She stopped breathing. She could tell him that she only cared because it was her job to care, but she sensed that when he said a long time, he wasn’t talking about a few years, or even a few decades. Maybe not even a few centuries. Was he that awful of a person that no one could care for him? Or did he push people away so they didn’t have the chance to care for him?
Either way, it was kind of heartbreaking.
“Just relax, and you’ll feel better in a few minutes.”
One corner of his mouth curved into a half smile. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
“We’ll see.”
Bending over the laceration, she got back to work. “Not very trusting, are you?”
“Because people aren’t very trustworthy.”
She’d have argued, because she’d met a few standup humans and demons, but he’d closed his eyes again, and his breathing had settled into a deep, steady rhythm.
She spent the next forty-five minutes stitching Revenant up in silence, and as she finished, her cell buzzed with a text from Eidolon.
Meet me in my office tomorrow at 2 PM.
Doc E had never been one to mince words. She set the phone aside and turned back to Revenant.
“What was that about?” Revenant’s voice was drowsy and his eyes were still closed, but he somehow managed to radiate a sense of alertness most people couldn’t match after ten hours of sleep and five cups of coffee.
“Nothing.”
His lids lifted as his features settled into irritation. “There is very little that pisses me off more than being lied to.”
“Okay, fine,” she said. “It was something, but it’s none of your business. That’s not a lie.”
He pegged her with his black gaze. “I’m not the enemy. You know that, right?”
“Actually, no, I don’t.” She smoothed a bandage over his wound. “You’re a fallen angel. You, more than anyone, should know that fallen angels aren’t exactly honorable.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” The bottle he seemed to have forgotten about became his best friend again, and he took a swig. “I’m not fallen. I’m a one hundred percent, full-blown, Heavenly angel.” His voice lowered, became thick with liquor. “What a fucking joke.”
Now he was making no sense. She reached for the bottle. “Let me just take that —”
He jerked it way. “Mine.”
She huffed. “As your doctor, I’m ordering you to give that to me.”
“Mine.”
“Hand it over,” she said between clenched teeth.
His gaze roved over her in a frank, unhurried sweep. “Mine,” he growled, and her body flushed with heat, as if it thought he was referring to her.
“I give up,” she muttered as she shoved her medical supplies back into her bag.
He gave her a lopsided grin. “I like that you give in to me so easily.”
“Yeah, well, don’t expect me to give in to anything else. If you want a hangover for the record books, that’s your problem. Don’t come asking me for aspirin.”
Half-lidded eyes swept her again, and the heat intensified. “There’s a pub song about how women get better looking at closing time.” He held up the bottle in salute. “You’re already hot as hell. But now you look like an angel.”
“Aw, I’ll bet you say that to all the doctors who sew you up.”
“Nope. Just you.” He squinted at her. Looked at the bottle. Looked back at her. “I don’t know what’s in this booze, but I swear it’s making you look different. Like an angel is trying to break through some sort of blurry overlay.”
He frowned again at the bottle, completely oblivious to the fact that she was on the verge of hyperventilating. Had the alcohol given him the ability to see through her disguise?
Do something. Fast.
“Ah, hey.” She gestured to his wound. “You need to get some rest now. The wound should be healed by morning.”
Standing, she held out her hand to help him up, but he popped to his feet without her. And then, as if his legs were made of rubber, he collapsed. Only the wall and her quick thinking kept him from crashing to the floor.
“Criminy, you’re heavy.” Holding him with one arm slung around his waist, she casually took the liquor from him and set it on the coffee table.
He leaned heavily on her as she made her way past unpacked boxes toward her bedroom. “She gave up everything for me, Blaspheme,” he mumbled. “She… she… aw, fuck.” His big body trembled, and his voice, which was so deep and powerful, shook as hard as the rest of him. “It’s my fault. Everything that happened to her… it’s on me.”