Page 80 of The Alien's Private Redemption

Uncle Saul had always been there for doctor's visits, just like he'd been there for Grandma Mae's visits, and Great-Aunt Jenny's before that. Angela had seen the pictures in the old album - Uncle Saul standing next to Great-Great Grandma Sarah on her wedding day, looking exactly the same as he did now. When she'd asked about it, her mother had just smiled and said some people aged better than others.

Angela wondered that the woman was willing to go ahead without him.

"Is he her doctor?"

"No."

"Her father?"

"He's my uncle."

Angela thought about that. Didn't everybody have an Uncle Saul?

"Ma'am, if he's not a doctor, we don't need to wait for him."

The door to the room with the machine opened and one of the nurses who had been moving around the room placed a hand on her shoulder.

Angela dropped to the floor in a screaming, angry heap. Her body thrashed and fought while her mind stayed oddly clear, like it always did when she needed Uncle Saul. She could feel him coming, like a cool shadow moving through the mountains toward her. His shadow never quite matched his shape when he moved that fast, stretching longer and lower to the ground, but nobody else ever seemed to notice.

She was aware, in a vague way, of the nurses lifting her from the floor and into her mother's lap. She kicked and hit at them, at her mother, at the chair and tables nearby.

Her entire body hurt and sharp spikes of pain radiated from the head injury that had necessitated the trip to town in the first place.

A calm voice cut through the screams that were making her throat raw and Angela hoped he would get to her soon. She wanted to stop and rest but she knew she couldn't until Saul told her.

A cool hand on the back of her neck brought blessed relief to her overheated body. Through her tears, Angela saw Uncle Saul's human shape settle into place, like ripples smoothing on a pond. His skin was always cool, no matter how far or fast he'd traveled to reach them. The other adults drew back without seeming to realize they were doing it - Uncle Saul had that effect on people.

"Calm yourself," Uncle Saul said, his soft voice echoing through her mind.

Angela stilled, her limbs suddenly too heavy to move, and Saul lifted her from her mother's battered arms.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" he asked, and Angela could feel the whip of disapproval in his words. Her mother flinched.

"We tried," she said, her voice choked with tears.

"I don't know who you are, mister, but we've already delayed too long. There's a-"

Uncle Saul growled in a voice Angela had only heard a few times in her life. She watched his fingers flex against his leg, his nails just a little too sharp against the fabric of his pants. She'd seen those nails longer once, when he'd scaled the cliff behind their house to rescue her kite. But like the strange ripples in his shadow, nobody else ever seemed to notice these things about him.

"I do not care about who is waiting. Your desire to rush, your refusal to wait, has damaged my niece."

"She's here because her injury is urgent," one of the nurses protested. "Waiting for you could have killed her."

"Refusing to wait for me almost has," Saul snapped.

"Who are you, then? Why did it take you so long to get here? Why did we have to wait for you?"

Angela could feel her uncle turn to look at the woman.

"I'm Uncle Saul," he said, his voice filled with poisoned honey. "And you wait for me because anything that puts her in danger, I will be there to deal with the consequences."

"What does that mean?" the nurse demanded.

"It means," Saul said. "That we should get Angela into the machine. And after that, we'll discuss whether or not this is your last day here."

Uncle Saul lifted her from her mother's arms and strode through the doors. He laid her down on the bed in front of the machine and caught her face between his hands.

His eyes shifted to a shining, solid green, and the rest of the room faded into shadows.

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