Page 68 of Promise of Destruction

“Related?” He laughs. It’s a nice sound that sets me further at ease. “No. I was his mother’s doctor.”

Was.

The past tense makes me sad for Declan. “Is she…”

“Gone.” Dr. Kent nods. “For six years now, God rest her soul. Mary wanted to keep her diagnosis from him so it wouldn’t affect his senior year. She was so proud—of him as well as a proud woman. When she finally told him, he came home to her, but it was too late.” His voice drops an octave and he glances over his shoulder to be sure Declan hasn’t materialized behind him. “He didn’t want to believe it. He took her to all kinds of specialists, even I think to Mexico. But they all agreed it was too late.” Dr. Kent straightens. “Covington was a lot smaller when I grew up here. Mary was something of a friend to me.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell him truthfully.

I want to ask more—what killed her, if Declan went back to school, what happened to his father—but I let all that slip away when he straightens, clearly ready to change topics.

“What about you, Miss Palmer? Any health concerns?”

His professionalism is clear, but I can’t help wonder if there’s an ulterior motive hidden somewhere in his question.

“Soren,” I correct him gently.

“Soren,” He smiles. “I like that. Scandinavian?”

I shrug. “My mother was a woman of many mysteries. She never told me or my grandmother why she chose my name, and I don’t know much about my ancestry. She didn’t look much like me, but I never thought to ask.”

“Well,” he sighs after a minute, filling in the gaps to reach the same conclusion I had about Declan’s mother. “There are lots of tools nowadays if you ever take an interest in checking with an online website. They may also help fill in a picture about your health.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. He certainly circled back to the matter at hand.

“No health concerns.” I tell him without blinking.

“Hmm.” He doesn’t seem to like that answer. “No?”

“Just the occasional hangover when I drink too much.” I gesture to the IV, which has clearly begun working magic on me. Now I just need that coffee.

“Of course.” He laughs. “What about lethargy? Depression?”

“Small town doctors really do it all, huh?” I remark drily.

That gets a chuckle from him. “Not all of it, but I do enough. I can’t help but notice you seem a bit… peaked.”

Peaked?

The man doesn’t even know me. Sure, I’m probably a bit more ghostly than usual right now courtesy of the hangover, but this is my natural pallor. I’m about to say as much before he raises a hand.

“I’m simply suggesting you have all aspects of your health checked. If you don’t think you’re depressed, you may want to check with your OB. They’d know better than me, but anemia isn’t something to trifle with.”

“I just had a full workup.” I assure him, shutting him down before he can make that line of thought go anywhere. “But I’ll be sure to ask about anemia if anything concerning shows in my results.”

That gets an approving smile from him. His concern seems to be genuine and he’s a freaking wizard.

I feel ten times better by the time he withdraws the tube from my arm and covers it with a pink princess band aid. He catches the flicker of amusement in my eyes when I glance up at him and shrugs.

“May as well make it fun, right?”

It’s not a sentiment I care to argue so I say nothing, pressing my lips together, nervous at the thought of what is going on in my kitchen.

“Thanks.” I smile awkwardly as he gathers his supplies.

“Have a nice trip, Soren.”

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