Rogue Descendant (Nikki Glass) - By Jenna Black Page 0,72

Never met her in person, though, and of course never got a name.”

I nodded sagely and pretended to think it over some more. Then I raised my hands in a gesture of defeat and shook my head some more. “I still don’t have a clue. Sorry.”

Taylor gave me his card and asked me to call him if anything came to mind. Neither he nor his partner made much effort to hide the fact that they didn’t believe me. I was real glad I was the victim rather than the suspect, or I don’t think they would have let me off quite so easily. Even so, I felt their eyes on me as I retreated to the emergency room entrance, where I was able to borrow a cell phone and make a call.

There were lots of people I could have called to come pick me up at the hospital. I could have called Steph, although I wouldn’t have wanted to worry her. I could have called Anderson, who, once he heard that an unknown woman had hired some thug to kill me and presumably bury me, would have to finally see Emma for what she really was. Or I could have called any of my friends at the mansion who would have driven me home without any hints of drama or complication.

So who did I end up calling? Jamaal, of course.

As far as I knew, he was the only one of Anderson’s Liberi who knew what it was like to die, having gone through the experience at least three times already. So far, I had held myself together through sheer force of will, but once I had a moment of anything resembling privacy, I was going to fall apart, and Jamaal was the only one who would truly understand why.

“Sita’s not going to like it,” he reminded me when I called.

“I died, Jamaal. I died.” There was a tremor in my voice, and for a moment I feared I was going to fall apart in front of an audience after all. Not that people in an emergency room waiting area are all that concerned with other peoples’ distress, but it would have been embarrassing to break down in tears in front of them anyway. Especially when I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get myself under control any time this century.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Jamaal said after a brief hesitation.

He hung up before I could thank him. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe slowly and deeply to calm myself. After my last experience with death, I should have known better.

It wasn’t truly dark when I closed my eyes. The fluorescent lighting created a golden red glow behind my closed lids that was nothing like the darkness of death. My adrenal glands didn’t appreciate the difference, however, and terror shot through me from head to toe. I gasped and opened my eyes, my heart hammering, my skin clammy with sweat.

“Are you all right, dear?” asked the nice old lady who’d loaned me her phone.

I plastered on what I was sure was a patently false smile. “I’m fine,” I told her. “Thanks for letting me use your phone.”

Her brow furrowed with concern, and I could see I had one more name I could add to the list of people who hadn’t believed me when I’d said I was fine today. Of course, I didn’t know her name, so it would be hard to add to the list.

The thought struck me as funny, and I knew that my body was trying to find another outlet for all the turmoil I was holding inside. I had successfully blocked the hysterical tears that wanted to rise up, but the inappropriate laughter almost had its way with me. A sound reminiscent of a bark escaped my lips before I changed it into a fake cough and clamped down even harder on my emotions.

“I’m going to wait for my ride outside,” I said, then turned on my heel and practically sprinted for the exit. I knew I was being rude to the little old lady, but if I hadn’t gotten myself away from her, I was sure all my walls were going to crack and I would make a fool of myself in front of everyone.

I had kind of forgotten I’d gotten such an early start to my day because of the predicted weather front coming through. One step out of the emergency room doors was all it took to remind me.