Skin Game Page 63

Her eyes were fluttering uncertainly, and she was shivering so hard that she could barely stand. There was frost forming on her eyelashes, and even as I watched it started spreading over her cheeks.

“She’s a spiritual entity,” I breathed. “Oh, my God. She’s a spirit of intellect.”

“What happens when mortals get it on with spirits,” my double confirmed, though now without heat.

“But Mab said she was a parasite,” I said.

“Lot of people make jokes, refer to fetuses like that,” he said.

“Mab called her a monster. Said she would hurt those closest to me.”

“She’s a spirit of intellect, just like Bob,” my double said. “Born of the spirit of a fallen freaking angel and the mind of one of the most potent wizards on the White Council. She’s going to be born with knowledge, and with power, and be absolutely innocent of what to do with them. A lot of people would call that monstrous.”

“Argh,” I said, and clutched at my head. I got it now. Mab hadn’t been lying. Not precisely. Hell, she’d as much as told me that the parasite was made of my essence. My soul. My . . . me-ness. Spirits of intellect had to grow, and my head was a limited space. This one had been filling it up for years, slowly expanding, putting more psychic and psychological pressure on me—reflected in the growing intensity of my migraines over that time.

If I’d realized what was happening, I could have done something sooner, and probably a lot more simply. Now . . . I was overdue and it was looking like this was going to be a very, very rough delivery. And if I didn’t have help, I’d be in much the same shape as a woman giving birth alone and encountering complications. Odds were good that my head wouldn’t be able to stand the pressure of such a being abruptly parting ways with me, fighting its way out of a space that had become too small, in sheer instinct for its own survival. It could drive me insane, or kill me outright.

If that happened, it would leave the newly born spirit of intellect alone and bewildered in a world it didn’t understand, but about which it had lots and lots of data. Spirits like Bob liked to pretend they were all about rationality, but they had emotions, attachments. The new spirit would want to connect. And it would try to do so with the people who mattered most to me.

I shuddered, imagining little Maggie suddenly gaining a very, very seriously dangerous imaginary friend.

“See?” I demanded of my double. “You see? This is why you don’t go around ha**ng s*x with everyone all the time!”

“You’re the brain,” he said. “Figure it out.” The lights flickered and he looked up and around. “Ugh,” he said. “Nail’s coming out.”

He was right. I could feel a faint pang in my chest, and a fading echo of the agony in my head. Frost continued covering the little girl, and she sighed, her knees buckling.

My double and I both stooped down and caught her before she could fall.

I picked her up. She didn’t weigh anything. She didn’t look dangerous. She just looked like a little girl.

Her eyes fluttered open. “I’msorry,” she stammered. “Sorry. But it hurts and I c-c-couldn’t talk to you.”

I traded a look with my double and then looked down at her. “It’s okay,” I said. “It’s okay. I’m going to take care of it. It’ll be all right.”

She sighed slightly and her eyes closed. Frost covered her in fine layers upon layers, as the spell on Mab’s earring wrapped her in sleep and silence, stilling her—for now—and turning her into a beautiful white statue.

I hadn’t even known she was there—and she was entirely my responsibility.

And if I didn’t handle it, she would kill me being born.

I passed her carefully to my double. “Okay,” I said. “I’ve got it.”

He took her, very gently, and gave me a nod. “I know she’s weird. But she’s still your offspring.” His dark eyes flashed. “Protect the offspring.”

Primal drives indeed.

I’d torn apart a nation protecting my physical child. I was looking at part of the reason why. That drive was a part of me, too.

I took a deep breath and nodded to him. “I’m on it,” I said.

He wrapped the girl in a blanket and turned to carry her back into the darkness. He took the light with him, and darkness swallowed me again.

“Hey,” my double called abruptly, from the distance.

“What?”

“Don’t forget the dream!” he said. “Don’t forget how it ended!”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“You flipping idiot!” my double snarled.

And then he was gone along with everything else.

Twenty-four

I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling of Karrin’s bedroom. It was dark. I was lying down. Light from the hallway came creeping under the bedroom door, and was almost too bright for my eyes.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Butters’s voice was saying. “I don’t know. There’s no AMA-approved baseline for a freaking wizard Knight of Winter. He could be in shock. He could be bleeding from the brain. He could be really, really sleepy. Dammit, Karrin, this is what hospitals and practicing physicians are for!”

I heard Karrin blow out a breath. “Okay,” she said, without any kind of heat. “What can you tell me?”

“His arm’s broken,” Butters said. “From the swelling and bruising, badly. Whatever put that dent in the aluminum brace on it—did he get it taken care of in a tool shop?—rebroke it. I set it again, I think, and wrapped it up in the brace again, but I can’t be sure I did it right without imaging equipment, which would probably explode if he walked into the room with it. If it hasn’t been set right, that arm might be permanently damaged.” He blew out a breath. “The hole in his chest wasn’t traumatic, by his usual standards. It didn’t go through the muscle. But the damned nail was rusty, so I hope he’s had his tetanus shots. I gave the hole another stitch and I washed the blood off the nail.”

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