The Shadow of Mist by Yasmine Galenorn Page B

didn’t preclude Terrance using some supernatural way to climb up the outside wall. Most likely, though, Mitch was just afraid that Terry would hurt me. If he’d picked up on the fact that I was the Finfolk’s target, and he knew he couldn’t do anything about it, he would be terrified and feeling helpless. And a helpless man made for an angry man.
    I hurried over to Mitch’s side. His arm and both legs were in casts—the kind where they could be removed to change the dressings and examine the injuries. Mitch blinked, looking up at me through glazed eyes. He was drugged, all right. I took his hand and leaned over to kiss his forehead.
    â€œIt’s okay,” I whispered. “Everything’s going to be all right. The D’Artigo sisters are helping us. Don’t worry, okay?” I kept my voice low, but forgot the doctor was from Otherworld.
    â€œIs something wrong, Ms. Morgan? You having problems with someone?” Dr. Elanya set down the clipboard and turned to me.
    â€œWhy do you ask?”
    â€œBecause someone injured him. Mitch didn’t beat himself up. And if you know who did it, then you’d better speak to Detective Johnson so they can catch the lowlife before he hurts someone else.”
    Even though he was wearing Earthside clothing and had the letters D and R planted before his name, he was still an elf. And elves always seemed bent on playing by the rules. I smiled weakly and eased my way into a chair.
    â€œWe think it may be an old boyfriend of mine, out for a little revenge. I’ve already talked to the authorities.” I shrugged.
    Dr. Elanya looked at me and I knew he didn’t believe me, but there was no graceful way to call me a liar and get away with it.
    â€œAll right, then,” he said after a moment. “I’ll have the nurse bring you a blanket. You can use the bed next to him. I doubt we’ll have enough emergencies to need it. Besides, in your condition, you should get as much rest as you can.” And with that, he snapped the chart shut and left the room.
    I followed him to make sure he was gone and then returned to Mitch’s side. “Honey, I have so much to tell you but I’m afraid you won’t remember it if I tell you right now. Just trust me. Please . . . You trust me, don’t you?” I strained, holding his uninjured hand, waiting for an answer.
    Mitch’s brilliant baby blues stared up at me for a moment, questions warring in his gaze, but he finally nodded and squeezed my hand. He opened his mouth and struggled until a faint “I trust you” came out, followed by, “I love you.”
    I wanted so badly to tell him what was going on, but in his condition, he needed to rest. So I kissed his lips and adjusted his covers and watched as he slid back into a drug-filledsleep.
    As I lowered myself into the chair and picked up the remote control, wondering what to do with myself all day, the door opened and a tall, blond nurse bustled into the room, pushing a cart with a beautiful potted plant on it.
    â€œHey.” I started to stand but Delilah motioned me back into the chair. She shook her head and pressed a finger to her lips.
    â€œMs. Morgan, I’m just delivering this plant that one of Mitch’s friends sent. What a beautiful philodendron.” She glanced around, then motioned to the dresser that was opposite Mitch’s bed, beneath the TV mounted on the wall. “Why don’t we put it there? I think it would be just perfect.”
    As I gathered my purse from off the dresser, I noticed a tiny camera nestled in the ceramic pot. It was aimed directly toward the door and from what I could tell, the view would include Mitch as well. I gazed at it for a moment, then stood back.
    â€œYou’re right; that’s the perfect spot.” I gave Delilah a quick nod to show her I’d seen it, and stepped back. “Thank you. I know Mitch will appreciate it when he wakes