Rising Darkness (Game of Shadows #1)(5)

Justin’s voice turned hushed. “I heard about that on the news.”

She yanked open a cupboard, pulled out the coffee and a filter. She said over her shoulder, “To top it all off, I got maybe four hours’ sleep, so of course I look like shit. It’s no big deal.”

He sighed. “Look, I don’t have time to argue with you. I’ve got twenty minutes to get to work—so just promise me you’ll go get a checkup and shut up already.”

She filled the coffeepot with water, poured it into the reservoir and switched on the machine then slammed the pot onto the burner. “Seriously, Justin,” she snapped. “Do I come over uninvited to your house and tell you and Tony what to do?”

“Honey, I’m sorry,” he said in quick contrition. She startled as he put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s just—hell, even I know you’re never supposed to talk to a woman about her weight, but you’ve lost weight you couldn’t afford to lose. You were always a little bit of a thing, the original five-foot-two-and-eyes-of-blue gal.”

She gave him a grim smile as the pungent aroma of coffee filled the kitchen. “Don’t start inflicting Dean Martin songs on me again at this time in the morning, or I swear I won’t be responsible for my actions.” She pointed at him. “And that’s what I’ll tell the police when they arrive with the body bag.”

He didn’t smile back. Instead his handsome features took on a mulish expression. “I’m being serious here. You’re not looking good, Mary. You’re all bones and nerves. If you won’t have a rational conversation about it, I’ll have to make an appointment for you myself to go see Tony.”

“The hell you will.” Her smile turned to a glare.

He pulled out his cell phone, turned his back and ignored her. After a few moments he started to speak on the phone. He moved down the short hall to the living room.

Mary felt the urge to scream. Instead she blew air between her teeth, like steam escaping from a pressure cooker. She poured herself a cup of coffee and took it to the table. As she shifted a stack of magazines and mail off of a chair, she discovered the cordless phone.

She clicked it on and listened. No dial tone. The battery had gone dead. She had a cell phone, but she used it for work, and Justin didn’t have the number. She hung up the phone to recharge it and sat to put her elbows on the table, resting her forehead on the heels of her hands as she hunched over her coffee.

Her mind arrowed back to her dream. She was dreaming with more frequency and they were getting more vivid. This time the bodies of the seven creatures in the circle were translucent. Ribbons of colored light had streamed from them, flowing and moving in the air as if the creatures were some kind of alien anemone. The poison had tasted bittersweet and smelled like cloves.

She had dreamed in color several times but she had never before dreamed a smell or a taste. Was that development somehow connected to her hearing voices and seeing impossible things?

Panic tried to grab hold of her again. She flinched away from it. No, don’t go there right now. Pulling her hands down, she stretched them out in front of her and stared at her fingers. Slender and dexterous, they were an advantage in the OR, but at that moment, they looked strange, as if they belonged to someone else.

Justin walked back into the kitchen with a brisk stride. He poured himself some coffee then came over to pat her on the back as he gulped hot liquid. “Tony moved some things around. He can see you this afternoon at three. And,” he added, “I don’t trust you to go on your own so I’m leaving the office early to take you myself.”

“I was such a needy rabbit when I married you,” she said. “But hey, pre-med plus law school equals the American Dream, right? Thank God those days are gone.” Thank God she had stopped trying to create a lifestyle for herself that looked normal on the outside.

“What are you talking about, doctor girl?” Justin said. “What needy rabbit? You’re the original Marlboro Man. Except for the cigarettes, the ten-gallon hat and the penis.”

She slanted an eyebrow at him.

“Well okay, you’re quite a bit not like the Marlboro Man.” He grinned. “But you’ve got this brooding, silent hero thing going on, with a hint of something tragic in your past, except I know your past and it’s as ordinary as dirt. It’s very sexy. I’d always wanted to marry a doctor—and if you’d only had that penis . . .”

“Therapy has made you too cocky,” she said.

“Which Tony appreciates,” he told her.

She rolled her eyes. “Get out. Go to work.”

He sobered. “I’ll be back this afternoon at two thirty to pick you up. Be ready or I’ll do the he-man thing and throw you over my shoulder.”

“Quit being so damn patronizing. I’m not going.” Her mug was empty. She stood and headed for the coffeepot.

“Whatever,” Justin said, eyeing her. “I guess Tony isn’t going to care if you haven’t shaved your legs.”

“For God’s sake!” she exploded, turning on him. He scowled at her, looking as mutinous and adorable as a two-year-old. She tried to rein in her impatience. “Look, I appreciate your concern. It’s sweet of you.”

“Sweet.” He snorted.

Her expression hardened. “I’m warning you, I’m not putting up with your stubbornness and interference, and I am not going to go see Tony, of all people.”