Page 5 of Hysteria Rises
With a glance at the lightning streaking through the sky as I pass a long, narrow window in the corridor, I hurry down the stone staircase. The thundering of my feet is only a match for the crashing of the storm that continues to rage outside.
At the bottom, I skid around the corner but haven’t gone more than a few feet when a heavy hand clamps mercilessly onto my shoulder, making my heart jump. I stop in my tracks. “Yeah?” I bark out, assuming it’s one of the other guys. Only it’s not, and my gut clenches as I return Kiefer’s wickedly assessing gaze.
He rubs a hand over his jaw, eyeing me. “Just so I have it straight. This girl appeared out of nowhere.”
I have no idea what Hayze said when he brought her in, but I have a sudden urge to clam up eventhough Kiefer’s understanding of the events is correct. Maybe it’s that I’ve never been one of his biggest fans. He’s overbearing and thinks way too much of himself. But if I ever—ever—voiced that, he’d take great pleasure in reminding me what I owe him and the rest of the Collective. “Honestly, none of us knew what to make of her appearance in the woods.”
He shoots me a grim smile. “Okay. Find out everything you can about her.”
My brows raise, then immediately dart together. Based on what Gannon relayed to me, I’d assumed she was dead or on her way there. Something about his demand makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “What do you want to know?”
Kiefer lets out a long exhale. “Never mind that. Just pay good fucking attention to every detail.” He rubs a hand over his jaw. “Go.”
I heave out a sigh, nodding, and break into a jog, passing the utilitarian kitchen and dining area and heading for the hall where my father’s rooms are located. Now I’m curious. I’ve gotta know what’s transpired since we left Hayze—at his request—with the girl.
Right before I get to my father’s quarters, Hayze barrels out, startling blue eyes fixing on mine as he pulls the door shut behind him with a quiet snick. I scan his drawn face for some clue as to what I’m walking into.Is she alive?Mud has dried on every square inch of his bare torso. That girl had been in astate, covered from head to toe in filth, an almost wild look in her eye when we gave chase.
“Best go in now. Your father’s waiting for you,” he grumbles, his expression not giving anything away.
I tear my gaze from his, my eyes fixing on the door to my father’s exam room, but I have no idea what I’ll find beyond. My throat grows thick, and I struggle to swallow before forcing out one last question, but I can’t even get the entire thing out. Instead, I mumble, “Is she?—?”
Hayze cocks his head to the side, then shrugs, lifting both hands in a gesture that screamsWho the fuck knows. “On Nolan’s exam table? Dirty as hell? Unconscious? Alive? Ready for what’s next?”
I slip my tongue out to dampen my lips and urge him with an irritated glance to finish.
“Yes to all of the above, except that last one. But… she took a pretty good fall.” A grimace works its way to his face, a tinge of regret taking up residence there. “I can’t tell whether she’s so fucked-up because of hitting her head or that we scared the hell out of her.”
“Either. Both.” I shrug.
“We’re asking for trouble if I hold you up any longer.”
“Anything else I need to know before I go in there?” Hayze always has my back and is very straightforward, honest almost to a fault.
It seems like an eternity passes before he shakes his head. “Nah, but I have to get going. Kiefer and Henrywant to talk to me again.” The dry chuckle that he huffs out takes me by surprise.
My brows tug together. “About this?”
He runs a hand over his still-damp hair. “Maybe. Maybe not. I dunno.” Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, he murmurs a gruff, “Gotta shower real quick.”
Before he’s gotten more than a few steps, I call out to him. “Heard anything yet?”
He only glances back at me long enough to give a slight shake of his head.
That’s not good.
Unable to put the inevitable off any longer, I lift my hand to the door and lightly rap the back of my knuckles against the dense wood. On the other side, there’s a shuffling noise, then it swings open. My father gives me a sharp nod and an appraising once-over as he steps back. I lean to one side, craning my neck to put eyes on the industrial-size stainless steel exam table on the far end of the room.
When I don’t immediately enter, my father barks out a clipped, “Don’t just stand there.”
“Yes sir.” I slip inside, then connect my gaze with his as I pass, awaiting further guidance. I’ve been assisting him with all things medical for years now, even before I was of age. But this is different. This is awoman. I knew this day was coming, I simply didn’t know how soon.
“You’re getting a crash course tonight, son. I hope you’re ready.”
I inhale sharply but follow him over to our unplanned-for guest. “Is something wrong?”
“Nah. Not really.” He rubs a hand over his jaw. I’ve seldom noticed strain on my father’s face, but it’s there in the creases at the corners of his eyes. “It’s time you learned how things are done with respect to our women.” I could swear his keen stare probes right inside my skull, searching out my thoughts.
None of us have explicitly been told what the process is when we have new arrivals. But I assume what’s in my thoughts—or any of our heads, really—is child’s play in comparison.
