Danny POV
December 4th 2026
Eight a.m. I would normally be either on a call or sleeping. Instead, I am sitting next to my girlfriend in her SUV, with Marcus and some French hacker who shares the voice in our heads.
Sammy keeps glancing into the rearview at Marcus, who, despite the cold, has decided he’s carrying his coat. This leaves him in a V-neck tee, stripes very much on display on his neck and arms.
Her eyes drift toward my neck before returning to the road. Her fingers tighten slightly around the steering wheel. I have my coat on, but the neck stripes are not covered like they usually are when I am with her. I didn’t have time to apply the cover. It probably doesn't help that I didn't tuck my tail either, and it's twitching around my feet.
Lucien is doing his best to press himself as far against the door as humanly possible. I hear the faint creak of his leather jacket as he shifts against the seat. Marcus is sitting normally, his tail curled tightly against his leg, but every time Lucien relaxes enough to drift even an inch closer, Marcus glares him back toward the door.
Sammy has noticed.
“So, um, the hotel up by the courthouse?”
Lucien is anxiously looking at Marcus as he answers.
“Yes, we just need to pull by the front. My contact is waiting downstairs for us.”
Marcus growls. “He means his girlfriend.”
Sammy’s brows raise, and she looks at me briefly before looking back to the road, her hands gripping the wheel a little tighter.
Yeah, I can just hear what she wants to say. What the hell, Dan? You had me drive your brother who hates me, and some French guy who may or may not be tangled up with your brother, and your brother also hates.
Oh yeah, this is really helping my relationship.
We are pulling in front of the hotel within a moment. Charleston ain’t huge, so thankfully the drive is short.
I look at who is standing in front. A few random people are taking in luggage. Then I notice a woman standing by the door. She is not what I expected. Somehow, a secret operative of a shadow agency had made me think: black business suit and glasses.
She is dressed modestly. Her hair and ears are covered in fabric that is draped gracefully; her clothing is flowing and covers her body. Her legs are swallowed by a long skirt. The fabrics themselves are a mixture of colors, all beautiful deep jewel tones.
Lucien opens the door before Sammy has fully stopped, quickly going over to the woman. We are close enough that I can hear them.
She speaks first. “Well, there you are. What the hell, Lucien? You were supposed to only be out a few hours.”
Okay, not the words I expected out of her, or the energy.
Lucien gives her a small smile and a quick kiss. If someone wasn’t watching, it would have been missed.
“Maria, my darling. I am sorry. But I have no time to explain.”
She glares at him, then looks toward us in the car. She looks right at me, and I see her glance downward. My neck. Her eyes widen a little, then she looks to him and says something low I can’t make out.
“No, no, my dear. I promise we are closer than ever to getting out of here, maybe answers.”
She shoves the big duffel bag she has been holding against his chest with a huff. I get the feeling she wanted to push harder.
“Don’t make them madder than they already are. Remember the name they said to avoid. Our jobs depend on it.”
He nods and says, “Yes, yes, of course. Tell Nia Daddy will bring her something nice when I get back.”
Maria glares at him, her arms crossed. “I’m not telling her a thing. She don’t even know I’m down here with you. Princess Nia thinks her daddy is on a trip, and we don’t know when he’s coming back.”
He adjusts the strap of the bag over his shoulder as he says, “Fair, then I will text you as I know things.” He makes a motion to pull her close again, and she steps back. The look she gives him isn’t anger, but like a reminder.
He doesn’t reach further, just nods, saying, “Of course, I am sorry. Long morning.” Then he moves toward the car.
I glance at Sammy and Marcus.
Sammy looks like she wishes she had popcorn. Marcus has a look on his face that I don’t think he means anyone to see. His tail has gone still against the seat. The way his brows are furrowed doesn’t read as anger to me, but sadness.
That look changes as soon as Lucien gets back into the car.
Lucien looks over at him, and Marcus practically spits. “You acted like nothing was wrong. You could at least act ashamed.”
Lucien looks down, his shoulders dropping a little.
I look back where Maria had been, but she’s already headed through the entrance doors.
Sammy then chooses probably the worst question.
“Why? What is wrong? I thought we were taking you to the hospital.”
I try hard to defuse things.
“It’s personal stuff.”
Marcus intervenes.
“Oh no, Frenchie, don’t get to just act like he’s some saint and sweep it under the rug for ‘politeness.’”
Lucien keeps looking down. “Marcus, please, Miss DeLuca does not need…”
Marcus keeps going. “He’s a fucking cheater, Samantha. See that pretty girl he’s with? She ain’t enough for him, gotta go breakin’ hearts…”
Marcus suddenly shuts up. Then says, “Get us to the fucken’ hospital already.” He crosses his arms and leans back in the seat, his tail flicking angrily.
Oh.
I turn around and watch the road. Sammy keeps quiet and just drives us toward General.
Lucien, I think, has managed to learn how to be absorbed into the door of the SUV.
There is real relief when Sammy pulls us into the space in front of the ER. I lean over to her, saying, “Just hold tight a sec, I’ll get these guys settled, give what information I have, and I’ll be right back out.”
She looks at me and nods. “Alright, if they make me move, I’ll be over in the KRA lot.”
I kiss her cheek, saying, “Perfect, see you soon.”
The lot is literally just up the street, so she won’t have far to go.
Lucien and Marcus are already making their way inside. Marcus is handing a clipboard to Lucien.
“Get one for yourself, you need seen too.”
“Dammit, Danny, I did this dance.”
“Not with a head injury.”
“It ain’t nothin’, little sore, that’s it. I’ll show the doc at my appointment today at four.”
I look at him with my eyes narrowed, then exhale through my nose. “Fine, but I tried.”
From behind me, I hear a familiar voice.
“Well shit, I said no more Satos in my ER, now there are two. And, Mr. Moreau? Didn’t cut yourself again, did you?”
Turning, I see Dr. Henson. We have casually known each other a while. Usually, if there’s some kind of social thing, like birthdays, Caleb invites him along.
I don’t even want to get into the chaos of our birthday; even four grown men seem to make that quite a production.
“He doesn’t have any new wounds, but I witnessed an episode for about a minute. Sitting upright, blinking, but not responsive. Once he came back, he didn’t remember anything and did not see me approach.”
Henson nods, then looks to Marcus. “And why does he have a bruise on his head?”
“Didn’t listen when we knew another episode was due to happen. And he hit the ground, but the couch broke his fall. Caleb evaluated him, didn’t see anything alarming.”
Marcus protests. “I said it was nothing!”
Henson considers that for a moment, then says, “Wait, Moreau is experiencing the phenomenon too?”
Lucien nods. “Six months, same as them.”
“This is getting more concerning.”
I speak up. “It’s been concerning; now it’s upping the stakes. So far, Caleb, Noah and I haven’t passed out. Hurts like hell, but we stay conscious.”
“You still aren’t driving, right?”
“Correct. Had my girlfriend drive us, which I need to get back to her. You got these two?”
“Oh, I have them alright, and I might keep ’em for their own good.”
Marcus makes his thoughts on this clear. “That’s it, I’m leaving.”
“You ever want to work again, Marcus?”
Marcus glares at Henson, a low, irritated rumble rolling out of his chest.
“Fine, but AMA papers exist.”
“And I can refuse to clear you.”
I walk away, shaking my head.
Coming out the door, I see security talking to Sammy.
I get in, saying, “She’s moving; was just waiting for me.”
The guard nods, saying, “Okay, everything good?”
Sammy looks to me as well. “Yep, two idiots secured for medical care.”
“Right, well, drive safe.”
Sammy gets us onto the road and heads to the on-ramp for 64.
“Where we headed?”
“You said you would go shopping with me if I helped with whatever the hell that was. Which, I think I have earned it. I am going to have to get my car vacuumed for all the hair he left behind.”
I settle back into the seat, watching as we head, presumably, up Southridge.
“Oh, it’s probably not as much as you think. We really don’t shed too much.”
She gives me a look, then keeps driving.
“So what we shopping for?”
“I have not got to just wander around Bullseye in ages, and I think you could use some new clothes.”
I look down at my clothes. I’m wearing a button-up plaid shirt, an undershirt, a good winter jacket. Pair of jeans. All in good shape.
“My clothes are fine.”
“Fine for a bachelor who grabs whatever the hell doesn’t stink.”
There's a problem with this method of wearing clothes?
“Hey, there’s no sense in wasting laundry detergent if the clothes aren’t dirty.”
“Dan, you wash your uniforms every day, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Then why not your normal clothes?”
“Normal clothes don’t encounter patients and body fluids.”
She rolls her eyes, then says, “Just let me get you a couple of things a little nicer. I want you to go to church with me Sunday, since you are probably off work.”
“Well, they might clear me before then, especially if I don’t end up passing out anytime soon.”
“That still worries me. You didn’t tell me all this time you have been getting headaches?”
I turn toward the passenger window, watching the traffic slide past rather than meeting her eyes. “Just headaches; they got worse over the week.”
Crap. When was the last one? Right before Sammy picked us up. That one hurt less, so hopefully—
And here we go.
I grip the seat and grit my teeth. Sammy looks over at me, concerned. “Dan? Should I pull over?”
After a moment, the cycle ends. “Nah, I’m fine; it comes and goes. But see, still conscious.”
She seems unconvinced but keeps driving.
“Maybe getting something to eat would help. When did you eat?”
Oh, that is a good question. Not this morning; too crazy. Last night looking for Marcus; earlier still the headaches getting worse. Well, oops, at least twenty-four hours.
“Eh, been a bit, I could go for something.”
Sammy smirks. “That measuring a Dan bit?”
“…Yeah, I think I ate yesterday.”
She pulls us into one of my favorite restaurants. It specializes in breakfast foods. I am a sucker for French toast with something bad for me sprinkled all over it. Oh, and of course whipped cream.
We park and start walking across the lot. She holds onto my elbow, and I lean over toward her. For a moment, I’m just a guy with my girl, about to demolish some breakfast.
I move to open the door for her, and I feel my tail brush her legs. Crap, I completely forgot it wasn’t safely tucked into my pants.
I continue to move as if nothing happened. She smiles at me and walks through, a little uneasy smile on her face as she looks at me.
The host asks us how many, and as he’s leading us, I tell Sammy, “One sec, babe, be right back.”
“Oh sure, Dan, want your usual?”
I’m walking toward the bathroom as I say, “Yeah, see if they have a special, you know what I like.”
Heading into the bathroom, I quickly take care of at least seeming like I went in for the facilities; then, while my pants are unbuttoned, I rearrange things so my tail goes down my pant leg.
I check in the mirror out of habit and see the lighting makes my already pale skin lighter, but the stripes oh so much darker. Well, nothing I can really do about those right now. But at least the tail is taken care of.
I wash my hands and head back out.
Sammy is browsing on her phone as I get back.
“Hey, got you the strawberry banana French toast.”
I lean and kiss her cheek before moving to sit across from her.
“Perfect.”
She’s looking at me, and I can tell there’s a lot going on behind those beautiful brown eyes.
“Go on, I know you have questions.”
“So first off, who is the French guy?”
“He says his name is Lucien Moreau. Says he can get us information, maybe even figure out the headaches.”
“So it’s not just environmental?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay, weird, but if you trust the guy…”
“I never said I trusted him.”
“Oh, so that’s why you have Loudmouth sitting with him?”
“Not exactly. Marcus knows him better than any of us, maybe too well.”
“Yeah… that does not seem like a good situation.”
I shrug. “That’s their business; it might just make Marcus more insufferable.”
She laughs a little. “Don’t think that’s possible; he has reached the limit of that scale.”
The food arrives then, and I realize just how hungry I am. The warm scent of French toast, strawberries, and sweet syrup reaches me before the plate even touches the table.
The first bite is pure heaven. A familiar rumble starts deep in my chest, and I swallow it before it becomes a purr.
Sammy giggles. “You are so cute when you get something you like.”
I grin a little, embarrassed, with my mouth clear full of French toast, and I can feel some whipped cream on my cheek.
She reaches over and catches the cream with a finger, wiping it on my lips.
I kiss her finger and smile.
She digs into her omelet. One thing I like about Sammy, she is not a girl afraid to let her guy see her eat. I am fairly sure she out-eats me on most occasions. But because she’s active, you could hardly tell.
We sit in quiet for a bit, both just enjoying our food, then she finally says, “Think I can talk you into a haircut? You look like you belong on the cover of some manga.”
I run my hand through my hair. It is a little longer than what some might call ‘neat’, and yeah, it does look kind of like I would be more at home as some animated protagonist than running calls in an ambulance, but I like the kind of scruffy look.
“Hey, we buy you a school uniform and a katana and we can fight crime together. I think you would look cute in a mini plaid skirt.”
She smiles and shakes her head. “That was not the question.”
I lift one shoulder. “I like my hair. We make it a normal cut, suddenly, I’m Kenji Sato. I still have a few years I can get by with this look.”
She takes another bite of omelet, looking me over. “Can we revisit the dye question?”
“Sure, you go pink, and I will go green. Will really go with the anime look.”
“Dan…”
“Sammy, I might not like looking too much like my Dad, but the white hair is kind of my thing I share with him. Which, can you imagine me with red hair? Orange fur…”
She frowns. “But you look like something scared the hell out of you. Or you aged too quickly.”
“Sammy, I already have weird eyes, the hair completes the look.”
“We can get you contacts.”
I take the last bite of my food.
I don’t know what to say, really.
She smiles and says, “Would you at least try some?”
I set my fork beside the empty plate, my fingers lingering against the handle.
“What color?”
“I actually ordered some brown ones. They work more naturally with your Japanese heritage.”
I close my eyes and consider it. “I’ll try them. But only when we are together, okay?”
She smiles warmly. “You are so good to me. You want another plate? You look like you are starving.”
I look to my empty plate, then back to her. “We got enough time?”
She smiles, motioning to the server. “You don’t have work, and I have vacation time to take care of my sick boyfriend.”
“I’m not sick… But if it gets me more food, I can be for a little bit.”
She giggles, and we order another plate. She gets her coffee refilled.
The rest of the meal we just talk about the weather, what her brothers have been up to. Apparently one is expecting a kid with his wife.
“You know Mom is so going to bring up the kids thing again.”
I shrug. “Eh, it’s not so bad. Just a mom being a mom. Besides, I think you would make a great mom.”
“Dan, we talked about this. We are far too busy. Besides, we have genetics to consider. Like how the kids would be affected by… certain things.”
I feel her gaze on my neck.
Point made.
I shove more French toast in my mouth.
She continues. “Besides, like you told Mom.” She holds out her left hand. “Needs to be a ring on this finger.”
I glance at my own left hand. There’s already a ring there. Just the other half never got to wear his.
My thumb finds the silver band, rubbing over the little inset diamonds.
I look to her and take her hand, caressing my thumb over her fingers.
“This is true. Gotta be good and keep the order right.”
She grins and sips her coffee. “You full of French toast now?”
I take the last bite, getting it chewed and swallowed. “For now, I may require more later.”
She laughs and shakes her head.
We get back on the road and head to Bullseye. It’s just a little way from the breakfast place, so we don’t have long in the car.
As we park, she digs in her purse and hands me a little box. It’s got a mailing label on it from an eye care place.
I have played around with colored contacts before. Mainly adding one to give me a more alternative look, like I had one that made one eye white. So the sensation of putting something on my eye isn’t alien.
Looking in the mirror and seeing dark brown eyes is.
I can see fine with ’em, so no harm in that department. And it’s not like I have to look at them all the time.
I put the visor back up and look to Sammy, who has been watching me. She smiles brightly and says, “Oooh. Looking so handsome. We need a selfie.”
Oh great, I have a feeling this is going to be a profile picture.
She pulls me close and our faces smoosh. I turn and kiss her cheek as I hear the camera noise.
“Look at the camera, silly.”
I look at the camera, but maybe intentionally smile so my teeth show.
“Dan…”
Okay, teeth hidden, small smile, arm around girlfriend. Brown eyes open and looking at camera.
She gets the picture taken.
“I sent it to you too, so you can match my picture.”
“Oh, darn, Lucien has my phone, getting information. I’ll fix it later.”
And I’ll “forget” later too. She can have her version of me. But I show up with brown eyes on my own profile, my mom will have a fit. She does not like us hiding.
We go into the store and we are surrounded by corporate versions of normal. All the ads are so perfect and tell you how you should look and what you should do. The clothes feel like standard-issue normal people’s clothes.
If left to my own devices, I probably would wear a lot more black and have more custom things. In my closet, some of those things live. But Sammy is not a fan of “goth tiger guy,” so we get a respectable, laid-back guy who mostly wears a medic uniform.
Sammy leads me to the men’s section. She holds up the bane of my existence.
A polo.
Noah is the polo kind of guy. I am not.
“Oh, this color looks good on you.”
It’s green. Nothing against green. But really? My colors are always blue. Goes with my eyes… oh yeah.
“Why a polo? There are tons of other shirt styles…”
“Because it looks put together but casual.”
“A button-up plaid shirt is also put together and casual.”
“You look like you should have a man-bun and a ridiculous beard you put jewelry in.”
“It is not that bad.”
Beards look weird on me. That’s where the white goes too far. I look like Santa. Why my eyebrows decided black was a reasonable color, but my facial hair said “nope, white,” I have no idea.
Sammy looks around some more, seeming intent that if she finds a different color polo, I might cave.
I’m looking around at the store itself, just taking inventory of who all is around. One of those things work makes normal.
Mostly middle-aged women, some with small children, some alone or with other women. It is early in the day, probably no school-aged kids are going to be around. Guys are doing a poor job of dispelling the stereotype that they don’t shop. But then again, were I to choose where I am shopping, this is not my first choice.
Then a lone guy does catch my attention.
Oh, he does not look like he belongs here. Not that good-looking men don’t belong in a Bullseye. But devastatingly handsome men in leather jackets and skinny jeans really don’t seem to fit here.
He’s turned so I can only see his profile at first. His hair is a deep reddish brown, a length much like mine. Just long enough to look messy but not neglected.
He’s too far for me to see his eyes.
He’s looking at sweaters. Those sweaters do not fit his look at all. This man fell off of a stage somewhere.
I can just barely catch his scent beneath the new fabric and floor cleaner. Leather, and something warm and resinous underneath it that reminds me of the incense Mom burns at home.
He turns toward me, and I suddenly realize I’ve been staring. I look away, but not before I notice something.
On his neck looks like a scar. It is ugly and raised, something that would have taken a hell of a lot to survive.
Sammy holds up a light blue polo. “There, you have to like this color.”
I look at it. Then back to her. “Would look better with my natural eyes.”
She pouts at me and pushes the shirt to my chest, so I take it.
“We will see what you think once you try it on.”
I groan some and steal a glance back over to the guy.
He’s looking right at me.
Our eyes meet.
For a moment, my breath catches.
Those eyes…
Then I see a moment of panic in them.
Then blinding pain.
I wake up to a penlight being shone in my eyes.
Snodgrass is saying, “Danny? Danny, you with me, bud?”
I take inventory of what I’m feeling.
Hard floor under me.
Harsh fluorescent light.
Chemical-clean fabric smell.
Snodgrass's radio crackling nearby.
But I’m not on a call with him.
I am the call.
I sit up from the floor, and the movement sends a fresh throb through my head.
My ribs remind me they, too, are still upset over the last medical emergency we had.
Snodgrass is telling me, “Take it easy, you took a hard fall.”
I look around, and shoved to the side is what looks like a rack of clothes that got knocked over. Looking at the dirt pattern on the floor, that rack used to be here beside me.
Standing a few feet away is another medic I don’t recognize, holding an arm out and saying, “Ma’am, we need room to work.”
Sammy looks like she’s about to show the woman where she can put that arm that’s currently blocking her from coming over to me.
I do a mental check. What are my symptoms?
Nausea? A little.
Pain? Yeah, but consistent with a fall. I must have dropped to my knees first; they feel like I hit concrete, which tracks.
The side of my face hurts. I reach up to check it. There's a scratch up my cheek and up to my temple.
“Hey, stop touching, we need to clean you up.”
Right, of course. I try and hold still to let him do his job.
But my mind is racing.
He’s wiping at my cheek, inspecting the injury. I say, “I was out, how long?”
“Call came in twenty-five minutes ago.”
That number registers a moment.
Then pain hits again.
I curl up and groan, my fingers gripping the fabric beneath me. But thankfully, I’m aware of Snodgrass still near me. Sammy calling to me desperately.
Once it passes, Snodgrass makes me look at him. He’s checking my eyes again.
“Right, we are getting you loaded and to the damn hospital. You don’t get to pass out on my watch.”
“I’ll be okay, it was just once…”
Snodgrass is already standing and getting the cot over. “Danny, you are on leave, now I see why. Get on the damn stretcher, or I will pick your striped ass up and carry you.”
He lowers the bed to the ground, and I exhale through my nose, moving to scoot over onto it.
“We just had to pick Southridge; I couldn’t pass out outside of my response zone…”
“Someone else would be doing the same thing I am.” He secures the straps over me.
I wasn’t conscious the last time I was transported. Kind of wish it was the same this time. Getting wheeled out of the store feels like I am on display. Sammy is following close behind.
“Dan, I have to get my car, but I will be right behind them, okay?”
“Sammy, really, I’m fine. You don’t have to come.”
“Bullshit, Dan, I’ll see you there.”
The ride is quiet. Snodgrass gets some leads on me, a BP cuff.
“We really don’t need all this…”
“You know damn well we do.”
I settle back against the cot, feeling the straps holding me in place.
“Henson is gonna kill me, he said no more Satos in the ER.”
“Yeah, already got two of ya in there from what I hear.”
“Wait, there was only one…”
“Danny, your dad got transported a little before your call came in. He was giving a class, then just dropped.”
“And no one called me?!”
“Last I heard, they were trying.”
Crap, could this be related? Dad has been fine this whole time. Never mentioned a voice, or even headaches.
Suddenly, I can’t get to the hospital soon enough.
As we are backing into the bay, I am working to get leads and straps off.
“Danny, I swear to God…”
“You got me here, good enough.”
He pushes me so my back is against the cot again.
“You are staying put till this rig stops. And I can’t let you go till someone signs off on you.”
I look toward the rear doors, my fingers curling around the edge of the mattress. Of course he’s right. I have done so many damn handoffs I could do it in my sleep. And I have held many patients back down on a cot, telling them the exact same thing.
“Fine, but once you get this cot into the hospital, not your fault if I go wandering.”
“Not till someone signs off.”
The rig finally stops; the other medic, Tammy Greyson, according to Snodgrass, opens the doors and helps get me out.
We make it into the hall, and I see maybe the one person I really didn’t want to run into.
Emma Sato stands there in jeans and an oversized sweater. Her red curly hair is up in a messy bun, like I always see it when she’s been at work at the school. She’s the regular art teacher at Riverside High. Except I see some hair has fallen, so she looks a lot more frazzled than usual.
She sees me and gasps a little, then her eyes narrow.
Crap, she must have run into Marcus first.
Snodgrass gets the cot positioned along the wall and pats me on the shoulder. “I’ll let you two catch up, I’ll get you handed off.”
Mom watches Snodgrass, then steps closer.
On instinct, I give the same little chuff I do for family. She gives her own little version of the greeting, then—
“Daniel James Sato…”
“Mom, I’m fine…”
“No. Marcus told me you and your brothers are not. And I already knew your dad has been dealing with something weird for months now! And now he’s unconscious, and here you are. What happened to you? And your eyes?!”
Her hand goes to the uninjured side of my face, pulling me closer to look at me.
I try and pull away, just because I’m twenty-seven, a medical professional; I do not need my mom taking care of me…
She more firmly holds onto my jaw to turn my face side to side.
“Mom, I fell, and contacts…”
She looks confused a moment and is about to say something, but then I hear.
“Dan? Oh hey, Mrs. Sato, you got here fast.”
Mom lets go of my face and turns to Sammy.
“Hi Samantha, I was here because Kenji was brought here. Then I learn my biggest baby is here, and then one of his brothers is getting wheeled in. I expect the other two are coming here shortly.”
“Caleb and Noah haven’t shown signs…”
Mom turns quickly back to me.
“How many times have you and Marcus passed out?”
“Marcus twice, me once.”
Sammy adds in.
“He seemed fine before. One minute we are shopping, then suddenly I hear him yell out ‘Obey,’ and then he’s on the floor.”
“Wait, I don’t remember saying anything…”
“Yeah, you didn’t exactly yell, almost sounded more like an order. Confused the hell out of me. You never sound like that.”
Mom goes very still, her hand tightening slightly around the edge of the cot.
And the pit of my stomach feels frozen.
Sammy looks like she’s about to say something else; she’s biting her lip in the way she does before saying something she’s unsure of.
“Daniel Sato, we had you clear of here…”
I look to Henson. “In my defense, I tried really hard not to come.”
Henson is holding a chart and nods. “So it says in your report. Now, what is this I hear of him saying something?”
“He said ‘obey,’ like clear and forceful. No mistaking it. It was weird, cause he didn’t look in pain when I looked at him. He looked like he was standing at attention.”
What the actual hell?
But am I surprised? The damn thing has been ordering me for months…
Henson’s brow furrows.
“That is very concerning. We need to get the same tests we did on Marcus. And Emma, can you see about getting your other two kittens here? I need to get them looked at before someone falls down the stairs or something.”
Mom nods and pulls out her phone. “I’ll go get them myself. I do not want them to get stupid and try driving.”
“How is Dad?”
Henson sighs. “He’s stable. Nothing indicates why he hasn’t woken up yet.”
Sammy speaks up. “Dan was out around twenty minutes. Took the ambulance forever, but he was breathing…”
“Did you time that?”
She nods. “Dan has always told me how important it is.”
Good. I’m glad my incessant ranting actually taught her something.
Henson continues, “Alright, let’s get you to a bed. I’m working on clearing rooms to put you all in, but I was already working with a full house.”
I groan. “I don’t need in another hospital room, I already can tell you how many ceiling tiles a room has.”
Henson gives me a look. “Count the floor tiles, because you are not getting out of this.”
Mom turns around from her phone call. “Damn right, by order of Mom.”
Sammy reaches out and takes my hand. “I’ll be with you this time. Like I should have last time.”
I look at her and just squeeze her hand.
Mom announces, “Okay, finally got a hold of Noah, he and Caleb were sleeping. I told them I am coming. Please call if Kenji wakes up. Danny, I love you. Stop scaring me.”
I nod to her.
She hugs me, then looks into my eyes. “Take them damn contacts out. They look awful.” Then turns to go.
I glance at Sammy. She pulls the box out of her purse. “Let’s clean your hands, and we can fix that.”
Henson speaks up. “Yeah, that will make tests a lot easier too. Meanwhile, I need to check on your brother and Mr. Moreau. I can’t exactly tell you what’s happened with him, but it’s significant.”
I want badly to ask after that, but I realize that, just because we share some symptoms, I am not an authorized person privy to his medical information.
Sammy helps me get the contacts out. As I’m looking in the compact mirror she loaned me, a tiny feeling of ‘okay, things are better’ settles as my ice-blue eyes look back at me.
A nurse I have seen before but never really spoken to comes over holding a gown. “We got you a bed, you are gonna have to wear this.”
Of course I am.
Snodgrass finally reappears and helps get me transferred to the bed, then says, “Stop passing out, I’d like my partner back. Greyson doesn’t let me make snack stops.”
Sammy helps me get changed. I am very aware my tail has nothing holding it still now. At first, I enjoy the freedom, letting it twitch and sway. The muscles at its base relax as it moves naturally again.
Then I see Sammy pointedly looking away.
I get back on the bed and tuck it under me quickly, pulling a sheet over me. My striped legs now covered. I’m very aware of the short sleeves of the gown too. Tiger guy is very much on display, whether I like it or not.
Sammy helps me adjust the sheet. “If you are cold, I am sure they have like, a jacket or something. I think I saw one the same color…”
I’m not cold. Not really. But that will probably change as I sit here. Hospitals are always kept cold.
“We can ask the nurse when they come back.”
Sammy nods and sits down beside the bed, leaning so she can take my hand. She makes a motion to rub her other hand along my arm, but pulls back, putting her hand back at her side.
My hand only has stripes on the back of it.
My arms are covered in stripes.
I lean back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
We sit there in silence for a few minutes.
“Dan, right as you fell. There was this guy…”
I look at her.
The leather jacket guy. I almost forgot him.
“He do something?”
“He grabbed his head the same time you went weird. I noticed because it was such a big gesture.”
What the hell…
“He say anything?”
“Just ‘fuck,’ then looked really scared and took off running.”
Wait, Caleb mentioned a guy…
Either we are getting stalked by a gang of wannabe rock stars, or we saw the same guy.
But if he knows things, why run? He maybe could have helped me as I was face-planting into a clothing rack.
Lucien’s shadow people?
But he says they don’t actually want anything to do with us. And he never said they knew anything about the Whisper. This guy apparently responded to something at the same time.
“Dan, you didn’t seem surprised about the word you said. That’s a pretty weird word.”
I rub a hand over my face.
“Not so weird. I’ve been hearing it every half hour for six damn months.”
I look at her, and there is a mixture of shock and anger in her eyes.
“Dan, say that again.”
Shit.
“Since I woke up from the wreck. The guys say it began that night, but I wasn’t awake till a few days later.”
“And this is why all of you are now getting seen?”
“Yeah… It only started really hurting last week, and yesterday Marcus passed out and the pain got worse for everyone.”
“So you have been hearing a voice?”
“Yeah, a woman, but like something else under her too.”
Sammy rubs her hands over her face, then looks at me.
“Am I not your girlfriend?”
“Of course you are.”
“So, you didn’t think I should know my boyfriend has been hearing voices for six fucking months?”
“It’s not really voices, more a recording…”
“Not the point.”
“I didn’t want to worry you. I mean, you have your work to do. I know that promotion put a lot of pressure on you.”
“Dan, if I am going to be your wife someday, I need to be let in.”
It comes out before I can hold it back.
“Let you in but leave the stripes behind, right?”
“That’s not fair.”
“How is it not? Tell me one thing about you I have asked you to change.”
She looks down. Her shoulders slump.
“Sammy, I’m sorry… it’s been a hell of a morning…”
She stands, keeping her eyes to the floor.
“Your mom will be back soon. I better go.”
“Sammy, please…”
She looks at me now.
“You need rest, Dan, and I haven’t been a part of this for six months. Why start now?”
She walks out, closing the door behind her.
Good job, Danny. Piss off your girlfriend when she’s done nothing but support you.
I feel my tail fighting to flick under me. I shift so it can finally move freely.
I watch how it moves beside me. The white fur with the black stripes as familiar as my face. It’s just a part of me. True, it tells on me sometimes when I forget to hold it still and an emotion leaks through. But it’s like someone’s face telling on them.
I knew Sammy wasn’t fond of it before we started dating.
Hell, I knew it back in high school when I took her to prom.
I couldn’t take the person I was actually dating. David wanted to go with me. But I was—and still am—scared to let the world know the weird tiger guy also has a strong fondness for both men and women.
Then popular and very pretty Samantha DeLuca asked, “Hey, you want to go to prom? My date cancelled on me, and well, I already have my dress.”
David suggested I go with her. He was taking his best friend, Lia. It was all fine as far as he was concerned. He was hiding too. Actually, his parents would have been more pissed off than mine. Mine knew about him.
Sammy had met up with me that day at school, handing me a bag. “Here, a friend of mine uses this to cover her tattoo she’s not supposed to have.”
“Oh, these aren’t tattoos…”
“Should still work. And hey, can you maybe not have that…” She nods to my tail swishing behind me. “Out in the tux. I’d like to look good in pictures.”
So Sammy got her perfect prom.
And yeah, I had a good time.
When David moved to California a few weeks later to take care of his mom, Sammy and I decided to date. She went off to college in the fall, and I started medic training.
I met Colt in between then.
Sammy had no idea what he meant to me when she came back to town.
She just knew my work partner had been found, by me, murdered.
I look at the silver band on my left hand. The little inset diamonds glint in the light.
What would my life have been if he had actually gotten to put it on me at a ceremony and not Caleb handing it to me at the funeral?
My thoughts are interrupted by the pain again.
Her voice feels like someone turned up the volume by one hundred.
I hear shouting down the hall as the cycle ends.
Shit, probably Marcus.
Well, no one told me I had to stay here. Cycle just happened; I’m not a fall risk for around twenty minutes…
I grab a second gown and wrap it around the back of me, just wearing it backwards. I really don’t have time for socks, so I head down the hall barefoot.
The ER got upgraded, and now most everything is closed-off rooms, no longer curtains that pretend there’s privacy.
I have no idea what room my brother or my father is in.
I spot a nurse running out to the lobby. A security guard follows close behind her.
Okay, now I’m really worried.
I rush to the door and get to the lobby in time to see my dad punch a security guard.
I can only stand there a moment as I see people trying to restrain him. He seems intent on going out the door.
He’s still in a gown, leads dragging the floor as if he simply got up and walked.
I look at him closer. His tail is hanging limp. No agitation. No movement at all.
I rush to him, trying to turn him toward me.
I get punched square in the nose. Pain flashes across my face, and the force knocks me on my ass.
Then I see red hair rushing through the entry, times three.
Noah must have seen him punch me. He rushes him and goes low, like a football player making a tackle.
He pushes him against the wall. Caleb is right behind him, shouting, “Dad!”
Mom is there screaming too, “Kenji, what the hell?!”
Dad hasn’t made a sound. Tail still limp. He hasn’t tried to fight them.
Then he tries to push off the wall. Noah isn’t built like Marcus, but he isn’t weak either. He keeps trying to hold Dad against the wall.
Dad twists his body and manages to get Noah off him. I notice just how much Noah’s tail is moving compared to Dad’s.
His looks like it could beat someone to death just from being too close. Dad’s still just hanging.
Caleb moves to tackle him this time. Mom is still yelling.
Dad finally turns his head, looking at her.
The look on her face tells me something is very wrong.
Finally, a nurse goes through the entrance and administers a sedative.
Mom goes to him and puts her hands on his face, begging, “Kenji! Speak to me, baby! Please!”
I hear Dad say something, but the words make no sense. They aren’t English or Japanese.
But they sound fluent.
Then he collapses. Noah catches him.
Mom is crying hard as she helps lay him down.
I hear Henson yelling.
“What the hell is going on?!”
He stands next to me. I am still sitting on the floor.
Staff gets Dad moved to a bed someone brought in. I see them strapping restraints on him.
Someone tells Henson, “He was like the other one. Got farther.”
Lucien. Yeah, that’s significant.
Henson looks down at me. “What the hell are you doing? What happened to your nose?”
I am suddenly aware of how painful my nose is. And the blood dripping down onto my gown.
“I tried to help.”
“Someone get this man in a bed, and restrain him if he gets out of it!”
After they get me back to my room, I am only allowed out of bed for testing and the bathroom. And both of those occasions require an escort.
Though the one they assigned me isn’t terrible. Nice guy, says his name is Trent. I keep telling myself there’s no way he’s flirting with the beaten-up tiger guy, but I swear he has been watching my tail, and not because he’s disgusted.
My nose apparently is broken.
They got the bleeding stopped fairly quickly. I actually broke it in the crash, so this isn’t a new feeling. But it isn’t a good one.
Trent is browsing his phone as I lie on the bed, trying to think at what point I would need to take a time machine back to get the hell out of this bed.
I hear a soft knock, then Mom calls through the door, “Hey, decent in there?”
“Come on in, Mom, everyone is decent.”
Trent pipes up. “As far as you know.”
Mom gives him a look. “I didn’t say minds. Go get you some food; I have him for a little.”
Trent stands. “You promise not to let him out of your sight? I will be just down at the desk.”
She pats him on the shoulder. “I’ve taken care of him for twenty-seven years; I’ve got him.”
Trent looks at me, and now I know I haven’t been imagining things.
He gives me a little smirk and a wink as he says, “Don’t go breaking anything else while I’m gone. Gotta keep your good looks.”
Oh, how do you stop blushing?
I do not need my mom to see me blushing as I lie here in a hospital bed with a broken nose…
The door closes, and Mom sits beside the bed. “Well, he’s cute. Too bad you are his patient.”
“Mom, I have Sammy.”
She looks around the room. “Do you?”
“How’s Dad?”
“He’s finally back to himself. He feels terrible about what happened.”
“He remember any of it?”
“Nothing, not even what he said to me. Danny… your father was not in his body in that moment. Whatever was, it wasn’t human or whatever your father is, those eyes looked through my soul…”
I reach for her to hug her close. “Mom, you were stressed beyond belief; I wouldn’t trust what you saw.”
She pushes gently away. “Danny. Noah and Caleb told me all about what has been going on. The voice. Tell me, what medical explanation is that?”
“Mass hysteria?”
“That doesn’t work like that. And I have listened to your dad every night repeat those words every half hour. When he’s awake, he holds them back, but sleep…”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Why didn’t you four tell us?”
I lean back against the bed.
“We have any kind of answers?”
“Noah said that French guy had found something before he had an incident. But Dr. Henson took away his gear and said he needed rest.”
“Fantastic. Hey, Mom, have you maybe seen a guy around, kinda short, leather jacket, awful scar on his throat?”
She considers for a moment.
“Can’t say I have. But then again, it’s winter, lots of coats.”
“This wasn’t a winter coat… Hey, Dad’s buddy Johnson—think he could help us get some surveillance footage from Bullseye?”
“That’s where you fell, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll get it. One of my students’ mothers is the district manager.”
Of course Mom knows someone.
“Thanks, Mom. How is Marcus?”
“Oh, he’s Marcus. Is there something with him and the French guy?”
I laugh a little.
“He being that obvious?”
“Oh yeah. He’s trying hard, but I’ve seen that look. What did the French guy do?”
“His name is Lucien, and apparently he forgot to tell Marcus he had a girlfriend.”
“Ouch, yeah, that explains it.”
We sit a moment in silence as she gets her phone out, presumably texting her student’s mother.
Then she says, “So when is Sammy coming back?”
“Don’t know.”
“She’s doing it again, just like your wreck. Leaving me an’ your brothers to take care of you.”
“I pissed her off.”
“How you do that, have blue eyes?”
“Mom… She was pissed I didn’t tell her about the voice.”
“Okay, fair. But not ‘leave your boyfriend in the hospital’ material.”
“She also brought up marriage… and I brought up how she hates the tiger parts of me.”
She looks toward the door. A conspiratorial grin spreads across her face. Oh, I know this look.
“I bet I can get Trent’s number. Wait a couple days once you are out of the hospital…”
“Mom! You are not trying to fix me up with someone while I am still with Sammy.”
She lifts one shoulder and returns her attention to her phone.
“She left, her loss.”
I roll my eyes and lean back.
Mom is definitely where Marcus gets his charming menace qualities from.
“They lock up Noah and Caleb?”
“Not as badly as you; they know how to follow medical advice.”
“So Marcus has an escort too?”
“Yep. What told me there was something between him and Lucien was how he’s been acting since the guy started just walking like he was sleepwalking. But he kept just bumping into the wall. Best I can figure, your dad knows this hospital. That guy doesn’t.”
“What direction was he trying to go?”
Mom looks confused for a moment, then says, “Out towards, like, the river.”
I stare at her.
“West.”