Page 58 of Fatality on the Field

“I worry about that sometimes,” I sigh, as I lean back into my seat. “But I work hard not to be him every day and Kas usually gives me a heads up if I slip. It’s not often I do, but when I’m angry, it can happen.”

“That happens to all of us, I believe,” Kimiko says quietly. “Even me.”

We drive the last few blocks in companionable silence, and Lucas takes a turn around the back of the hospital, looking for an entrance that will keep us away from any prying eyes. Once he gets into the garage without incident, I sigh in relief. Now all we have to do is get to our family and the students without running into some intrepid reporter.

If that’s the hardest thing about this visit, I’m going to be one happy royal, I swear on Brighid.

thirty-five

MORGANA

Hospitals can be bastions of chaos, especially in the ER, but that’s nothing compared to what’s happening on our floor of State U Medical Center tonight. The floors are still sticky from whatever they used to mop up the magical residue and every overhead light is blaring at full wattage now that the power has been stabilized. Fragments of glass glitter in the grout lines as they sweep furiously, plus a rolling bin of bandages has left a trail guiding every lost janitor and re-assigned intern to the disaster zone.

I can’t focus on what they need to do, though. I have too many things of my own to handle.

Pacing a rut in the scuffed linoleum, I keep my phone jammed to my ear. I’m so tensed up I can feel the healing micro-fractures running along my jaw from the dive to safety. Des is a coil of agitation under my collar, her tongue flicking at every passing staff member as if she might strike at them in retaliation. I’ve been on the phone for seventeen minutes, first to the Council, then to the University Board, then to the Board’s lawyer, and I’m not done yet. The only reason I haven’t hurled the phone down the hall is that I know it will just come back to haunt me with a thousand more notifications.

Nearby, Zuszanna is hunched over a sheaf of paperwork that’s already got spatters of blood and what I suspect is magic-proof ink all over it. She’s giving gruff orders to a med center nurse who’s currently taping a butterfly bandage across the back of Channing’s hand. Channing is holding her arm perfectly steady, but the angle of her jaw tells me she’s gritting through something way more painful than a paper cut. There’s a blossoming bruise across her left cheek, and the shoulder of her blazer is torn open from the seam, the fabric crusted with a line of dried blood that’s turning brown at the edge.

The fact that I forgot about her when the shit hit the fan is roiling in my gut, even though she’s mostly okay—it’s unforgivable and I deserve my own scorn over it.

I keep my eye on her as I come to the end of my pacing loop for the dozenth time. In truth, I should be the one over there holding her hand and telling her she‘s a trooper, but there’s still so much left to manage. The world hasn’t stopped spinning just because someone weaponized Faerie flora and decided to run a beta test in our greenhouse. The Board wants answers, the Council wants containment, and the press is outside. I want to find whoever did this and put their face through a window, which shows where everyone’s priorities are, now doesn’t it?

The elevator at the far end of the hall gives a bright ding and it opens to spit out Liam, Lucas, Slade, and Professor Nakamura. The four of them hit the hallway like a storm front, each one immediately looking shocked beyond belief at the mess. Li scans the disaster quickly, taking inventory of people and problems like a general arriving on the battlefield. My adorable siren does a quick sidestep to avoid a haz-mat sign and makes a beeline straight for Channing. His face darkens when he sees the bruise on her jaw. Kimmi’s eyes go round as bottle caps as she tries to take in the triage tableau, and Lucas follows Slade once his eyes verify my safety.

They’re all good men, even the grumpy ass dragon, and I love that they know I’m freaking out about the people who matter to me while being stuck on this call.

Slade’s eyes go from Channing’s face to her hand to the patches of blood on the bench as he bends to look closer. “Are you okay?” His voice is low, but the pitch is off, and I bet he’s pushing a little calming magic into it.

My friend flashes him an annoyed , not-even-trying-to-be-brave gritted smile. “Never better,” she says, as she glances at her hand. “I didn’t expect to get whammied with a magical blast today, but when do we ever expect the shit the universe keeps throwing at us?”

The siren squints at her, gently touching a finger to the edge of her bandage. “Are they sure you’re not concussed?” he asks. “You’re not usually this witty when you’re so angry.”

Her eyes crinkle as she snorts. “Aw, Slade, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. No, I don’t have a concussion. I ducked into the stairwell to have a more private conversation with Jax just before everything went kaboom. Glass in the door caught me with shrapnel, and then the pressure wave threw the damn thing at me like a brick wall collapsing. Luckily, I landed in a stupid laundry cart someone stowed in the wrong place, so I think the universe wanted me to survive.”

I hadn’t heard this yet, but the thanks I wing at the ceiling is entirely deserved for whatever deity arranged that little coincidence.

“Damn, girl. You should buy a lottery ticket on the way home. What a badass!” Lucas says as he steps up behind Slade. He sets a heavy hand on my assistant’s head as he ruffles her hair, then leans around to look her in the eye. “Glad you’re mostly intact, Chan-Chan. However, that doesn’t mean you don’t owe us an explanation for why this place looks like a scene from a disaster flick. Tell us how it went down since Lady M is tied up in the bad way.”

Channing starts to laugh, then thinks better of it and winces, which is when Lucas’s hand goes instantly gentle. He looks her up and down again, this time with a scan that’s more animal than human. “You’re sure that you’re fine, right? Swear on the world’s best pie at Missy’s?”

“I’d swear on the pie, yes,” Channing says. “It was all the super docs Jax sent to help as far as I know. Zuszanna told me they tapped a ley line, which I’m sure you know, and the magic went off like a bomb. However, it’s fixed the problem, we believe, so the mess was worth it.”

Slade lets out a breath, adjusting his glasses as he shakes his head. “Damn that’s powerful. I haven’t seen something like that in person, so I’m a little jealous.”

Grinning broadly, Lucas says, “Me, too, little buddy. I’m jelly as fuck that Lady M, the asshast, and Iggy got to see it happen. It’s, like, magical history and shit. You don’t come across that kinda thing very often, you know? I wanna meet them so bad.”

“Ha. Of course you do, young Wolfberg.” Zuszanna looks up from her paperwork, her expression wry. “Who wouldn’t? However, those gentlemen are working with the hospital staff to gather all the information they have about poison and the student’s recovery. You cannot bother them for hero worship at the moment. Perhaps check on your… Dean... while that is happening, hmm?”

Her words are a command, and I chuckle internally as the bear straightens with flushed cheeks. “Yes, ma’am. I mean, Professor. You’re right. I should see Morgana first.”

I’m not mad in the slightest—I know he checked on me before going to Channing—but his reaction means he sees Zu like he does his Nana, which is hilarious.

I end my call gratefully—some dumb Board member still yammering on the other end—and tuck the phone in my pocket even though it will cost me later. Looking at the disaster zone, the ruined hallway, and the people I care about, I face the new arrivals with what I hope is composure. “Welcome to the party, everyone. The atmosphere sucks, but at least the other guests are alive.”

Liam is the first to speak to me. “Is this going to be in the papers, or did you get ahead of it?”

I shrug. “Depends if the Board wants a cover-up or a circus. Right now, the odds are against the circus and for spinning lies to protect their investment in that dumb sports game rather than students.”