Page 11 of Sapphire Flame
“It was a long time ago. Six years now.”
She remained standing beside him, shoulder to shoulder. They faced the drawn curtain of the emergency bay. He could hear voices now and was pretty sure the victim was awake and talking, if quietly.
“Are they here?” the woman asked. “I want to thank them.”
Natalie pushed away from the wall. He followed suit.
Emma appeared from behind the curtain and waved them close. In a quiet voice, she said, “She’s come around, but she’s very weak and traumatized. She’ll need rest. Just let her lead the conversation. She might need to talk.”
He and Natalie each nodded.
Emma drew the curtain back slowly. The top of the bed had been raised so that the woman was no longer flat on her back. She was covered in a soft, blue blanket as well. She had long, rust-colored hair and light blue eyes. “My name is Talya and I understand together you brought me in from the Graveyard.” A smile quavered on her lips. Blue flames still appeared on her neck and cheeks.
“We did,” Natalie said.
“How are you feeling?” Grant asked.
Her smile broadened. Grant had a sudden sense of a tender, kind spirit. He hated the thought that wolves had done this to her. Rage worked at the edges of his mind, but he pushed it back. She didn’t need to see the resulting wolf-sign if he got mad. He’d sprout fur in a few places and his maw would elongate.
He forced himself to take a sustained, deep breath.
Talya’s gaze became fixed to his. “I know I died, at least for a moment. But there was a woman waiting for me with long blond hair. She kept shoving at me with both hands. She didn’t understand that I wasn’t there to leave Five Bridges. I think I was looking for you.”
“Did this woman also have blue eyes?” He asked.
“She did.”
“I believe you met my wife.” He explained about how she’d brought Natalie out to the Graveyard as well.
Talya listened intently. “But Officer Grant, how did you find me in the first place?”
He was surprised to hear her address him by name. He supposed Emma or one of the nurses must have told her who he was. “It was a routine call from one of the neighbors whose house backs up to the Graveyard. Because wolves were involved, I got summoned to help out.”
Talya dropped her gaze to her hands folded on her lap. She grew silent and swallowed hard a couple of times. When the nurses started to move toward her, Emma lifted a hand in warning. The nurses backed off. Emma went to her and hovered both hands above her head.
Talya’s shoulders relaxed and some of the tension left her face.
Grant got it. Emma worked with trauma victims night and day. She’d seen everything. She clearly knew when a patient needed to talk, and when she needed a restorative moment.
It wasn’t long before Talya lifted her chin then met his gaze once more. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
That was the last thing he’d expected her to say. He searched her face. She now wore a hospital gown and the injuries on her arms were fully healed. Her color was much better. Still, he honestly didn’t recognize her. “I’m sorry, Talya, I don’t recall having met you before.”
Her lips turned down, then she bit her lower lip, hard. Her head bobbed once. “My husband died in Savage several months ago. He was shot to death outside one of the Strip Clubs. Several of the Border Patrol officers were there. You were one of them.”
He looked away from her searching his memories. He didn’t speak his thoughts aloud, how there were shootings every damn night. Talya’s husband had been one of hundreds over the past year. If Talya had been there, he might have turned his back to avoid seeing her pain. There was only so much an officer could absorb each night, each week, each difficult, horrendous year.
Finally, he met her gaze again. Maybe more information would help. “What month was this?”
“February.”
He frowned. Something about this woman and February began to hit some memories, a kind of clanking deep within his mind. He could recall getting word of a shooting on the Savage Strip, outside a club called Rock Hard, a real dive known for gaming and flame-enhanced sex.
“Was the club called Rock Hard?”
“Yes.”
The clanking grew louder.
