to focus on how much better this was than that. It really was better.

“Did you hurt him on purpose?” Pierette asked.

“Not yet,” Diego said.

Lillian was tugging on the stitches, which made me too aware of the hard thread going through my skin. My stomach clenched and tried to do a flip-flop at the same time. I squeezed Pierette’s hand tighter.

Diego drew a knife out from under his scrubs and moved toward the curtain. He moved just enough of the curtain to slide back through and said, “Let’s try that again, Pedro.”

Claudia said, “Pedro is an asshole.”

“He’s a bully,” Lillian said as she finished tugging my skin back together. My stomach did another roll and I squeezed harder on Pierette’s hand. She leaned down and whispered, “You’re going to break bones, my . . . Anita.”

I stopped squeezing and would have let go of her hand, but she held on. “It’s okay, Anita, you’ll get used to your new abilities.”

“I pulled a man’s arm off; how do I get used to that?”

“Time,” Claudia said. She knelt so that I wouldn’t have to crane my head up at her. Her face was all sympathy and something more, shared grief I think, as if me struggling with my issues had raised old ghosts for her. Had she torn someone apart like that, by accident? I wanted to ask, but staring into her brown eyes, seeing the pain in them made me hesitate. Bad memories shared isn’t always better; sometimes it just spreads the misery around but doesn’t lighten it for anyone.

“There, all done,” Lillian said. Her voice made me look at her smiling, aged face. I looked at the peacefulness in her eyes and envied her. Would I ever feel as peaceful inside as she looked?

“Thanks, doc,” I said. “Anyone have a T-shirt I can borrow? I’d rather not wear this much blood all night.”

“We might have some scrubs.”

“I’d really prefer a shirt, but if nothing else, I’d really prefer to be less bloody.”

“I’ll go see what I can find.” She went with the male nurse and his tray of instruments in tow like his only job was to