The Shadows (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #13)(137)

Her knock was quiet, an opportunity for a no-reply either because nobody was there (score!) or they were busy helping someone else (sad, but a relief, too) or so engrossed in work they didn’t hear her (which was like leaving a voice mail for someone you didn’t really want to speak with anyway).

Doc Jane opened up. And did a whoa-hey! recoil. “Selena, hi.”

She lifted her palm up lamely. “Hi.”

There was a pause. And then the doctor said, “Is this a social thing or do you need…”

“You’re probably pretty busy, right.”

“Actually, after having been slammed for about three days straight, I’ve just been catching up on medical records.” The female eased back. “Come on in if you like.”

Selena braced herself. Stepped over the threshold. Tried desperately not to look at that exam table.

Meanwhile, Doc Jane went over and sat down on a rolling stool, folding her white coat around herself and crossing her legs. The scrubs she had on underneath were blue. Her Crocs were red.

Her eyes were forest green. And grave.

Selena started to walk around, but everywhere she looked, all she saw were glass-fronted stainless-steel cabinets with torture instruments in them. Rattled, she eyed the door to the corridor, which was shutting slowly, silently, on its own.

Like the lid of a coffin.

“Hey,” Doc Jane said, “I was just going to go stretch my legs. You want to join me for a couple of laps around the gym?”

“Oh, God, yes. Thank you.”

The pair of them went out together, heading down passed a number of doors and many, many yards of corridor. When they got to their destination, Doc Jane opened the heavy steel panel and turned on the caged ceiling lights.

“I know it’s weird, but I love this place,” Jane said. “The wood with that beautiful honey-yellow color and everything smells like floor cleaner. Which is kinda nuts, because I hate chemicals in the air or on things.”

As the doctor started them walking around the far edge of the basketball courts, Selena was pretty sure that the pace was kept slow on purpose.

They’d made it down the short side, under the hoop, and through the left turn to head along the bleachers before Selena said anything.

“I think…” Tears came to her eyes and she realized she was terrified.

“We have all the time you need,” Doc Jane said softly.

Selena wiped under both eyes. “I’m afraid to talk about it. Like if I do…”

“Are you having some symptoms?”

She couldn’t speak. But found herself nodding. “I think … yes.”

Doc Jane made an mmm-hmmm sound. “Do you want to tell me what they are?”

Selena put out her hand, the one that had gotten frozen on the doorknob, and flared her fingers wide. As she flexed things open and closed, her mind went on a wild ride of Are they worse? Are they better? Are they the same?

“Your hands?” When all she did was nod again, Doc Jane asked, “Anywhere else?”

At least this time she could shake her head.

“Do you remember,” the doctor said, “when an attack came before, whether or not you had any prodromals?”

“What does that mean?”

“Any sort of advance warning?”

Selena brushed at her eyes again and wiped her hands on the pants Trez had taken off her body no more than a half hour before. With a surge of agony, she wanted to go back to that moment, back to the time before her disease had started talking again.

“I don’t know. I don’t remember ever noticing anything. But before … I used to ignore it as much as I could. I didn’t want to think about it.” She glanced over at the doctor. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come back down to see you, you know, after I…”

Doc Jane batted at the air. “God, girl, don’t worry about it. There are no hard-and-fast rules, and you have to do what feels right. People need to direct their own lives.”

“Is there anything we can do for me? Anything … we should do?”

The healer took her time in answering. “I’m going to be straight with you, okay?”

Ah, yes. Nothing was available. “I’d appreciate it.”

“For the last forty-eight hours, there have been a lot of people searching for solutions. Manny’s reached out to his human contacts. I’ve talked with Havers. Rehv headed up to the symphath territory—and I got a text from iAm saying that he went to the s’Hisbe.”

“Nothing?”

“Havers is only aware of patients who struggle with localized episodes, like arthritis flare-ups that hit hands or knees, hips or shoulders. Nothing with the systemic symptoms as severe as you present with. He treats the patients with anti-inflammatories and painkillers—even though he’s tried some human drugs, he hasn’t had any breakthroughs of note when it comes to prevention or cure. And neither the symphaths nor the Shadows have any familiarity with the issue.”

Management. That was the best she could hope for.

“Can you tell me how much time I have?”

Doc Jane shook her head. “I can check your inflammatory markers. But I don’t really have anything to compare them to—and the attacks come on fast, from what I understand. That suggests a sudden surge, like an earthquake.”