bedroom again, and I was able to focus enough through the pain to see that there were shadows under his eyes. The shadows weren't the black that I was sure were under mine, just a darker red than the skin on his cheeks. His eyes were even bloodshot from tiredness.
"Now you," he said, putting me gently down on the mattress again, "stay here." He smiled at me to soften the command and headed out of the room again.
Probably going to get more scotch, I thought. He's going to get me drunk on the stuff with the rate I've been pulling my stitches. The thought barely worried me, which shocked me slightly.
"You'll have to be more careful," Lucifer said, putting the glass of scotch on the bedside table and laying out the dressings and such on the bed. "If you keep pulling the stitches out, there's going to be no muscles left for me to sew together." He smiled at me, and I noticed that his canines were just the slightest bit sharper and longer than mine. They were like an ape's, but I could tell there was no threat behind the grin.
"I'm sorry I woke you up," I apologized, letting him help me sit up so he could take the bandages from my stomach again. "I only wanted to see if the books on the bottom shelf were first editions."
"They are," he said with a smile, helping me lie back into the pillow without stretching the stitches more. "They're very rare, signed first editions, and I haven't touched them since I bought them. I have reading copies instead, which you should have seen on the shelves above them." He smiled slightly at me, lifting an eyebrow, and gently peeled the cotton away from my wound.
I hissed in pain when the cotton pulled at the small amount of scabbing around the wound, and he glanced at me, but the cotton was off quickly, as was the stuff he'd packed into the wound. He peered into my stomach, checking out his stitching and trying not to cause me any more pain.
"How can you see in here?" I asked through clenched teeth as he dipped a bit of the dressing in the scotch, handing the glass to me. "I can barely see you."
He frowned, sitting up. The curtain was down, so there was only the slightest bit of light from around the edges. I could barely see him as he grinned.
"I can see in the dark," he explained, putting the needle down. "But if it makes you uncomfortable, I'll try to be more human. When I can work out what being human means, of course." He smiled at me again and stood up to open the blind. "An ambitious concept, like being normal, after all."
The sudden influx of light was too bright and I squinted. He laughed, seemingly suffering no problem in the suddenly-increased light, and sat back down beside me, picking up the dressing soaked in scotch.
"What else can you do?" I asked, holding the glass as he swabbed the wound. The liquid in the glass shook, and I realized I was trembling. "I mean, you can fly, you can see in the dark, you can cook and you obviously have a good medical knowledge. Surely the talents end there."
Lucifer laughed lightly. "Take a drink when the pain gets unbearable." He stitched my muscles back together.
"Answer the question," I said with a smile, taking a large mouthful of scotch as I felt the pinch of the supersharp needle. I barely contained a squeak of pain.
Lucifer laughed again, shaking his head. The sun caught his shoulder-length golden hair when he did, catching my attention. I mentally shook myself to concentrate on blocking the pain.
"Well, I don't really have any other 'talents.' I can't really even fight, I just shoot."
"You said last night you were helping my veins refill or something. How?"
"Ah, you do remember that." He continued to smile, even as he tied off the newest stitches, checking his handiwork, poking and prodding my tender stomach. "I do have some
"Now you," he said, putting me gently down on the mattress again, "stay here." He smiled at me to soften the command and headed out of the room again.
Probably going to get more scotch, I thought. He's going to get me drunk on the stuff with the rate I've been pulling my stitches. The thought barely worried me, which shocked me slightly.
"You'll have to be more careful," Lucifer said, putting the glass of scotch on the bedside table and laying out the dressings and such on the bed. "If you keep pulling the stitches out, there's going to be no muscles left for me to sew together." He smiled at me, and I noticed that his canines were just the slightest bit sharper and longer than mine. They were like an ape's, but I could tell there was no threat behind the grin.
"I'm sorry I woke you up," I apologized, letting him help me sit up so he could take the bandages from my stomach again. "I only wanted to see if the books on the bottom shelf were first editions."
"They are," he said with a smile, helping me lie back into the pillow without stretching the stitches more. "They're very rare, signed first editions, and I haven't touched them since I bought them. I have reading copies instead, which you should have seen on the shelves above them." He smiled slightly at me, lifting an eyebrow, and gently peeled the cotton away from my wound.
I hissed in pain when the cotton pulled at the small amount of scabbing around the wound, and he glanced at me, but the cotton was off quickly, as was the stuff he'd packed into the wound. He peered into my stomach, checking out his stitching and trying not to cause me any more pain.
"How can you see in here?" I asked through clenched teeth as he dipped a bit of the dressing in the scotch, handing the glass to me. "I can barely see you."
He frowned, sitting up. The curtain was down, so there was only the slightest bit of light from around the edges. I could barely see him as he grinned.
"I can see in the dark," he explained, putting the needle down. "But if it makes you uncomfortable, I'll try to be more human. When I can work out what being human means, of course." He smiled at me again and stood up to open the blind. "An ambitious concept, like being normal, after all."
The sudden influx of light was too bright and I squinted. He laughed, seemingly suffering no problem in the suddenly-increased light, and sat back down beside me, picking up the dressing soaked in scotch.
"What else can you do?" I asked, holding the glass as he swabbed the wound. The liquid in the glass shook, and I realized I was trembling. "I mean, you can fly, you can see in the dark, you can cook and you obviously have a good medical knowledge. Surely the talents end there."
Lucifer laughed lightly. "Take a drink when the pain gets unbearable." He stitched my muscles back together.
"Answer the question," I said with a smile, taking a large mouthful of scotch as I felt the pinch of the supersharp needle. I barely contained a squeak of pain.
Lucifer laughed again, shaking his head. The sun caught his shoulder-length golden hair when he did, catching my attention. I mentally shook myself to concentrate on blocking the pain.
"Well, I don't really have any other 'talents.' I can't really even fight, I just shoot."
"You said last night you were helping my veins refill or something. How?"
"Ah, you do remember that." He continued to smile, even as he tied off the newest stitches, checking his handiwork, poking and prodding my tender stomach. "I do have some
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