All Together Dead
a bright sun. It felt good to be by myself. I might be wearing rubber-soled slippers, but I was dressed nicely enough, and I was clean. I ate a hot dog on my way to the hospital, a hot dog I’d bought from a street vendor, and that was something else I’d never done before. I bought a shapeless hat from a street vender, too, and stuffed all my hair up under it. The same guy had some dark glasses for sale. With the sky being so bright and the wind blowing in off the lake, the combination didn’t look too odd.
St. Cosmas was an old edifice, with lots of ornate architectural embellishment on the outside. It was huge, too. I asked about Quinn’s condition, and one of the women stationed at the busy visitors’ desk said she couldn’t give out that information. But to see if he was registered at the hospital, she’d had to look up his records, and I plucked his room number from her thoughts. I waited until all three of the women were occupied with other queries, and I slipped into the elevator and rode up.
Quinn was on the tenth floor. I’d never seen a hospital so large, and I’d never seen one so bustling. It was easy to stride around like I had a purpose and knew where I was going.
There was no one on guard outside his room.
I knocked lightly, and there wasn’t a sound from inside. I pushed open the door very gently and stepped inside. Quinn was asleep in the bed, and he was attached to machines and tubes. And he was a fast-healing shifter, so his injuries must have been grievous. His sister was by his side. Her bandaged head, which had been propped on her hand, jerked up as she became aware of my presence. I pulled off the sunglasses and the hat.
“You,” she said.
“Yeah, me, Sookie. What’s Frannie short for, anyway?”
“It’s really Francine, but everyone calls me Frannie.” She looked younger as she said it.
Though I was pleased at the decreased hostility, I decided I’d better stay on my side of the room. “How is he?” I asked, jerking my chin at the sleeping man.
“He fades in and out.” There was a moment of silence while she took a drink from a white plastic cup on the bedside table. “When you woke him up, he got me up,” she said abruptly. “We started down the stairs. But a big piece of ceiling fell on him, and the floor went out from beneath us, and the next thing I knew, some firemen are telling me some crazy woman found me while I was still alive, and they’re giving me all kinds of tests, and Quinn’s telling me he was going to take care of me until I was well. Then they told me he had two broken legs.”
There was an extra chair, and I collapsed onto it. My legs just wouldn’t hold me. “What does the doctor say?”
“Which one?” Frannie said bleakly.
“Any. All.” I took one of Quinn’s hands. Frannie almost reached out as if she thought I’d hurt him, but then she subsided. I had the hand that was free of tubes, and I held it for a while.
“They can’t believe how much better he is already,” Frannie said just when I’d decided she wasn’t going to answer. “In fact, they think it’s something of a miracle. Now we’re gonna have to pay someone to get his records out of the system.” Her dark-rooted hair was in clumps, and she was still filthy from the blast site.
“Go buy some clothes and come back and have a shower,” I said. “I’ll sit with him.”
“Are you really his girlfriend?”
“Yes, I am.”
“He said you had some conflicts.”
“I do, but not with him.”
“So, okay. I will. You got any money?”
“Not a lot, but here’s what I can spare.”
I handed her seventy-five dollars of Mr. Cataliades’s money.
“Okay, I can stretch it,” she said. “Thanks.” She said it without enthusiasm, but she said it.
I sat in the quiet room and held Quinn’s hand for almost an hour. In that time, his eyes had flickered open once, registered my presence, and closed again. A very faint smile curved his lips for a moment. I knew that while he was sleeping, his body was healing, and when he woke, he might be able to walk again. I would have found it very comforting to climb on that bed and snuggle with Quinn for a while, but it might be bad for him if I did that; I might jostle him or something.
After a while, I began talking to him. I told him why I thought the crude bomb had been left outside the queen’s door, and I told him my theory about the deaths of the three Arkansas vampires. “You gotta agree, it makes sense,”
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