“Go to the end of this hallway, then take a right,” Lorien answered promptly.
I made my way down the corridor and glanced around before speaking again. “So, you really have a thing for babies, huh?” I whispered.
“What are you whispering for?” Lorien asked with a smirk.
“Because people who roam hospitals talking to themselves usually end up in the psych ward,” I griped, snapping my mouth shut to smile at an elderly woman as she tottered out of the doorway in front of me wearing a paper-thin hospital gown. The nurse at her elbow gave me an odd look.
I glared at Lorien and she smothered a laugh.
“Hilarious,” I whispered. “I’m glad you get such a kick out of making me look like a lunatic. And do you have any idea how hard it was to pretend you weren’t darting around making goo goo eyes at Molly up there? If Rachel and Brian hadn’t been so preoccupied with the baby, they would have thought Sunny and I were both nuts.”
“You need to relax and worry a little less about what other people are thinking, Sydney,” Lorien pronounced. “Besides, who can resist making ‘goo goo eyes’ at babies? They’re so sweet and guileless with their little newly aligned souls. They’re beings of pure love, and that’s a rare and special thing. It only lasts so long before the world teaches them differently.”
I pondered that depressing thought as I trudged to the end of the hallway and hit a dead end. I frowned. “There’s no right at the end of this hall. It’s a patient’s room. Lorien?” I looked around for her, but she had disappeared.
I sighed, wondering if I’d done something to drive her away.
My eyes settled on the occupant of the room to my right. A woman lay pale and unconscious in the bed, lifeless but for the machine that was forcing breath into her body. She had long, light brown hair, much like mine, and similar features as well. I took an involuntary step forward, but froze when the light clicked off in the bathroom and a man crossed the scratched tile floor to stand at her side.
He bent over her, his black t-shirt stretching across well-defined shoulder and back muscles. He wore faded jeans and his tanned arms were covered in tattoos of runes and Celtic symbols. His startlingly blue eyes expressed surprise as he glanced up to find me staring at him.
“Sydney?” he asked as he straightened, his voice rough beneath his thick Irish brogue.
“Agent Sparrow?” I croaked, shock, and something warmer, traveling across my nerve endings at the sight of him. He’d starred in a few of my more explicit fantasies over the past week, but seeing him here was the last thing I’d expected.
“Do you know her?” he asked softly, indicating the girl in the bed.
“No. I…I’m visiting someone else,” I sputtered.
“What are you doing here then?” he asked, his cobalt eyes narrowing in a mixture of confusion and suspicion.
“Lorien said…I mean my friend said…I was looking for the gift shop,” I finally managed, cringing at how awkward I sounded.
A slow smile dawned across his face and my stomach quivered in response. “Lorien?” he queried, one dark eyebrow cocked in a knowing expression.
“You know Lorien?” I asked uncertainly.
“I’ve had the pleasure,” he said dryly.
“Oh. I wasn’t sure if you could see her,” I replied, and then winced at my stupidity. Of course he could see her. He was a half-faerie policeman who arrested death djinns.
He chuckled at my obvious discomfort. “How would you like to have a cup of coffee with me, Sydney?”
My pulse quickened. “Sure,” I answered, suppressing the urge to grin like an idiot. It was hospital coffee, for Goddess’ sake, it wasn’t like he’d asked me out on a date.
“Good. I have a feeling it was Lorien’s intention that you and I have a chat. Just let me finish up here.”
He reached out to gently place his hand on the unconscious woman’s head. He whispered a few words that had the sound of ritual, and then slowly removed his hand, his strong fingers brushing her brow in a regretful caress. The dim light reflected faintly off of something silver in his palm before it disappeared into his jeans pocket.
Then he left her side and exited the room, towering over me as he motioned me to join him. I fell into step beside him, inhaling his spicy, woodsy scent.
“Who is she,” I asked in a subdued tone, hoping she wasn’t his wife, or sister, or some other close relation.
Sparrow sighed. “I’m not sure. She was found unconscious by the side of the road about a week ago. She’s been in a coma ever since.”
A tension that I hadn’t known I held left my body at the discovery that he didn’t know her.
“What happened to her?” I asked as we stepped onto the elevator and began to descend.
“I think it’s quite probable that someone stole her soul.” Sparrow’s anger hung in the air as we stopped on the first floor and waited for the doors to open.
“But I thought that when a death djinn claimed a soul the person became an immortal slave,” I said in a low voice, hurrying to keep up with his long strides as we turned a corner to find the brightly lit cafeteria. “Why would she be in a coma?”
“I didn’t say it was a death djinn, nor did I suggest someone claimed her soul legally; I said it was probably stolen. There’s a difference.” I digested that as we moved down the empty buffet line, past some dry mashed potatoes, questionable looking meatloaf, and myriad small bowls filled with green Jell-o squares. He stopped at the drink station and filled a white ceramic mug with steaming hot coffee, which he then offered to me.
“No, thanks. I’ll just grab some iced tea.”
Sparrow paid the tired-looking cashier and we moved through the sterile, fluorescent space toward a quiet corner alcove. He pulled an ugly plastic chair away from a table adorned with a cheap vase of fake flowers, and held it out for me to sit. The chivalry of the gesture felt odd in the midst of the inelegant surroundings.
As soon as we were settled, I heard someone call my name. I looked up to find Mickey, of all people, heading straight for me in his gangly teenage stride. He’d abandoned the Goth thing completely and dyed his hair brown. “I knew we were destined to have coffee together…” he dropped into silence as he rounded the corner and saw that I wasn’t alone.
“Hi, Mickey. What are you doing here—is everyone okay?” I asked, ignoring the disappointed look that flashed across his face at the discovery of Sparrow’s presence.
“Um yeah, no, I’m just visiting a friend,” he fumbled, his eyes darting from Sparrow and back to me.
“Well, I hope your friend’s alright. Tell your Mom I said ‘hi’ and I’ll talk to her Monday, okay?”
“Alright, I guess I’ll catch you later.”
“Bye, Mickey.” I gave him a smile and a wave as he hurried away.
Mickey looked back once before he darted out a side exit into the hallway and Sparrow’s eyes followed him until he was gone.
“Who was that?”
“Oh, just my boss’ son,” I smirked. “I think he might have developed a crush on me. He’s seventeen. I’m sure he’ll get over it in a day or two.”
Sparrow raised a dark eyebrow and gave a noncommittal nod.
I tore open a pink packet of sweetener and carefully sprinkled half into my iced tea, stirring it with my straw as the questions I wanted to ask percolated