Oh, for goodness' sake, Jordan's overreacting. Like, a lot.
"I'm fine."
It's the hundredth time I'm saying this, and yet again, he's giving me that skeptical glance. He's not believing a single word that's coming out of my mouth, is he? It's so darn frustrating that I'm about to scream. Seriously, I'm fine.
Alright. Sure. Going to the hospital after my little ordeal makes sense. I can concede this much.
Going to a private clinic owned by one of his friends, who's most likely not human and has some sort of healing ability? That's over the top! I'm not a medical emergency; give my fingers some time to warm up, and they'll be as good as new.
If anything, I'd rather go home and plop into my bed, thank you.
I swear, barging into someone's house uninvited in the middle of the night hasn't been on my bingo card, yet here we are, standing on the doorsteps.
Even though Eve rings the bell, she decides the next second that waiting for her friend's permission to enter would take too long.
"What are you doing—"
Holy cow—the crazy woman just straight out breaks the doorknob with a flick of her wrist, then drags us to the waiting room of the clinic before disappearing upstairs, where her friend's apartment is.
…Whether that friend of theirs wants to treat us or not isn't even up for debate; they'll have to.
Oh, please, Jordan! Stop looking at me like I'm about to drop dead at any given moment! I'm fine!
"Urgh."
A faint grunt makes me forget about my grievances and draws my attention to my left. Right. I might not need a healer, but James sure does. Unlike me, he looks to be on death's door, his skin having started to turn ashen.
He's currently curled up into a ball on the old Venetian-like couch, looking very much like a dying patient.
Damn it, I'm not sure how much longer the vampire can last. My blood has only been a temporary remedy, especially considering a javelin has wounded his heart. It's a miracle it hasn't yet given up beating.
"Will he be alright…?"
The daunting question leaves my lips on its own.
"Don't worry, Lucy will take good care of him. He'll be fine."
Will he, though? Somehow, I doubt it. What can his friend really do, anyway? I don't know many beings who can perform miracles, and that's something that we sure need tonight. James's state is degrading at a speed visible to the naked eye, his body turning into a real corpse.
"I've brought her!"
Eve's voice echoes, and I instinctively snap my head toward the stairs.
There we go.
Of course, Eve's dragging the poor half-asleep woman down the stairs by the hand. Lucy's still in her night gown, her disheveled hair falling into disarray on her shoulders. I don't know why that's what caught my attention first, when the white wings behind her should have been the focus. Maybe I'm too tired.
Or perhaps the extra two pairs of eyes on her cheeks are too distracting.
They do say looking at an angel's eyes is like peeking into the soul of the universe. Or an abyss that can gnaw at your worst fears, depending on the source.
Fortunately, Lucy's a young one and definitely not an archangel, or I might have lost my mind. Only two extra pairs of eyes are enough to turn me silly, never mind the thousands archangels are said to possess.
But who cares about that.
An angel.
Jordan and Eve have dragged us to an angel's dwelling.
An angel. A fucking angel.
The hell is wrong with them?!
A pat on my thigh, and I'm back down to earth. Dude, a heads-up would have been appreciated, like, very appreciated. But I know by now that Jordan isn't good with those. Take Eve, for example; the only head-up he gave me is that I should be alright, and I definitely wasn't.
Whatever. He still deserves a glare. Angels aren't something you see frequently. Heck, the one and only time I've seen one was at a major political event that took place years ago.
"Eve, I'm sleepy…"
What a soft voice. Melodious as you would expect from an angel.
"Sorry, there's an emergency. I promise I'll make up to you later. So, please?"
"Emergency? Wait. Where's the patient—oh, dear fucking Lord, he's half-dead already! What happened to him?!"
…Are angels allowed to curse at their creator? Asking for a friend.
"He's in a severe state of shock… I haven't seen a vampire in such dire condition since the vampire hunts. Seriously, what happened? No, don't tell me… those marks? It can't be!"
"Sadly, yes. We've found him crucified to a wall, with nails coated in the blood of the dead."
"Hasn't this barbaric practice been forbidden ages ago?!"
Lucy hurls as she takes James's pulse, worry making her frown and purse her lips. Or is it anger?
"…He also took a javelin in the chest for me." I force myself to speak, keeping my gaze on her as I try to ignore the discomfort her eyes stir up in the pit of my stomach. They look more like windows on infinite galaxies than eyes, if anything. "He said his heart was touched at the time. I don't know how bad it is, however."
"You've got to be shitting me!"
She sure curses a lot for an angel.
"Eve, you're coming with me. I'll need your help to stabilize him." Then, the angel pauses, turning around to throw daggers at the man sitting beside me. That's a terrifying look on such a soft-looking face. "As for you, Jordan…"
"I'm fine."
"Fine my ass! You pushed yourself way too much. You know perfectly well that going against the restrictions of this realm is tantamount to—"
"Lucy, I know myself well. I'm fine."
Jordan cuts her off.
He definitely hasn't done that on purpose so that I wouldn't hear what the angel has to say, has he? But restrictions? What restrictions has he transgressed exactly? And I don't like the idea that it seems to have been done for me.
"Yes, sure." Lucy's glare turns icier. Holy shit, she's scarier than any demon I've seen so far. "You're fine for now, but you know that won't last. Go upstairs to rest!"
"Lucy…"
One more glare, and the angel shifts her attention back to James. She visibly has no time to deal with my husband and instead hoists the unconscious vampire in her arms. Blood and dirt smear her white gown, but she doesn't seem to care. Instead, she rushes to an adjacent room, Eve in tow.
I stare at the door for an instant before turning my head back, now staring at Jordan instead.
His hand is still on my thigh.
"Shall we go upstairs? There's a guest room, and a bit of rest won't do you any harm. Trust me, James is in good hands now. He'll be fine."
"I'll feel reassured only after seeing him back in peak health. Until then, I won't take your words for granted."
"Still, you should rest."
"And so should you."
I'm an idiot.
A dimwit, a dumbass, whatever you want to call me. Why haven't I noticed earlier?
Only after hearing Lucy's words do I realize what's wrong with Jordan. That third eye of his has yet to stop bleeding. It's still trickling down on his nose, and he's been wiping the blood now and then. Blood isn't gushing out like a river; it's discreet but constant.
"What's wrong with your eye?"
"Nothing. Don't worry, I'm fine."
Liar.
Fucking liar.