Page 4 of Dark Medicine

“Once? I’m sorry, Fiona. How did he die?”

“I’m not sure, actually. He was ten years older than me, but we were very close.”

Adam furrowed his brow. He sensed she wasn’t telling the whole truth, but he reached across the table and laid his long, lean fingers over her own. The soft pink polish was chipping on her thumb, and he grinned to himself. Adam felt his instincts kick in and made a mental note of the overwhelming sadness and fear in her body. But it wasn’t the emotions that got his attention. It was the ankle. The ankle she had been rubbing only moments before was now completely healed. No swelling, no tissue damage, and no bruising beneath the skin.

He eyed her suspiciously and ran the process through his mind once more. Nothing.

Fiona looked down at his large hand covering her own. No man had ever been able to cover her hand with his own. She looked up at Adam and stared into his eyes for a moment. They were such a rich, deep shade of blue, almost sapphire. She could get lost with this man, easily lost. There was something else about him, though. Something that made Fiona feel on edge and excited at the same time.

“Well, I should get back home and into dry clothes. There are taxis outside now.” She stood and watched as Adam laid down the cash for their meal. “Thank you for dinner and for coming to my rescue.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said, leading her from the still-crowded pub. His hand settled on her lower back just above the waistband of her running tights, and she shivered from his touch. He watched her walk easily, no sign of a limp or any pain.

“Where are you staying? I’ll pick you up at eight in the morning. There shouldn’t be any traffic on a Saturday.”

“I’m at the Sherbourne.”

“Fancy! It’s a beautiful hotel,” she said, smiling. Stepping outside, she waited under the cover while he whistled, and the taxi moved forward. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” He nodded and opened the back door of the taxi.

Fiona gave a small wave and wondered what it would have been like to kiss Dr. Adam Thorn. She shook her head and gave the driver her address. Maybe tomorrow.

CHAPTER FOUR

Adam walked through the front doors of the hotel, the massive antique chandelier illuminating the foyer. To the right, the small dining hall where late afternoon, early evening tea revelers were still enjoying their break. On the left was the massive bar. The huge oak curved around the space, the massive mirrored panels filled with every libation you could want or desire. Sitting at the far end, he spotted Flip and Spook.

“What’s up, asshole? You were supposed to meet us here over an hour ago,” said Flip in a frustrated tone.

“Sorry, man, I had a damsel in distress situation,” he said, sitting between the two men.

“Damn! Why is it always you? I mean, does she have a sister or something?” asked Spook.

Adam said nothing at first, looking around the space. In the corner was a small table with three seats, and he nodded toward it. The three men stood and moved to the table.

“What’s up, brother? This sounds serious,” said Flip.

“I think she’s one of us,” he said. He waited until the words soaked in for his friends. Their faces finally made the connection with his words.

“One of us? Like freaky one of us?” asked Flip.

“Yea. I met her because some asshole clipped her with his motorcycle on the street while she was out running. She flew into the air and took a tumble on the concrete hard. Since she was running, she had on typical running attire, so it wasn’t like she had on lots of clothing to pad her fall. I held out my hand so I wouldn’t scare her,” he said, looking at his friends.

“Yea, ‘cause you holding out your hand scares women all the time,” said Spook sarcastically. Even as another man, Spook could admit that his friend was handsome and appealing to women. A woman would have no issue holding Adam Thorn’s hand.

“Not my fault you’re ugly,” quipped Adam. Truth was, Spook was probably the most handsome of them all in the traditional way. He was the all-American boy. Auburn-haired, blue-eyed, six feet of lean muscle, and smart as hell.

“Anyway, she took my hand, and I did, well, I did what I do. There was nothing broken, no internal bleeding, which was shocking in and of itself, but I could tell her ankle was messed up. Just a bad sprain, but she would limp for a while.”

“Okay, so where is this going?” asked Flip.

“I asked her to dinner. She’s beautiful, and I was curious. While we were eating, she crossed her leg and rubbed her ankle. Just a gentle easy massage, nothing forceful. She was telling me about the death of her brother, and I reached across for her hand.”

“What a shithead? While she was talking about her dead brother?”

“Not like that dickhead! I was just being consoling. Anyway, I didn’t feel anything.”

“So, she’s just not the girl for you,” said Spook.

“Are you always this dense, or are you just trying to be fucking annoying? No! I felt nothing, like no sprain, no swelling, no bruising, nothing.” Adam paused, thinking back on the moment. “In fact, I didn’t think of it until just now, but her road rash burns on her hands were gone. Completely healed.”

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