Shadow's Turning- Part 18

Chapter 8

They left me there to stew.

Or at least, that’s what it felt like.

Holm had made some more notations on his clipboard and then started typing away on the computer.  Detective Patel had left but Alvarez was left behind.

Ostensibly to keep an eye on me and protect the doctor.

The irony was not lost on me.

I watched him until he left, wondering at his utter lack of apparent empathy.  Sociopathy was probably one of the requirements for the job.

I almost missed the distraction of the clacking keys and the sight of him standing in front of the computer when he left.  Even Alvarez’s stare was at least something else to focus on.

Alone again, all I had was the throbbing pain in my arm.

Time seemed to stretch, but it was probably less than an hour before the door opened again and a different uniformed officer appeared with a tray of food.

He couldn’t have been more than nineteen.  His pale skin flushed as he averted his eyes and slid the tray through a slot at the bottom of the door.

He almost ran back out of the room.

I stared at the food warily, thinking about everything they could have done to it.

With a sigh, I realized it didn’t matter if they had tampered with it.  I was hungry and this was my only option.

I picked up the sandwich and took a small bite.  I wasn’t really a fan of tuna, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

It didn’t taste off.  Well, not any more off than fish from a can tasted.

Shrugging mentally, I at the rest quickly and downed the tall glass of water they’d given along with it.

I took up my post on the cot again and stared up at the ceiling.

The drowsy feeling took hold of me not more than five minutes later.

I lay down and closed my eyes, more relieved than irritated that they’d added some kind of sedative to the food.

“Time to wake up, Ms. Evans.”

My eyes shot open at the sound of that overly-cheerful voice.

Dr. Holm was standing right outside the bars, Alvarez next to him.  Patel was notably missing but I didn’t foster any hope that I wouldn’t be seeing him again.

I sat up.  Holm’s excited demeanor putting me on edge.  At least Patel didn’t really try to be nice to me.

“We’re going to be testing separation anxiety now,” he said in that much too upbeat voice, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

Separation anxiety?  What was he going to do, call my mother?

For the first time, I was glad she wasn’t around anymore.

I rubbed at my chest, the slight aching twinge there making me frown.

The door opened again and I looked over, expecting to see Detective Patel.

Instead, a familiar pair of red-tinged eyes met mine.

I stood up and wrapped my hands around the lightly textured surface of the bars, watching as a uniform with a buzz-cut marched him inside.

Birch’s hands were tied behind his back and he was wearing a pair of ill fitting sweats, though his boots were his own.  He didn’t look any worse for the wear, walking in upright, alert eyes taking in the room quickly before settling back on me.

I looked back at Holm to find him watching me avidly, the pen in his hand posed over the clipboard that had reappeared in his hand.

I let go of the bars and stepped back, wishing I’d had the foresight to control my reaction.

“Take him back out,” Holm said to Officer Buzz Cut.

Birch’s eyes narrowed on the doctor, but he didn’t resist as he was turned around roughly.

I felt a low grade pulling sensation, but stopped myself from rubbing at my chest again.

“How do you feel, Ms. Evans?” Holm asked eagerly, leaning toward me.

“Fine,” I answered noncommittally.  Maybe if he didn’t get what he wanted, he’d stop.

I should have known better.

Holm sighed heavily.

“Now, Ms. Evans, I would really like your cooperation.  I’m sure Detective Patel explained to you just how important it is.”

I just stared at him.

“I see,” he said, clearly disappointed.  “Well, if you don’t cooperate, we will simply have to give you a transfusion.  Enough of Birch’s blood and you won’t be able to help giving yourself away.”

His calculating eyes took in my horrified expression calmly.  “Unless…you’ve changed your mind?”

Shit.

If I ever got my hands on him, I would wipe that smirk permanently off his face.

I nodded reluctantly.

“Alright, I knew you were a reasonable person,” he continued happily.  “Now, how did it feel when Birch entered the room?”

I answered all of his questions.  If I hadn’t had the much more severe sensation from that thing we’d encountered last night, I wouldn’t have been able to recognize the feelings so quickly.

As I answered his questions, my mind was working in overdrive.

Birch had broken the connection by building a new one with himself.

When Holm directed the guard to bring Birch back inside, I stared at his face.

I had an inkling when he’d forced his blood into my mouth last night, but now I was forced to confront the thought I’d shoved down as soon as I’d had it.

I remembered feeling that something was off with the entrance to his place when I’d first gotten there.  Now I realized the issue had been that there hadn’t been any protection charms.

Not one.

His ability to fight off those things.  His quick healing, this strange pull I now felt toward him.  The red tinge to his eyes.

I stared at him as he walked back in.

He met my eyes straight on.  His face tightened as he saw whatever expression was on mine as I looked at him.

I was so beyond controlling my face.

Holm asked Birch the same series of questions he’d asked me.  Birch answered shortly, but his eyes still stayed on me.

“Do you feel a pull toward Ms. Evans?””Yes.”

“Do you feel pain upon separation?”

“Yes.”

I sat down slowly, my eyes finally breaking the connection with his.

I answered woodenly as Holm experimented with distance, asking us to rate the sensation on a numerical scale.

I wasn’t really paying attention, feeling as if I was hearing everything from a distance.

Until Holm asked Officer Buzz Cut to release Birch’s handcuffs.

My eyes darted to Birch’s face, but it was set in an unreadable expression, his gaze fixed in the distance.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Doctor,” Buzz Cut said uneasily.

“Leave the thinking to me.  We’re in the middle of a police station and Mr. Birch has been nothing but cooperative.”

“But Detective Patel-”

“Isn’t here,” Holm said impatiently.

The officer slowly took out his keys, reluctance clear in every slow movement.

Birch didn’t react as his hands were freed, just brought his arms to his front, flexing his hands to get the circulation going again.

Alvarez took a step closer, his hand going to his gun.