Read Online Prophecy Girl (Angel Academy) by Cecily White - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cecily White
Ads: Link
Diarrhea?”
“No, no, and yuck,” I said. “Dr. G, can I please be excused?”
“Not yet. How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Eleven.”
“Amelie.”
I scowled, ignoring the way my body still tingled where Jack had touched me. “Sir, I’m fine. Just let me go to class. Please?”
Gunderman unhooked the blood pressure cuff from my arm and looked at me like I’d asked to borrow his credit card. “Young lady, the fact that you want to go to class gives me definite pause for concern. I will, however, grant you a pass—”
“Thank you.” I started to rise, but he pushed me back down.
“On one condition. You go straight back to the assembly hall and wait for dismissal. If you feel dizzy or need a healing charm for any reason, you are to see Ms. Hansen immediately. Understood?”
“Consider it done.”
“And I’d feel better if you’d agree to talk to Dr. Evans. You channeled a lot of energy today, Amelie. Most girls your age would be in the hospital after that kind of power draw.”
“And yet,” I said, gesturing to myself, “I am fine. No need for a healer or a shrink.”
“So you say.” He frowned. “Stay here. I’ll get your paperwork.”
I sat for a minute while Gunderman retrieved my pass slip. As soon as I had it in hand, I bolted. No sense giving him a chance to change his mind. Besides, being in the sick ward was starting to give me the willies.
On the way out, I noticed most of the patients had gone quiet, either too drugged or traumatized to moan. There was one, though, who left me with a softball-sized knot in my belly. A cute Watcher—curly hair, about twenty-five—tucked in an alcove near the door. His curtain wasn’t fully drawn, and, through the opening, I could see him curled in a fetal position on the bed.
Normally, I’m pretty good with people in pain. Comes with the healer territory, I guess. But this guy’s pain was so palpable, so intense, it radiated through the curtain. It filled up the room in such a bleak, dark way I had no choice but to stop.
“These things happen.” A resigned murmur jolted me out of my trance and I turned. Henry, the Archivist, stood behind me, a grim look in his eye. “More than they should, these days. We’re lucky, you and I.”
“We sure are,” I agreed. Then I asked, “How are we lucky, exactly?”
With a sad smile, he nodded to the man behind the curtain. “His bondmate was killed. That’s the fourth Channeler they’ve taken this month.”
“They?” Did he mean Graymasons?
Henry lowered his head. “You witnessed this morning how dependent we are on our Channelers for Crossworld riftwork. Well, the demons have noticed it, too. And with our forces spread so thin—”
“Wait a sec, they’re targeting us? I didn’t think demons were smart enough to mount an offense like that. Don’t they usually go after their own? Vamps and weres?”
“They used to.” He shrugged. “Not as much since the Peace Tenets passed. Now there are too many souls, not enough Guardians.”
I was about to ask what he meant when the squeal of a curtain pulling shut cut me off.
“Miss Bennett,” Gunderman warned, “I thought I told you to return to assembly.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry.” I whirled back to where Henry was but he’d already wandered off to browse the latest International Classification of Demon Diseases . Yeesh, no wonder the man knew everything.
I glanced at the door, fully prepared to follow Gunderman’s order. I didn’t want to think about the unnatural hunch of that Watcher’s body, the wracking sobs of silent pain. But I couldn’t block it out.
Gunderman had already drifted into another patient’s alcove. As soundlessly as possible, I slid behind the curtain and laid one hand across the wounded Watcher’s sweaty forehead. I didn’t know him, didn’t know anything about him. But if I were hurting like that, I’d want someone to help me.
“ Salve pacem ,” I whispered. “ Salve .”
A soft burn passed
“No, no, and yuck,” I said. “Dr. G, can I please be excused?”
“Not yet. How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Eleven.”
“Amelie.”
I scowled, ignoring the way my body still tingled where Jack had touched me. “Sir, I’m fine. Just let me go to class. Please?”
Gunderman unhooked the blood pressure cuff from my arm and looked at me like I’d asked to borrow his credit card. “Young lady, the fact that you want to go to class gives me definite pause for concern. I will, however, grant you a pass—”
“Thank you.” I started to rise, but he pushed me back down.
“On one condition. You go straight back to the assembly hall and wait for dismissal. If you feel dizzy or need a healing charm for any reason, you are to see Ms. Hansen immediately. Understood?”
“Consider it done.”
“And I’d feel better if you’d agree to talk to Dr. Evans. You channeled a lot of energy today, Amelie. Most girls your age would be in the hospital after that kind of power draw.”
“And yet,” I said, gesturing to myself, “I am fine. No need for a healer or a shrink.”
“So you say.” He frowned. “Stay here. I’ll get your paperwork.”
I sat for a minute while Gunderman retrieved my pass slip. As soon as I had it in hand, I bolted. No sense giving him a chance to change his mind. Besides, being in the sick ward was starting to give me the willies.
On the way out, I noticed most of the patients had gone quiet, either too drugged or traumatized to moan. There was one, though, who left me with a softball-sized knot in my belly. A cute Watcher—curly hair, about twenty-five—tucked in an alcove near the door. His curtain wasn’t fully drawn, and, through the opening, I could see him curled in a fetal position on the bed.
Normally, I’m pretty good with people in pain. Comes with the healer territory, I guess. But this guy’s pain was so palpable, so intense, it radiated through the curtain. It filled up the room in such a bleak, dark way I had no choice but to stop.
“These things happen.” A resigned murmur jolted me out of my trance and I turned. Henry, the Archivist, stood behind me, a grim look in his eye. “More than they should, these days. We’re lucky, you and I.”
“We sure are,” I agreed. Then I asked, “How are we lucky, exactly?”
With a sad smile, he nodded to the man behind the curtain. “His bondmate was killed. That’s the fourth Channeler they’ve taken this month.”
“They?” Did he mean Graymasons?
Henry lowered his head. “You witnessed this morning how dependent we are on our Channelers for Crossworld riftwork. Well, the demons have noticed it, too. And with our forces spread so thin—”
“Wait a sec, they’re targeting us? I didn’t think demons were smart enough to mount an offense like that. Don’t they usually go after their own? Vamps and weres?”
“They used to.” He shrugged. “Not as much since the Peace Tenets passed. Now there are too many souls, not enough Guardians.”
I was about to ask what he meant when the squeal of a curtain pulling shut cut me off.
“Miss Bennett,” Gunderman warned, “I thought I told you to return to assembly.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry.” I whirled back to where Henry was but he’d already wandered off to browse the latest International Classification of Demon Diseases . Yeesh, no wonder the man knew everything.
I glanced at the door, fully prepared to follow Gunderman’s order. I didn’t want to think about the unnatural hunch of that Watcher’s body, the wracking sobs of silent pain. But I couldn’t block it out.
Gunderman had already drifted into another patient’s alcove. As soundlessly as possible, I slid behind the curtain and laid one hand across the wounded Watcher’s sweaty forehead. I didn’t know him, didn’t know anything about him. But if I were hurting like that, I’d want someone to help me.
“ Salve pacem ,” I whispered. “ Salve .”
A soft burn passed
Similar Books
