Page 84 of Even Robots Die
Iwake up in a room that I don’t recognize.
My mind is a bit fuzzy, but that’s not the reason why.
The walls are made of old stones, and for a second, I think I’m back in Blois’ castle.
Except if I were there, there would be no reason for them to put me in a room that’s not mine.
I shift in the bed and that’s when I feel my skin rebelling at the movement in two different spots.
The events of the day come to my mind in rapid fire.
I should be in much more pain.
I should be in a hospital bed.
How long have I been out?
There is no one in this damn room, and I have no idea how I ended up here. Are my sisters safe? What happened after I passed out? And where the hell am I?
My breathing grows erratic with all of the questions spinning in my mind and I have to sit up in bed.
“Oh, you’re awake. I thought it would take longer. The doctor said it would take longer, but I’m glad you’re already up. I should go get my dad, then.”
Cassiopé’s voice pulls me out of my spiraling mind and I try to get my breathing back under control as my heart beats against my ribcage like a war drum.
And then something that she just said occurs to me.
“Your dad is here?”
Shouldn’t he still be in Blois? What about his brain going all crazy if he’s in Elhyor’s vicinity?
As if she can read all of my questions on my face—truthfully, I must look horrified right now—she hurries to answer.
“Elhyor left the city with Angélique as soon as Dad called me to say he was on his way.”
“Why?” I ask.
Cassiopé looks a bit lost.
“Why did Elhyor leave?”
“No. Why did he come?” I ask again.
I don’t need to tell her who ‘him’ is. She immediately understands and looks almost sorry to tell me.
“He kinda went berserker when he learned you got shot. Daniel is probably hiding as we speak because he doesn’t want to face his wrath.”
“What the hell happened while I was out?” I ask without expecting an answer.
But with Cassiopé being Cassiopé, she can’t prevent herself from answering.
“I’d say my Dad trusted Daniel to keep you safe, and he monumentally screwed up. It’s not your fault …”
“No, it’s not my fault indeed. It’s your dad’s fault,” I stop her mid-sentence.
And maybe it’s a bit my fault too. I should have known that in the few weeks I had disappeared in Blois, things wouldn’t have gotten anybetter, and that coming back home with a bat-shifter wasn’t the best idea. But Brice should have known, too.
He said he had spies and whatnot in Paris. I believed him. I believed it was for my own safety that Daniel was coming with me, but now I see how flawed this plan of his was.
