“I promise he will be better off once relinquished into my care,” Sike said. “I have all the official paperwork.” She presented her papers again, folded neatly in two. “It’s signed in triplicate, in her blood. You have to comply.”
“He’s covered in wounds. Infection is a given—”
“He’ll get blood.”
We all knew she didn’t mean merely human. “Do it here then,” the doctor challenged her.
Sike frowned. “Fine. Leave the room. Now.” Sike turned toward me and handed me her lab coat, then pushed Gideon back to sitting. I made to follow my co-workers but she called after me. “Edie—stay.”
My curiosity had curdled to guilt and horror, but I did as I was told.
* * *
Sike sat beside him on the bed and blotted away the Betadine distastefully with the corner of a sheet. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a makeup compact, flipping it open to reveal what appeared to be a crème blush.
“Gideon, give me your hand.”
She smeared her right thumb in the substance, then ran it along the edges of his wounds. One knuckle at a time began to seal. Only the first knuckles remained on that hand. I wondered with a sick fascination what was left of the other one.
“Sike—what happened?” I didn’t want to see what was under the bandages covering his face. “And why?”
“Becoming a member of the Sanguine is not without trials.” She continued to paint what was clearly a vampire-blood-based substance onto Gideon’s hand, like a salve.
The enormity of his situation settled in. He had no fingers. Lord only knew what the gauze around his face was concealing. “Who did this?”
“If I knew that, I’d be killing them right now. Anna was asleep when he was damaged, and he did not see his attackers.” Finishing with his nearest hand, she reached up to unwrap his face. “He was her first daytimer. Her eyes, her ears,” she said, as his face was uncovered—his eye sockets were empty, hollow, and the shells of his ears were gone. “And now he is as helpless as a baby bird.”
“But why?”
“Because she chose him.”
“I thought they revered Anna?”
“Our kind buys reverence with fear.” She loaded up her thumb with the salve again and pressed it into the moist concavity of his eye sockets. I breathed deeply to keep my stomach straight.
“So the Rose Throne isn’t all one big happy vampire family?”
“The words happy and family do not belong in the same sentence as vampire.” She traced the outlines of his mutilated ears. “But this wasn’t us. The Rose Throne is pleased about Anna’s ascension. This was someone else.”
“Who? And why?”
“I’ll be trying to figure that out as soon as I leave here.”
I swallowed. I didn’t want to think of myself just now, but—“Whoever did this—could they come for me?”
Sike paused in her ministrations. “I suspect that this was done for show. Harming a daytimer’s much more of an affront than killing a mere human. No offense.”
“None taken,” I said. “Somehow, your explanation doesn’t make me feel any more safe.”
“You don’t understand, Edie. Even without your badge, you wouldn’t. She can hear him inside her mind, crying.” Sike unwound his other hand and started to treat it. “Not killing him is worse than death, in this case.”
“Make him into a vampire then—” I prodded. It was what he’d wanted—what all daytimers did.
“With a human, vampire blood can only heal so much. And there are some things that becoming a vampire will not heal. You cannot regrow lost flesh—things lost in life, unhealed, stay gone. Would you want to live forever, like he is now?”
And I remembered Dren, eternally pissed at me for the loss of his hand, and his task for me tonight. I shook my head, and she nodded. “You see my point.”
Sike flipped her compact closed and pocketed it. Then she rewound the gauze around him, still bloody from the first time through.
“I can get you clean gauze, at least.”
“It doesn’t matter now.” She stood. “Gideon, follow me.”
Gideon stood and hobbled forward, like a stiff but obedient dog.
“Where will you take him?” I asked her, stepping out of their way.
She smiled cruelly. “Home.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Even if I had wanted to eat on my break, I didn’t have any time. The rest of Y4’s P.M. shift looked at me like I was some sort of traitor, which I supposed I was now. I put the trank gun away after taking out the darts, tossed Sike’s stolen lab coat into my locker, and went to wait for the elevator to head back up to trauma.