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Tired—a sensation she wasn’t used to—Elena rolled her eyes in tacit agreement. Wheeled to the side of the bed where she’d dragged herself off the floor, Elena debated getting herself back in. Maybe if she pushed, she could regain her strength by force.

“Ready?” Marisol bent her knees, poised to transfer Elena to the bed.

“This is so humiliating,” Elena muttered to herself.

“The quicker we do it, the quicker it will be over,” she replied like she was negotiating with a child. “Do you want help going to the bathroom first?—”

“Oh for fuck’s?—”

Marisol’s chuckle made Elena furrow her brow.

“Are you messing with me?” Elena nearly gasped. “Surely it’s against some ethical code to torment your helpless charge.”

Marisol’s smile didn’t waver. Instead, it traveled up her beautiful face and illuminated the dark green ring around her irises. “I have a feeling you can handle a little teasing.”

If Elena wasn’t in her present state she’d show the cute nurse exactly how she responded to teasing.

“I’m happy to bring you a bedpan if you prefer?—”

Elena cut her off by accepting her outstretched hands. As soon as they touched, enormous gossamer wings unfurled from Marisol’s shoulder blades, translucent and shimmering like sunlight on water. A trick of the eye. A flutter in her peripheral that would disappear if she looked at it head-on. The mesmerizing wings spanned nearly the length of the small room and made Elena add breathing to the things that her body refused to do.

“Holy shit,” Elena whispered when she landed on the bed, her upper body feeling more in her control. “I didn’t hallucinate that.”

Luminous and nothing short of ethereal, Marisol looked at her with complete ignorance. “What?”

“I’ve never met a witch like you.” Elena couldn’t stop staring. It had been so long since she’d seen something for the first time. Since she’d experienced wonder.

Marisol stared back at her, amusement gone.

She doesn’t know, Elena realized.She doesn’t even know she’s doing it. She can’t even see them.

Chapter Seven

Marisol lookedbehind her the way she had in the trauma room when the woman had woken up. There was nothing there. Whatever her patient was seeing had to be a hallucination. Marisol didn’t see anything, and obviously no one else had either.

“What are you seeing?” Marisol asked, mind buzzing with potential brain injury symptoms. There had to be something they’d yet to find. Once they had a diagnosis they could do more than keep this poor woman under observation.

“Wings,” she replied, like she couldn’t believe it herself.

“Are they still there?” Marisol reached for the penlight in the ample pocket of the fresh scrubs she’d changed into.

She shook her head. “It was only when you touched me.”

Marisol approached. “May I touch you again?”

She nodded like she was still too stunned to speak.

Looking at her smartwatch, Marisol pressed two fingers to the inside of her patient’s wrist. Ten seconds in she already knew her pulse was too low. Agitated as she was, she shouldn’t have the resting heart rate of an Olympic athlete.

“Do you see them now?” Marisol glanced up from her watch.

Disappointed, she shook her head. “I can’t remember a damn thing about witches,” she lamented. “Obviously you’re some kind of healer,” she added. “When you touched me just now, I felt so much better.” She flexed her hands, looking at them like they belonged to someone else.

Marisol clicked on her penlight, checking the woman’s pupils. They contracted normally. “I’m just a regular nurse, no special talents,” she joked, remaining calm. “But human touch can be very powerful medicine.”

Marisol ran through a basic neurological exam, assessing her cognitive function. No obvious impairments apart from the lower body paralysis. But her memory issues were still extensive. Worried by the hallucinations and serious talk of witches, Marisol began a different battery of tests.

“Do you ever hear voices that other people don’t hear?” Marisol asked, watching her reaction closely.