Page 18

It was slow going making it from the bed to the door without falling on my face or waking anyone up. With all of the unconscious people filling the hospital room, it was like an obstacle course that was doubling as a sobriety test!

My legs were unbelievably shaky, and each step was agonizing; it felt as if icy needles were stabbing into my flesh and feet with each step I took, but hunger, and the need for pants, pushed me onward.

The door opened without a sound, and I peeked out into the hallway.

Four Sentinels were on the far end of the hallway getting coffee, speaking amongst themselves by the nurses' station. In the opposite direction, I caught a glimpse of the backs of the Sentinels that rounded the corner at the end of the hallway.

That gave me ten seconds.

I slipped out into the hallway and went in the direction that the patrol had already cleared then darted into the pass-through supply room that was kitty-corner from my room, falling as I went.

It wasn't my finest moment.

I stayed sprawled out on the floor and waited, making sure the Sentinels or nurses didn't see my anything but a graceful attempt at being stealthy.

When no one came to wrangle me back to my room, I pulled on a pair of scrubs from the clean linens cart in the storage area, stashing my gown in the dirty linens bag before getting to my feet so I could make a run for it.

All of the tutors I had growing up and my ancestors would be shaking their heads because of how ridiculous I looked as I staggered, using the wall for support, heading towards the employee elevator.

I knew where I was now.

This was the same hospital that I did my rehabilitation at when I broke my leg and pelvis; we're in Seattle, Washington. The floors were divided into two sides with medical suites in the middle for in-care services and therapy; the side I was hobbling down was vacant of patients and the roaming patrol had already passed.

It was a private medical facility with a Board of Directors that were all card-carrying members of Thaumaturgy and a medical staff that straddles the line between both worlds; human and thaumaturgy. I didn't know how my parents could afford this place, especially after the month I spent in a bed immobilized and the many weeks of rehabilitation after my tree-climbing incident when I was younger. I freaked out about it back then; I thought it was going to bankrupt us!

Father explained that because they are employees of the King and Queen of the Unified House—Mother is a Barrister for the Imperial Court and Father is in charge of their house—the King and Queen took care of it for them like medical insurance of sorts.

After the first time I was here, I made the King and Queen a thank you card with a picture of the family in it. They sent me flowers in return with a typed thank you card for my thank you card I had sent them; being a kid that was so cool, like getting a movie star's autograph!

The King and Queen of the Unified House are very private and sequestered. Very few know what they look like for security purposes, but the power they wield is not to be questioned or doubted.

From what the Academy teaches, the current King and Queen are the most praised in history because they believe in equality, have disdain for drama and ridiculous politics—they are a lot like me, at least I like to tell myself that when it comes to bureaucratic bullshit—and their patience is admirable.

It made me wonder if Viggo had ever met them.

Only those of the first Five Houses of the various races had the honor of gracing the Imperial Court, and it was safe to assume those that did have met the King and Queen of the Unified House, though that was only conjecture.

It was just another thing to add to the long list of things to ask Viggo about when I was fed, and we had some privacy, and I wasn't causing drama with my sudden unexplained medical issues.

I took the employee elevator to the main level and headed to the cafeteria.

I remember it being open twenty-four hours when I was here before; my brother would always run and grab us food at all hours of the night when a craving hit because he wouldn't leave my side when I was in the hospital.

Personally, I think it was his way of getting away from Mother and the unlimited access we had at the hospital to human television that we were denied growing up.

When I walked past the wall of mirrors lining the main hallway on one side, I stopped and studied my face.

"Oh, fun. I look like shit," I said, trying to smooth my hair down.

Dark circles were under my eyes, my pallor was slightly pale considering my naturally darker skin tone, and I was at least fifteen pounds underweight.

That was only possible if I had been here longer than a few hours.

"How long has it been this time?" I grumbled, studying my face.

There was a necklace around my neck that wasn't there before, and it didn't belong to me.

"Viggo was wearing this before," I mumbled, trying to pull it into my view but the chain wasn't long enough so I used the mirror to study it. "This belongs to his family, not mine; I'm not Jewish. Father is Buddhist and Mother is an atheist. Why am I wearing it now... Something went down."

My stomach growled.

"Shh," I warned, patting my stomach. "You'll alert security I made a break for it," I whispered, heading towards the cafeteria.

The area was quiet and I hadn't seen anyone, not even the roaming guards or cleaning staff, but I could hear the sound of dishes being stacked so I followed it to the cafeteria.

Beautiful, sparkling rows of Jell-O in sealed plastic cups shined from the overhead lights like crystals, and they were exactly what I was looking for.

Sure, there was other food there, but I wanted the Jell-O.

"Hello?" I whispered, trying to keep from getting caught by security, looking around for someone to ring me up, but no one was there. "Okay, I'm going to take like three dozen of these, can you bill my room?" I asked, then grabbed a tray and loaded it with all of the blue Jell-O then headed to the dining room.

As I passed the cash register, I grabbed three pencils from the pen cup to pull my hair back with.

I took the table in the far corner and sat with my back against the wall as my training would dictate; back against the wall means no one can come up behind you.

Something was wrong, a little voice in the back of my head was screaming at me to get out, as did the strange hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Jell-O usually cheered me up, but this time it wouldn't.

Everyone in the kitchen was dead.