“As the preceptor of Wicca and Herbalism, she’ll know far more about poltergeist injuries than I do,” Krieger replied. “They’re not regular injuries and require special concoctions and herbal treatments to temper the wounds. If not treated correctly, you may…” He trailed off, visibly uncomfortable.
“You can say it, Doc.” I smiled weakly. “I might die, right?”
He sighed gravely. “Yes, you might. A poltergeist’s attacks are infused with dead-men’s poison, otherwise referred to as ‘concentrated death.’ It’s lethal if left untreated.”
“And here I was, thinking you were going to say it was something serious.” I stared up at the ceiling, trying to hide my gathering fear. I could put on a good show in front of most people, but this wasn’t something I could laugh off. This was scary… genuinely scary. And I couldn’t help thinking:
What the hell had I gotten myself into?
Three
Finch
It took Marianne an hour to finish patching me up. She threw all kinds of poultices and potions at me in the hopes of drawing out the dead-men’s poison. The stench from the goo she pounded up in a mortar and pestle was almost worse than the idea of dying from this wound—something like the bottom of a dumpster. But, apparently, it was good for me. Vile medicine for a vile injury.
She bandaged up the rest of me, too, where I’d gotten a few scrapes and cuts that I hadn’t even noticed. The poltergeist had hurt me more than I’d thought, landing a few surprise blows. An Egyptian mummy had nothing on me right now. My ankle, thigh, hip, chest, and shoulders were neatly bound and stinking to high heaven.
“You’ll have to wear these for the next twenty-four hours,” Marianne instructed in her odd, musical voice. It was hard to feel negative when she was around. She buzzed with positivity. Stick some of that in a drip for me, would you?
“No showers, no water, and no exerting yourself. Take it easy over the next couple of days,” she continued.
As preceptors went, Marianne was an emblem of the new order, young and beautiful and insanely smart, even though she’d been at the SDC pre-Katherine. She had long, red hair that was fastened in a braid to her waist, with feathers flowing down as if they were part of her locks. Not like my sister’s red, and not like my real shade of ginger, which I kept permanently under a strawberry blond façade. It was more of a true red, like it had come out of a box instead of nature. She looked like she had old Woodstock photos on her walls and listened to Bob Dylan on repeat. Right now, she wore bright yellow bell-bottom cords, a tie-dyed T-shirt, and more beads than New Orleans at Mardi Gras.
“How easy?” I replied.
Taking it easy wasn’t exactly an option for me. I had work to do, and Erebus didn’t accept delays. And this definitely wasn’t the first time I’d had to get on with a task while recovering from a plethora of injuries. As it turned out, being Erebus’s messenger boy was a bigger risk to my health than being Katherine’s sidekick.
“Basically, you need to stay on your back and rest.” Marianne smiled as she stowed her many herbs and potions back into a big leather bag. A veritable hippie Mary Poppins.
I rolled my eyes. “I was worried you’d say that.”
“She means it, Finch,” Krieger interjected. “You must rest, or you won’t get better.”
“Okay, okay, I heard you the first time.” I tried not to sulk.
“I wouldn’t have taken you for a troublesome patient.” Krieger chuckled, clearly relieved that he’d been able to help me out. For a doctor, there were some definite holes in his expertise. Then again, I supposed poltergeist attacks were fairly niche in his line of work.
“Where were you when this happened?” Jacob distracted me from my sulking. He sat to my left, in one of those ancient vinyl chairs that all hospitals seemed to have. “Which poltergeist was it? Do you know?”
I smiled. “How about you mind your beeswax and get back to tinkering with the shiny new magical detector?”
“Actually, he makes a valid point.” Krieger folded his arms across his chest. “Where were you, and what on earth were you doing?”
“Will it make a difference to my healing?” I replied.
“Well, no, but—”
“Then it’s none of your beeswax, either.” I grinned. “No offense.”
Krieger frowned. “I really think you should tell us.”
“And I really think Marianne told me not to exert myself. Talking is making me so very weak.” I closed my eyes as if I was going to sleep, only for them to fly open as the door to the infirmary burst inward and Harley came crashing through. Wade ran alongside her.
“Oh yeah, I might have called them,” Jacob whispered.
“Snitch,” I hissed back.
He gave me an oh-so-innocent shrug. “I thought she should know. She’s your sister.”
“Yeah, I don’t need reminding.” I sighed.
Harley hurried straight for me and threw her arms around me. I rolled my eyes.
“Ouch! Wounded invalid over here.” It did hurt, but I was secretly glad to hug her again after my brush with death.
She drew back. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“It’s nothing, I’m fine. You didn’t have to come all the way down here to worry over me,” I replied. “It was just a work accident. Stuff happens, but it’s all good now.”
“Stuff happens?” Wade asked. Harley arched a disapproving eyebrow at me. They were tag-teaming this in annoying couple fashion.
Krieger glanced between the three of us. “On that note, there’s something I need to talk to you about. Marianne, Jacob, if you could join me in my office?” He led the way, with the other two following. Jacob was a little more reluctant, but Krieger was his adoptive dad now, so he had to do as he was told.
At least the good doctor still knew how to take a hint. It was considerate of him to leave me alone with my sister and Wonderboy Wade so she could whip my ass in relative privacy.
“How’s everything in paradise?” I dove in first, before the questions could start again.
Harley shook her head. “Stop deflecting, Finch.”
“Who’s deflecting?” I smiled sweetly.
Paradise entailed Wade and Harley being at the top of their game and still nauseatingly in love. They’d moved into a shared, bigger office in the coven to run their taskforce. They’d also moved into a shared, bigger room in the living quarters, but the less said about that, the better. I was still her brother. I’d already had a few choice, brotherly words with Wade about their living arrangements, but he’d just laughed.
As part of their ongoing duties within the SDC, Harley and Wade had been appointed as Special Coven Agents. They had sparkly new uniforms and everything. Which meant, while I was out hunting down all of Erebus’s whims and fancies, they were out hunting down rogue Cult of Eris members still at large, among other things. Frankly, I would’ve given anything to have their job.
As for the rest of the Muppet Babies, they had the easy, stress-free task of bringing new, undiscovered magicals into the coven.