"I want you healed as well," I said. "Of course I do." But Abe knew where he stood in my affections, and he wasn't in my top five. He was okay with that. He, like many of the guards who had only been with us a few weeks, was just so happy to be having sex again that he hadn't had time to get his ego bruised by the competition.
"I really must insist, Princess, that you and all your men leave," Dr. Sang said.
The uniformed officer, Officer Brewer, said, "Sorry, doctor, but more guards is okay with us."
"Are you saying that these men may be attacked inside the hospital itself?" he asked.
Officer Brewer looked at his partner, Officer Kent. Kent, the taller of the two, just shrugged. I think they'd been told to stay near me, but not what to tell civilians. We'd stopped counting as civilians, to an extent, when we were attacked. Now we were in a different category for the police. Potential victims, maybe.
"Dr. Sang," Frost said, "I am in command of the princess' guard until my captain tells me otherwise. My captain lies here." He motioned toward Doyle.
"You may be in charge of the guard, but you are not in charge of this hospital." The doctor didn't even come up to Frost's collarbone. He had to tilt his head back at an extreme angle to look the taller man in the face, but he did it, and he gave him a look that clearly said that he wasn't backing down.
"We do not have time for this, Princess," Hafwen said.
I looked into her tricolored eyes; a ring of blue, silver, and an inner ring of lights as if light could be a color. "What do you mean?"
"We are outside faerie. That limits me as a healer. We stand in a building of metal and glass, a man-made structure. That also limits my powers. The longer the injury stays untended, the harder it will be for me to do anything for it."
I turned to Dr. Sang. "You heard her, doctor. You need to let my healer do her job."
"I could remove him from the room," Frost said.
"I'm not sure we can allow that," Officer Brewer said, sounding uncertain.
"How would you remove him?" Officer Kent asked.
"Good question," Officer Brewer said. "We can't really condone violence against the doctors."
"We don't need violence," Rhys said. He nuzzled my ear, playing with my hair. That one small touch made me shiver a little.
I turned so I could see his face more clearly. "Wouldn't that be unethical, too?" I asked.
"Do you really want Doyle to look like me? I know he doesn't want to lose an eye. It plays hell with your depth perception." He smiled and tried to make it a joke, but there was a bitterness to it that no smile could hide.
I kissed the bow of his mouth. He had one of the most beautiful mouths of all the men. Pouting and full, it softened the boyish handsomeness of his face into something more sensual.
He pushed me away, toward the doctor. "The doctor doesn't understand, and we don't have time to talk it to death, Merry."
"Um," Officer Brewer said, "what are you planning to do, Princess Meredith? I mean…" He looked at his partner. It was obvious that they felt out of their depth. Truthfully, I was surprised that there weren't more police here already. There were uniforms at the door, but no detectives, no higher echelon. It was almost as if the top brass was afraid of us right now. Not afraid of the danger. They were police; it was what they did. But afraid of the politics.
By now the rumors had spread. Goddess knew that King Taranis attacking Princess Meredith was juicy enough. But stories have a tendency to grow in the telling. Who knew what the police had been told by now? This case wasn't just a hot one, it was a potential career killer. Think about it—letting Princess Meredith get killed or having King Taranis injured on your watch. Either way, you were screwed.
"Doctor Sang," I said.
He turned to me, still frowning angrily. "I don't care how many policemen back you on this, there are too many people in this room for effective treatment."
I closed my eyes and let out a breath. Most humans have to do something to conjure magic. I spent most of my life shielding so I didn't perform magic by accident. Before my hands of power had come to me, just months ago, I spent time trying not to be distracted by passing spirits, small everyday wonders. Now all the practice keeping things out helped me keep things in, because my natural talents—as maybe my genetic heritage—had been kicked up a notch along with everything else.
Rhys said, "Stand back, boys."
The men moved back, and moved the two police officers with them. They gave the doctor and me a small circle of space. He glanced at them, eyes puzzled. "What's going on?"
I raised a hand to touch his face, but he grabbed my wrist to keep me from doing it. The problem for him was that I didn't need to touch him. Him touching me was just fine.