were—another few months and an episode like that would’ve killed them all. Might’ve come close today if not for his strength.
“Can I push her in the wheelchair?” he asked. “She needs sunshine. Fresh air. And she wasn’t violent until you gave her the drugs.”
The young female doctor was sympathetic but firm. “She’s hurt a lot of people. Her anger comes out of nowhere, so this is best for her as well.”
No, it wasn’t, but the humans wouldn’t know that. “Okay, then. I’ll just sit with her.”
“I’m sorry for what you saw, but she’s sick. She’s in the best place she can be.”
That was the biggest crock of shit and for a moment, Jinx thought about shifting and watching the woman shit her pants. Instead, he walked back inside and heard the door lock behind him.
Gillian was pointing weakly to the window.
“We can’t escape through it,” he told her.
But she shook her head.
“She’s looking for the notepad,” the ghost said clearly, and Jinx couldn’t ignore it. He’d tried to since he walked in, and the woman had been pleasant enough, sitting on the windowsill in the hospital johnny, her hair tied in a neat bun. She looked to be about forty, was clearer than a lot of the ghosts he’d seen, which meant she’d been around long enough to cement her place in this world.
And that was not a good thing.
“I’m Lynn, by the way,” she told him.
He walked to where Lynn had pointed and found that the windowsill was hollowed out underneath. He stuck his hand inside and pulled out a small pad of paper with an orb that could only be the moon drawn over and over, until thousands of orbs blended together to show how long she’d been trapped here, waiting.
His heart ached for her. “I won’t leave you here another second.”
Gillian blinked, but didn’t truly believe him, made evident by her whispering, “I won’t go anywhere with you.”
“You will. And you’ll be better for it.”
She rolled her head wearily to the side.
He’d rather remain here strapped to the bed if it meant her freedom. And he did remain there for hours, checking in with Jez several times and getting no response, which was typical.
When visiting hours ended, they’d have the cover of an early winter’s night and hopefully Jez would take his place in the car or else Jinx was leaving him here.
He glanced around the rest of the room. There was a pile of well-worn paperback books in the corner, stacked up, obviously not thought of as dangerous.
It was clear they were loved. They were stacked carefully, all their spines showing. She’d been as careful as possible with them, and he didn’t know if bringing them would make things worse or better.
Instead, he took a picture of the stack.
There was nothing else here of value. He shoved the moon drawings into his back pocket and looked up at Lynn. “What do you want?”
“Nothing.”
“Have you seen anything out of the ordinary here?”
“Like me?”
“Like a monster.” He bit back the word freak because somehow monster was less scary.
“Oh, that. There was one here, but it’s gone. It left last night after those people came looking for it,” Lynn whispered conspiratorially, confirming his intuition. “It was one of the meanest-looking things I’d ever seen.”
Great. For all he knew, it had followed Marley home. And that left him with only one job here today. “Just one?”
“All I saw.”
“What exactly did it look like?”
“Smelled like sulfur. It was a black blur and it ran by too fast for me to see. It growled.”
He would have to get Gillian the hell out of here with a distraction. He needed Kill. The man could manipulate minds, so it was either that or a violent breakout.
Brother Wolf would prefer the latter for sure. But Rifter would have his head. And still, they were running out of time for any option to remain viable.
“There’s a side door right here,” Lynn murmured. “If your friend opens it from the outside,