Chapter 25

*Here's the update.  If you notice anything weird, as always let me know.  I'll be honest; I have about a billion versions of this chapter floating around on my computer.  It's quite possible that I accidentally posted the wrong one.  So if something doesn't make sense or seems out of place lemme know so I can fix it!  (And I'm tired, so  something probably *is* off, but I really wanted to get this posted) *

Also!  If you remember, last week I put out a message asking for anyone with the skills to make me a cover for this story.  So far some great people have given me some really lovely choices, so i've decided that for a while at least i'll switch up my cover every week or so.

The first lovely selection is by the awesome AuRevoirSimone!

If you have any photoshop skills, then make me a cover and I just may use it!  I'd love to see what you come up with. :)

-nikki

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The silence lasted until they reached the hospital—not that Miriam really minded.

For once, it was just nice not have to worry about nosy glances.

Or being ignored.

Or trying to pretend that she was normal.

As strange as it was, she didn’t have to worry at all, as she settled back into the cushy leather seat with her head resting against the ice-cold window—even though she sat next to someone who definitely was not normal.

For at least a little while, as the car turned into the parking garage, she could just…think.

Until the car came to a stop.

They didn’t speak.

Not even as they got out into the frosty air and headed into the hospital.

Miriam figured that side by side, the two of them might have looked ridiculous; a midget brown-haired teenager struggling to keep up with a tall red-eyed stranger.

Not to mention her cocktail dress.

They certainly got their share of odd looks as they headed to the elevators and up to the fifth floor.  But, she took her cues from Eliot and tried hard not to let it show.

Anyway, there was hardly anyone in the halls at all, once they entered the coma wing.

It was weird being on this floor. Her father was nearby, she knew, tending to his patients—but she felt no desire at all to seek him out.

Was that strange?

She couldn’t keep from glancing over her shoulder at the faces of the nurses as she followed Eliot down the corridor.

They probably saw her father these days more than she did.

Everywhere she looked she could hear the beeping of machinery.  The lifeless, comatose bodies of the patients were visible through every doorway, lying beneath the covers.

The hallway was so quite you could hear a pin drop.

It was like being in a graveyard—only here, the bodies were neatly tucked into beds instead of coffins.

It was eerie.

Miriam shivered as she followed Eliot to the end of the hall.

Funnily enough, as they turned into Lizzie’s room the only person there was a very awake, very alive girl leaning against the bed.

Her cropped black hair was a frizzy mess around her shoulders, but she looked utterly cool and content as she eyed the back of her pale hand.

“It’s about damn time you showed up,” she muttered, raising her cool gray eyes as they entered the room.

Which made Miriam realize two very glaring details;

One, this girl had to be Lizzie, even though she wore a pair of plain gray sweats instead of a hospital gown.

She was the only one in the room; behind her, the bed was empty with the sheets neatly made.

Two, her first observation had been wrong, because this girl really couldn’t actually see anything at all.

She was blind.

“Do you know how bored I’ve been?  Locked in this horrible place!”  The girl pouted, crossing her wiry arms over her chest. “You better have a good reason, my darling Eliot, for—”

She froze, coking her head to the side.

“Who’s this?”  She demanded in that wispy voice.

Eliot scowled as he barged into the room and took the seat in the far corner.

“Who do you think?”

The girl’s eyes narrowed slightly, but a split second later they widened into eerie gray pools.

That mouth split into a soft smile, and the next moment, she was across the room with her slender arms thrown around Miriam’s waist.

“Oh, Miriam!”

Miriam blinked, but before she could react Lizzie stood back, clasping her small fingers in front of her.

“I’ve been dying to meet you in person,” Lizzie gushed.  Her voice was soft, with a slight musical edge that somehow sounded familiar….

“Eliot has told me all about you,” she added on a delicate laugh.  “Thank you for keeping me company.”

“Y-you’re awake,” was all Miriam could blurt in reply.

Lizzie giggled.  “Why of course I am."

As if she’d only been napping instead of in a full blown coma.

Without meaning to, Miriam found her gaze straying over to Eliot’s.

Those red eyes were dark and unreadable as always—but when he caught her staring, he turned away.

“What the hell are you doing?”  He growled at his sister.

Lizzie shrugged, her gray eyes innocently wide.

“I've had a spontaneous recovery, darling,” she explained, reaching up to smooth back a piece of her wild black hair.  “The doctors called it a…miracle.”

The edges of her mouth curled up into a mischievous grin.  “Can you imagine?  Mortals these days seem think that everything is a damn miracle—”

“Watch your mouth,” Eliot snarled.

Miriam blinked. She tried to picture what Lizzie had said that could possibly make him look so angry.

He didn’t seem like a prude to sniff at cussing.  Maybe it was her odd phrasing; it wasn't everyday that someone referred to other people as mortals...

“Oh, Eliot.” Lizzie waved him off with a swat of her hand.  “Don’t be so grouchy.”

Turning her back on him, she skipped back over to Miriam—which she figured was quite a feat for a blind person.

“Have you come to sit with me again?”  She asked, tilting her head to the side.

Miriam blinked.  “I—I—”

“She came with me,” Eliot said.

Considering Lizzie’s reaction, he might as well of said ‘I dragged her here kicking and screaming.’

“What?”  The girl gasped, a pale hand flying up to guard her throat.

“You brought her?”  Suddenly, her tone wasn’t so light and mocking anymore.  There was a bitter edge as she turned in Eliot’s direction.

Those gray eyes burned like silver spotlights.  Miriam couldn’t help thinking that the girl looked…horrified.

“Why?”

Eliot didn’t answer, but his lower jaw jerked as if he’d clenched his teeth together.

Exasperated, Lizzie threw her pale hands into the air.  “I trust you’ve been on your best behavior, then?”

Eliot didn’t even spare her a glance.

Unfazed, Lizzie whirled back to Miriam with all the grace of a ballerina.

“Miriam,” she said gently, slipping Miriam’s fingers into her slender, pales ones.

She was almost as cold as Eliot—but there was faint warmth beneath her skint that kept Miriam from shivering.

“If he was a naughty boy, you can tell me,” Lizzie said seriously.  “If he…harmed you in any way, I’ll make sure that he pays a price for it.”

Somehow, Miriam had a feeling that she wasn’t talking about the average antics of a rude older brother.

Those gray eyes were wary…almost as wary as Eliot’s had been when she mentioned her little visit from the mysterious prowler, Sage.

She didn’t like that look.

It made the inside of her throat quiver.  Somehow she found herself glancing over at Eliot once again, without meaning to.

He watching her.

His expression was as empty as always, but a part of her couldn’t help thinking that there was a challenging edge to it this time.

Almost as if he was daring her.

Go on, she could picture him taunting in that mocking tone.  Tell her.  Tell her everything.

“He…he’s been fine,” she blurted, tearing her gaze back to Lizzie.  “Very nice actually.  He gave me a ride to school the other day and…h-he brought me here, when I asked him to,” she added weakly.

Conveniently leaving out the part about how he broke into her house.

Or how he basically had stalked her.

Or seemed to take amusement out of scaring her whenever he could.

As her grandmother might have said, ‘Eliot was no gentleman.’

That was for damn sure.

Lizzie looked skeptical, but she accepted the words with a slow nod anyway.

“Interesting,” she said, rubbing her chin.  “Well, this certainly complicates things, my dear Eliot,” she remarked on a sigh, twisting around to face his general direction.

She was so graceful on her feet, Miriam couldn’t help noticing.  Like a dancer.  She even clasped her hands gracefully, as she turned those unseeing eyes on her foster brother.

“What?”  Those red eyes narrowed. “Get to the point Alaz—Lizzie,” he snapped.  “I can tell you’re stalling.  What is it?”

“Nothing,” Lizzie innocently insisted, as she shifted uneasily on the balls of her bare feet.  “But, I think that we should leave.  Now.”

“Now?”  Miriam blurted before she could help it.

For the first time she realized that Lizzie—a full blown coma patient—had spontaneously woken up, was walking around, and wanted to leave.

All in the space of less than a few short days.

No way, she thought shaking her head.

It didn’t make sense.

“Are you sure you don’t want them to observe you, or something?”  She added, frowning.

Most of her father’s patients needed weeks to recover—months.

Never in her life had she seen someone just wake up from a coma and stroll out of the hospital a day later.

It just wasn’t medically possible.

Lizzie just ignored her, focusing those huge gray eyes solely on Eliot.

“Eliot, darling,” she said delicately, flexing her pale toes against the floor.  “We need to leave this place…now preferably.”

Suddenly, her voice wasn’t so light and carefree.

There was something hidden beneath her words. Something that made Eliot’s head jerk up as if tugged by a string.

Tilting her head, Miriam tried to mimic what Eliot had done that day at the Dinner; she tried to observe Lizzie a little closer than before.

The girl’s shoulders shook in her oversized sweatshirt, she noticed.  At a glance, Lizzie seemed to stand still, but her feet kept moving restlessly as if she ached to run.

And there was something in those gray eyes that Miriam recognized instantly after these odd past few days; fear.

Eliot noticed it too.  He stood, and those red eyes burned like amber.

It was a look that made her heart jump into her throat—she figured that it was a good thing that Lizzie couldn’t see.

His voice was a growl.  “What the hell did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Lizzie said defensively, crossing her arms.  “But…I think it’s best for all of us, if we leave right now.”

“Why?”

“Because…”  Lizzie drew out the word on a sigh.  “They’re here.”

Miriam didn’t know what it meant; more of their strange family, maybe?

But Eliot did.

He went still—stiller than stone.

Stiller than death.

His tone was icy.  “Are you sure?”

Lizzie nodded.  “As sure as death, darling.”

Those gray eyes were steely.

At her tone, Eliot’s face went about ten shades paler than it already was—if that was even possible.

“Shit,” was all he said.

But, the next moment, he was across the room, snatching Miriam’s arm in that icy grip before she could react.

He dragged her toward the door.  “Let’s go.”

“My bag, if you please,” Lizzie said, simply, tilting her head high like a Queen.

With an exasperated sigh Eliot lurched back over to the bed, dragging Miriam along.  She could only stumble behind him, as he snatched a small duffle from the floor and hauled her back around to the door.

“What’s going on?” She demanded, wincing at how tightly he held her.

“Shut up,” Eliot snapped.

Lizzie didn’t even look at her.

The odd siblings seemed totally focused on something else—something that made Eliot’s eyes dart suspiciously around the hallway as they headed into the corridor.

“Where?”  He muttered near Lizzie’s ear.

The girl shrugged.  “I can sense them, my dear,” she said equally as soft, “but I can’t exactly see them.”

Annoyed, Eliot pulled Miriam along as he followed Lizzie out into the crowded hall.  A few nurses looked up as they passed the nurses’ station—but no one stopped them.

“Don’t worry about them,” Lizzie explained, as Eliot tensed.  “I’ve already arranged everything.”

They headed down past the physician’s wing, and out to the main floor, following Lizzie as she padded along on bare feet.  Miriam didn't know what the hell was going on, but as they reached the elevators Eliot pulled pace with Lizzie and snagged at the girl’s shoulder with his free hand.

“Are you going to tell me what hell is going on?”

For a moment, Lizzie didn’t respond.  It wasn’t until they piled into the first elevator that opened, that the girl reached into the pocket of her sweatshirt and withdrew a folded note that she passed to Eliot.

“I found this on my bedside stand last night,” she said solemnly, as he ripped the page open.

"What is it?"  Those red eyes scanned the surface of the page.

Lizzie anxiously tugged at a strand of her hair.  "A warrant." she said breezily.

Eliot glared at the note for barely a second before he balled it up into a fist.  “Shit."

Miriam didn’t like the dark, frothing anger she could sense building in him.  It made his eyes look molten.

“You brought them here,” he snarled.

Lizzie, who only shrugged him off with a wave of her hand.

“As I told you before, Eliot darling, I didn’t do anything.  Besides, you’ve already agreed to help me, so you can just—”

The elevator doors opened with a ding, cutting off her words and Eliot led the way out into the main hall at a speed that made Miriam's head spin.

Surprisingly Lizzie seemed to have no trouble at all keeping up with him.  Somehow the slender girl ended up leading the way again.

“They won’t dare risk pulling anything in such a place,” Lizzie said with a sniff.  "Not with all the normies around."

Eliot didn’t look so convinced.  “Walk faster,” he growled and Miriam hissed as his fingers began to clasp her wrist to the point where she felt quite convinced that he was trying to rip her arm right out of the socket.

“Eliot!”  She tried to wrench her arm away, but he only yanked her along after him.

When she attempted to dig her heels into the floor to slow him down, he only pulled harder until she lost her balance all together.

He was so strong—for a moment she was afraid that he really might dislocate her arm without meaning to.   She lost her footing, and finally, he had to stop or risk dragging her behind.

“What’s…going on?” Miriam demanded between pants as she tried to catch her breath.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eliot snapped, but reluctantly his grip loosened enough for her to feel the circulation return to her fingers.

“Why?  Let me go,” Miriam said, yanking at her wrist.  Her resistance only made his grip tighten even more.  “What’s going on?  What are you—”

“They’ve seen her with us,” Lizzie said quietly from over Eliot’s shoulder.  “They probably followed you here.  We can’t leave her.  Unless you don’t mind if they try to obtain her for questioning—”

The words seemed to make up Eliot’s mind.

Grim determination flashed in those red eyes, and Miriam knew that she’d have to cut her own arm off before he’d let her go.

“Let’s go,” he said, lurching into motion again.

Mariam barely heard Lizzie reply; “You brought that car you love so much, I hope?”

“The parking garage,” Eliot grumbled.

He wanted to move faster.  Miriam could tell.  Impatiently, his icy fingers began to dig into her arm again, but this time he had enough sense to come to the conclusion that she would never be able to keep up.

With a sigh, he whirled on her before she could react.

“Don’t fight,” he warned her.

Right before he reached down he tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

What the hell…?

Miriam was too breathless to scream.

She could only watch, dazed as he carried her out into the parking garage to his car and shoved her into the back seat.

This couldn't be happening.

It had to be a dream.

But even as Eliot slammed the door shut behind her, she didn't wake up.

The next instant he was behind the wheel with Lizzie sitting beside him, fingers folded serenely on her lap, and the car was started before Miriam could even blink.

On impulse, she tried the handle of the door—but Eliot had already beaten her to the automatic lock.  Uselessly, she let her hand fall back down to her side.

Stupid, a part of her scolded.  What else do you get for trusting the guy who broke into your house?

“What’s going on?”  She tried to make her voice sound brave and strong—but it came out more breathless.

Pathetic.

“Tell me!”

Eliot didn’t answer.  Lizzie didn’t either, and as they pulled out of the parking lot at a speed that made the tires squeal, Miriam figured that she wouldn’t be getting any answers at all out of the two—at least not any time soon.