Sapphire Nights (Crystal Magic Book 1)(40)

Feeling completely drained, Sam squeezed the frail hand in hers. “I’m here. Come back now, please.”

The doctor repeated his demand that they leave and Walker dragged her out. “You look like a ghost. We need to get food in you.”

“Give me a minute.” She slumped to the hall floor and rested her head against her knees. It wasn’t exactly classic non-fainting mode, but it was the best she could do without a chair. Her head spun, and she didn’t feel as if she had the strength to remain sitting.

A nurse brought crackers and soda. Sam dutifully nibbled and sipped.

Walker offered his hand. “Let me at least take you to the waiting room where there are chairs.”

“No, I’m good. I need to be here.” Close to Cass, close to whatever was happening between them.

Lowering his dignity, he slid down beside her. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“No, because it makes no sense. I’m a scientist. I know this. I may know more about plant anatomy than human, but I know what’s happening isn’t. . . I don’t even have a word for it. Cass is inside my head. I need to get her back into her own. Did they find drugs in her system?”

“Nothing for which they’re equipped to test,” he admitted, sounding wary. “What do you mean, she’s in your head? Do you hear voices?”

Oddly, he clenched his fists, as if a cold wind blew between them.

But she was too shocked to do more than explore her own dilemma. “No. No, it’s like. . . the part of my brain that is me has been cut off by a wall, and the wall is coming down, only it’s not that solid and feels like Cass. How does hypnosis work?”

That silenced him. Sam took deep breaths, finding it easier now. She was afraid to stand and see what they were doing to Cass. Her head ached in a vague sort of way, as if numbness was wearing off from a root canal. There was a hollow but it didn’t hurt.

“The hippies experimented with hallucinogenic drugs and hypnosis back in the day,” Walker said haltingly. “I need to do more research. If you met Cass in the restaurant and she gave you something. . .”

“Why?” Sam asked. “Why would she do that?”

“We’ll have to ask her.” He stood as the doctor left the room. “How is she?”

“Coming around. If she’s more coherent in the morning, we’ll take her to a private room. Visiting hours are all day. Why don’t you come back after she’s had a good night’s sleep?”

“May I see her again?” Sam asked, accepting Walker’s hand and standing. “I need to let her know I’ll be back.”

“You’ve helped, but don’t take too long.” The doctor strode off, leaving the nurse to let them back in again.

Sam hurried back to take Cass’s hand. Her veins were blue beneath her pale skin, but her face had color again. After squeezing her hand reassuringly, Sam rolled up Cass’s silver hair, pressed it against her skull, then fastened one of her own combs in it. “I’ll be back in the morning. We need to talk, please. There’s too much I don’t understand.”

Cass’s eyes flew open for a brief moment. “Samantha,” she said in what sounded like satisfaction. “Welcome home.”

She appeared to drift into a normal sleep. Without giving it any thought, Sam slid her hand into Walker’s, clinging to it as a lifeline as he led her out of the hospital.

“We’ll go to the wharf. It’s easier than finding somewhere fancy at this hour.” Without asking questions, he helped her into the car.

Grateful for his understanding, Sam meditated on the empty place in her head and the memories slowly infusing it. Not until they were walking on the wharf, smelling the salty air, watching the waves, did she finally breathe freely again. “The ocean is so. . . immense.”

“Puts things in perspective, doesn’t it? Sit here, just take it in, and I’ll be back with food.” His voice was warm chocolate reassuring.

Sam sensed an emptiness when he left, but she still experienced a connection with him, like a filament of invisible essence, as she had with Cass. Rather than examine that weirdness, she admired the brilliant blue shades of the ocean lapping beyond the wharf. The noise and colors of the people and shops lining the old pier fell into the background as she concentrated on the battering wind and the crying gulls. She let these new sensations wipe the slate clean, let her body relax, and began the blessed process of refilling her memory and becoming herself again.

Walker returned with a bread bowl of chowder and bags of fried seafood and slaw. “It’s tourist food, but decent.”

“I’ve never had fried food,” she said, and her heart felt lighter at the recollection. Samantha Moon had returned.

He dropped down on the bench beside her, sprawling his long legs across the planks and digging into his soup before he halted in mid-bite to stare at her. “You remembered that? Of all the things to remember, it’s fried food?”

“Lack thereof,” she corrected with a smile. “All organic, all the time, and lots of tofu. We had goats and chickens for milk and eggs. I never saw the inside of a Walmart until a friend took me when I was sixteen.”

His eyes narrowed warily. His five o’clock shadow made him look tough, but at least he wasn’t wearing his damned shades.

“I learned to curse at college,” she added, digging into the chowder.