doorway in a one-man stampede. “I’d just passed her door when I heard the crash. There was no one else in here.”
I don’t know what I was expecting to see after that bang, but finding Tinksley comatose on the floor—again—was not it. All the air in my lungs seems to expel at once, dropping me to my knees beside her as my entire body seems to freeze over.
Not again.
I can’t do this again.
There’s not a drop of blood, at least none that I can see thankfully, but still. Seeing this woman even mildly lifeless is enough to incapacitate me.
“Is she breathing?” Tigerlily questions at my back.
“She is.” I nod. For how much longer, though? “Cassius, I need you to get ahold of Ward,” I throw at my father, our eyes connecting as I drag my gaze on him.
He tips his silvered head and jets out of her room without another word, prompting Tigerlily to take his place and fall to her knees at Tinksley’s feet. “Who’s Ward?”
“Doctor Ward.” That’s all I give her. All I can give her right now.
Through my peripherals I catch the way she silently agrees, unsure of what to say, much less do. “Should we prop her head up while we wait?”
“We should. You should probably run and ask one of the boys for a bag, too. We might need it.”
Once Doctor Ward arrives, I allow him to do his thing in peace. Tigerlily remains in the room with him as an aid—in the event he needs one—but I take my leave, pacing the hallway outside her quarters instead. Cassius waits with me, posting up against the wall, arms crossed. I keep expecting him to make some sort of unsolicited commentary, but it never comes.
Thankfully.
Either he’s noted I’m not in the mood for his crap today, or he genuinely has nothing to say. I’d say the former, though, it’s likely a mix of the two. The looks he keeps throwing my way sure hints to it.
Twenty minutes tick by and still no word from the good doctor.
I was already deep in a worrisome state prior to this morning’s events, dwelling and ruminating everything Tinksley shared with me yesterday. Now? It’s infinitely worse. Conclusions, farfetched or otherwise, formulate of their own accord, bringing worst case scenarios to mind.
Was Draegan wrong this time around?
Is she deteriorating much faster than he predicted?
Is she hours from leaving me forever?
“Captain?” Doctor Ward’s voice rings out suddenly, jerking my head toward his awaiting form beneath the threshold of the doorway. “I’ve wrapped up the examination. A word, please?”
My stomach churns at his firm, somber tone, legs carrying me forward before I can offer a reply.
When I step inside, Tinksley sits on the bed with Tigerlily at her side, a glass of water held to her lips. Both women watch me amble behind the elder to the opposite end of the room. They don’t make a single move, don’t dare to speak a word—and neither do I.
I couldn’t if I wanted to; my heart’s currently jammed in my throat.
This can’t be good. It just can’t.
If the prognosis were remotely normal, he wouldn’t need or want this much space between us. Not that Tinksley wouldn’t be able to hear us if she so desired. She may only be in transition, but that doesn’t negate the fact that, if she focuses enough, she’ll pick up on every word exchanged.
“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Ward’s clear, seafoam-green eyes peer behind me at the two women boring into my back.
“All of it. What’s wrong with her?”
“Well, she’s developed an infection.”
An infection? “How is that possible?”
“Because she’s not fed. While your blood still remains in her system, there isn’t enough venom within what little she has consumed to heal her.”
Fuck.
“What type of infection is it?”
“Open wound. The blackening of her wings is a clear sign of decay. At first glance, the gashes appear scabbed as though they’re on the mend, but they’re not. Not entirely anyway. Your venom is trying to heal her, regenerating pieces of the aileron whenever it can. As I said, though—there isn’t enough which, in turn, allows bacteria to drift through the openings into the entire appendage. From what I can see without a deeper analysis, the infection is targeting not only the muscle tissue—causing her a varying range of pain—but the nerve endings as well.”
My stomach joins my heart in the tight confines of my throat, nearly choking me in the process. Heart rate thrumming in my ears,