Page 4 of Dark Medicine (Strange Gifts #2)
Adam walked through the front doors of the hotel, the massive antique chandelier illuminating the foyer. To the right, the small dining hall where late afternoon, early evening tea revelers were still enjoying their break. On the left was the massive bar. The huge oak curved around the space, the massive mirrored panels filled with every libation you could want or desire. Sitting at the far end, he spotted Flip and Spook.
“What’s up, asshole? You were supposed to meet us here over an hour ago,” said Flip in a frustrated tone.
“Sorry, man, I had a damsel in distress situation,” he said, sitting between the two men.
“Damn! Why is it always you? I mean, does she have a sister or something?” asked Spook.
Adam said nothing at first, looking around the space. In the corner was a small table with three seats, and he nodded toward it. The three men stood and moved to the table.
“What’s up, brother? This sounds serious,” said Flip.
“I think she’s one of us,” he said. He waited until the words soaked in for his friends. Their faces finally made the connection with his words.
“One of us? Like freaky one of us?” asked Flip.
“Yea. I met her because some asshole clipped her with his motorcycle on the street while she was out running. She flew into the air and took a tumble on the concrete hard. Since she was running, she had on typical running attire, so it wasn’t like she had on lots of clothing to pad her fall. I held out my hand so I wouldn’t scare her,” he said, looking at his friends.
“Yea, ‘cause you holding out your hand scares women all the time,” said Spook sarcastically. Even as another man, Spook could admit that his friend was handsome and appealing to women. A woman would have no issue holding Adam Thorn’s hand.
“Not my fault you’re ugly,” quipped Adam. Truth was, Spook was probably the most handsome of them all in the traditional way. He was the all-American boy. Auburn-haired, blue-eyed, six feet of lean muscle, and smart as hell.
“Anyway, she took my hand, and I did, well, I did what I do. There was nothing broken, no internal bleeding, which was shocking in and of itself, but I could tell her ankle was messed up. Just a bad sprain, but she would limp for a while.”
“Okay, so where is this going?” asked Flip.
“I asked her to dinner. She’s beautiful, and I was curious. While we were eating, she crossed her leg and rubbed her ankle. Just a gentle easy massage, nothing forceful. She was telling me about the death of her brother, and I reached across for her hand.”
“What a shithead? While she was talking about her dead brother?”
“Not like that dickhead! I was just being consoling. Anyway, I didn’t feel anything.”
“So, she’s just not the girl for you,” said Spook.
“Are you always this dense, or are you just trying to be fucking annoying? No! I felt nothing, like no sprain, no swelling, no bruising, nothing.” Adam paused, thinking back on the moment. “In fact, I didn’t think of it until just now, but her road rash burns on her hands were gone. Completely healed.”
“Whoa, you mean after she rubbed her own ankle, you touch her, and there’s nothing?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. And there’s more. When she grabbed my hand the first time, there was this, I don’t know, like an electrical shock and something super crazy happening in her brain. I knew she was different, maybe like us.”
“Damn, what are you going to do?” asked Spook.
“She’s picking me up in the morning, and we’re going for a run up at Wicklow. She’ll bring me to the hotel to meet all of you for dinner. Hopefully, I can figure this out before then.”
“But how?” asked Flip. “I mean, we made the connection with all of us to the base and potentially that pink powder. How could an Irish girl have been exposed to that?”
“I don’t know,” he said, looking down at his beer. “I’ll try to ask more questions tomorrow. The other thing is, she’s a lot younger than all of us. Kane and I are both thirty-seven, you guys are both thirty-five, Aislinn is thirty-one. This girl can’t be more than twenty-five or so.”
“Well, I, for one, will be glad when we leave this place. I love Kane and Aislinn, mostly for taking Kane off our hands,” Spook grinned at his friends, “but this place is miserable with all the rain.”
“Yea,” grinned Adam, “I said the same thing to Fiona. She said the weather is the weather. Get better clothing.”
“She has a point there,” said Flip, grinning at his friends. “Maybe we should make a run to that street of shops around the corner and buy some different gear. I, for one, could use a good raincoat and maybe some warmer sweaters.”
Adam and Spook nodded, dropped the cash on the table, and headed back out toward the stores on Grafton. The door attendant handed them all umbrellas, and they gladly took one. Adam and Spook purchased Barbour rain gear and wool scarves, but Flip was having a serious issue finding anything to fit. At six-foot-five and two hundred and seventy pounds, he wasn’t exactly the typical Irishman.
At the last store they walked into, the woman was about to close the doors when they stepped inside.
“We’re closing up,” she said, smiling at the men with a weary, tired smile, no doubt having dodged tourists and locals alike for a ten-hour shift.
“I just need to know if you have a raincoat to fit me,” said a frustrated Flip. The woman looked up at the mountain of a man and nodded.
“I do indeed. You’re a big boy, you are, but we have big boys here in Ireland as well. I’ve a few sweaters as well. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into the back room, and the three stood in the middle of the store, just staring at displays. A few minutes later, she walked out with three coats, all identical in style. One was blue, one green, and one khaki. She also handed him two sweaters, one navy and one the traditional Irish fishing sweater.
“I’ve worn enough khaki in my day. I’ll take the blue and both sweaters,” said Flip. The coat was a classic short zip-up style, which suited him just fine.
“Grand, just grand.” She rang up the sale and watched as the giant of a man moved out into the night. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way, but it wasn’t the first time she wondered what Americans put in their food to make them so large.
Back at the hotel, the three retired to their rooms, all on the same floor in a row. Adam put his new jacket on a hanger and took a quick shower, warming his chilled body. He couldn’t get Fiona out of his mind. Her blue eyes, the fire-red hair, the freckles. He wanted to kiss each one of those little dots, but he was also curious about her abilities.
Stepping out of the shower, he dried off, and, as was customary, he slid between the sheets naked. Turning off the light, he noticed a blinking red light on his room phone. Clicking the button for voicemail, he listened.
Hi, ummm, I hope this is Adam Thorn. This is Fiona Graham. Although it occurs to me if you’re not Adam Thorn, I just gave my name to a stranger in a hotel. You helped me this evening after I was hit by the motorcycle. Of course you’d remember that. I mean, how many women do you help that get hit by motorcycles? Plus, you bought me dinner. Well, you probably buy lots of women dinner. Okay, I’m rambling now. I do that when I’m nervous. I just wanted to thank you again and say, well, I’m looking forward to our run. I hope you have a good bed… I mean, damn!… I hope you sleep well. Alright, I’m done humiliating myself now. See you tomorrow.
Adam smiled as he hung up the phone. She was nervous, and if he was any judge at all, she had a bit of a crush on him. This trip was turning around fast.