Page 24 of Dark Shaman: The Lost Treasure (The Children Of The Gods #98)

HILDEGARD

A smile played on Hildegard's lips as she closed the door to Tim's room behind her.

What a character.

She'd been warned, of course, but all she'd heard were the negatives.

What they hadn't mentioned was that he was funny.

Or that beneath the sarcasm lay a charming, quick wit and self-deprecating humor.

They certainly hadn't warned her about the way his whole face transformed when he smiled—a real smile, not the cutting smirk she'd expected.

Tim was just a sharp-tongued and sharp-minded guy who wielded his snark and sarcasm as weapons of self-defense. He was like a cute porcupine, protecting a soft interior with a prickly exterior.

"How's our problem child doing?" Julian asked as she entered his office.

"He's fine," Hildegard said as she sat down. "Awake, alert, and already hitting on me."

Julian's eyebrows rose. "Tim? That's bold. Should I adjust his medications to make him mellower?"

She laughed. "Don't you dare. I enjoyed every moment. He certainly makes things interesting, and he's also doing very well, as evidenced by the huge erection he sprouted when he saw me. Quite impressive for a guy his size."

As she'd expected, Julian's expression turned pinched. He was so proper for someone so young, and he didn't like the way she talked.

Well, tough.

Mentioning Tim's erection was medically relevant, and she wasn't going to twist herself into a pretzel trying to describe it in terms that didn't offend Julian's sensibilities.

He glanced at his desktop screen, and she suspected that he had done so not because he wanted to go over Tim's readouts but because he was trying to avert his gaze from her.

Fun times. She loved making the young stiff uncomfortable.

"His readings are remarkable. Who would have suspected that Tim was so close to the source? He was like a remote bet that Kian put off testing for years since he first suspected that Tim's ability was more than a talent."

That got her attention. "How is that possible? The guy certainly doesn't look like he has an abundance of godly genes."

Tim had a nice face, but he was short, pudgy, and balding. Dormants, even those who were far removed from the source, were usually good-looking.

"Does he need my attention?" Julian asked, looking like he hoped she would say no.

"He's weak, obviously, and experiencing the usual discomforts. But he's coherent and responsive. I hope the erection resolves itself without medical intervention because I'm sure it's not comfortable given the catheter. If not, you might want to give him something for that."

Julian shook his head. "Do you know the saying, birds of a feather?"

She arched a brow. "Flock together?"

"Yeah. You two should be getting along splendidly."

"My sparkling bedside manner is why patients love me," she said. "People like honesty, not fake smiles. If someone's being a pain in my ass, I tell them. If they're doing well, I tell them that too. No sugar-coating from me."

"No wonder you charmed the pants off the notorious grump."

Was Tim grumpy?

Not really. He was snarky, and it wasn't the same.

"I like him. He's refreshingly honest about being an asshole instead of pretending to be nice while thinking asshole thoughts." She pushed to her feet. "Plus, he called my smart mouth one of my best features. The guy has taste."

Julian sighed dramatically. "Do I need to remind you to maintain proper boundaries?"

"Please." She rolled her eyes. "When have I ever crossed professional boundaries?"

"Do you want the list chronologically or alphabetically?"

"That guy wasn't my patient. I was done treating him first, and then I spent the night with him." That wasn't entirely true since she'd checked his incisions the next morning, but it was such a trivial thing that it wasn't worth mentioning.

Living by the rules was boring, and as long as she didn't harm anyone by breaking them, she didn't see a good reason to follow them.

The sharp buzz of a call button interrupted her train of thought. There was just one patient in the clinic, so she didn't need to look to know which room it was coming from.

"Speak of the devil," Julian murmured.

"He probably just wants to ogle me some more." She walked out of the office.

When she opened the door, Tim was attempting to push himself up, his face twisted in concentration.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, walking quickly to his side.

"Trying to move," he grunted, managing to raise himself approximately two inches before collapsing back. "And failing spectacularly. Why am I so weak?"

"It's part of the process, and it shouldn't worry you. Is there a reason you're making efforts you shouldn't?"

"I'm hungry," he admitted. "Starving, actually. Like, 'would eat hospital food and be grateful' level hungry."

"That is strange." She made a note on his chart. "Transitioning Dormants usually get hungry when they are past the initial stage and need to replenish their stores of energy. There is no chance you are there yet."

He grimaced. "Can I have something to eat, please? I'm really hungry, like hunger pangs." He moved his hands to his stomach, which was a good sign since he'd regained some strength in his arms, and his erection was gone, which was good news for him.

"I have to ask the doctor, and if he says that you can eat, the most I can give you is broth. Maybe some Jell-o if you're very good."

"You're offering me flavored water as my first immortal meal?"

"First of all, you are not an immortal yet, and second, would you prefer unflavored water? Because I can do that. Sometimes the body interprets thirst as hunger."

"Broth it is, then." He studied her face. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask. I might not answer."

"Fair enough." He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. "Were you born immortal?"

"None of us are born immortal. We are born human, or rather Dormant. Girls transition early, at about two years old, and boys at puberty. Did no one explain things to you before throwing you into the ring with Magnus?"

He pursed his lips. "Andrew tried to cram everything in during the ride to my apartment to collect my things and then to the village, but I was too shell-shocked to absorb what he was saying. He might have explained that detail, or he might not have."

She nodded. "You can ask me anything you want to know. Since you are the only patient in the clinic, it's not like I have other things to do."

His eyes widened, not in surprise but in delight. "I'm your only patient?"

"That's what I said."

"So, you can devote all of your attention to me?"

"I can, doesn't mean that I will. If you don't need anything, I might busy myself with other things."

"I have lots of questions," he said. "Can you sit down with me for a little bit?"

"I thought you were hungry."

"Food can wait."

She pulled a chair closer to his bed and sat. "Ask away."

"How old are you? Or is it inappropriate to ask?"

"Older than you, by a lot, and age is not something that we talk about. It's irrelevant when you live forever."

"Older, like in you could be my mother? Or grandmother?"

He was a stubborn guy. "Like your great-great-grandmother. Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't. You could be as old as Methuselah, and it wouldn't matter to me. I would still think that you are the hottest chick on Earth."

"Methuselah lived to be almost a thousand, and I'm not quite that old. I don't appreciate being called a chick, though."

"My bad. Can you give me a list of approved words? Is babe okay?"

She looked at him down her nose. "If we were a couple, babe would have been okay. But we are not, so you can call me Hildegard, nurse, woman, or female depending on the context. If we become friends, you will be allowed to call me Hildie."

"Can I call you Hildie now? You can pretend that we are friends. You know, fake it until you make it kind of thing."

She was contemplating his request when his stomach growled loudly.

"Fine," Hildegard said, standing. "You can call me Hildie, but I reserve the right to rescind my acquiescence. Let me get you that gourmet broth. Chicken or beef?"

"Surprise me. I like to live dangerously."

"Indeed." She walked out the door and stopped by the doctor's office. "He's hungry. Can he have broth and Jell-o?"

Julian looked surprised. "He couldn't have transitioned already."

"I know, but he's hungry."

"You can give him clear liquids, and if he doesn't throw them up or lose consciousness again, you can give him solids."

She was about to turn away but paused. "Do you want to administer the test to see if he's transitioned?"

Julian shook his head. "It can't happen so fast. In my opinion, this is a temporary pause, and he will go under again. Perhaps I missed some underlying health problem, and his body halted the process because it was risky for him."

Surprisingly, Hildegard's worried response was visceral. She didn't want anything happening to Tim. "Perhaps you should check on him after all. Maybe I missed something."

"I will. But first, let's see how he reacts to the food."

In the kitchen, she pulled out a cup of beef broth from the freezer, put it in the microwave to defrost, and thought about her strange reaction to Julian's hypothesis.

It had been easy to joke and tease when she thought that Tim was out of danger, but if Julian was correct and this was just a temporary reprieve, then things could still go wrong.

Everyone had their armor, and Tim's just happened to be made of snark. But underneath, he was just as scared as anyone else in his position would be.

You always did have a soft spot for the broken ones .

Hildegard chuckled to herself. "Tim is not broken. Just dented. And dents can be hammered out."

"With him, it might require a sledgehammer," Julian said from behind her.

She hadn't noticed him walking into the clinic's kitchen. "Can I get you anything, doc?"

"I'm just getting myself coffee." He refilled his cup from the carafe. "The microwave is done, by the way. I heard it beeping from my office."

"Oh, I know. I was waiting for the broth to cool down." That was a total lie, but she didn't want Julian to think she had been preoccupied with talking to herself.

She pulled out the hot container, placed it on a tray, and added a cup of Jell-o.

Stopping before Tim's door, she knocked before entering this time, giving him the courtesy of warning before opening it. "Miss me already?" she asked.

"Desperately. I've been composing sonnets in your absence."

Tim had adjusted his position a little.

"Do you even know any?"

"Shakespeare's overrated." He watched the tray she put on the serving table.

"A feast worthy of a king. I may waste away to nothing with such fare.

A shadow of my former self." He didn't make a move to take one of the two spoons on his tray, and she wondered if she should offer to feed him or let him try to do so by himself first.

"You know what's weird?" he asked.

"What?"

"It feels like my bones are trying to crawl out of my skin, but also like my skin is trying to crawl into my bones. Does that make sense?"

"Perfect. Your body is literally rebuilding itself from the inside out." She smoothed his hair back without thinking, then caught herself. Professional boundaries. Right. "Try the broth. Nutrients for the reconstruction."

He stared at her. "You just petted me."

"I did not pet you. I was checking for fever."

"With your hand? Not even my mother did that. Medical professionals use a thermometer."

"Sometimes a hand is more handy."

"You wanted to touch my luxurious hair. Admit it."

"Your hair looks like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket."

"And yet you couldn't resist."

She shook her head. "You're impossible."

"I've been told that before. Usually right before someone throws something at me or storms out of a room."

"Good thing I'm paid to be here and not allowed to throw things at my patients."

"Ouch. Way to wound a man's ego."

"Your ego could use some wounding. It's taking up all the space in here."

"Touché."

"Are you going to eat?" She pointed at the broth with her chin. "Or do you need me to feed you?"

The sparkle in his eyes betrayed his response before his mouth started moving. "I need you. To feed me."

"Say please."

"Please, Hildie. I need you to spoon me. I mean, I need you to spoon-feed me."

She laughed. "Of course, you do."