"You need food?" he asked.
"You know what I wish I had?" She yawned. "Hot chocolate."
V picked up the phone, hit three buttons, and waited.
"You're ordering me some?" she said.
"Yeah. As well as - Hey, Fritz. Here's what I need..."
After V hung up, she had to smile at him. "That's quite a spread."
"You haven't eaten since - " He stopped himself, as if he didn't want to bring up the abduction part.
"It's okay," she murmured, feeling sad for no good reason.
No, there was a good reason. She was leaving soon.
"Don't worry, you won't remember me," he said. "So you won't feel anything after you leave."
She flushed. "Ah... exactly how do you read minds?"
"It's like catching a radio frequency. It used to happen all the time whether I wanted it to or not."
"Used to?"
"Guess the antennae broke." A bitter expression bled into his face, sharpening his eyes. "I heard from a good source it's going to fix itself, though."
"Why did it stop?"
"Why is your favorite question, isn't it?"
"I'm a scientist."
"I know." The words were spoken on a purr, like she'd just told him she was wearing sexy lingerie. "I love your mind."
Jane felt a rush of pleasure, then got all tangled in herself.
As if he sensed her conflict, he buried the moment with, "I used to see the future, too."
She cleared her throat. "You did? In what way?"
"Dreamscapes, mostly. No time line, just events in random order. I specialized in deaths."
Deaths? "Deaths?"
"Yeah, I know how all my brothers die. Just not when."
"Jesus... Christ. That must be - "
"I have other tricks, too." V lifted up his gloved hand. "There's this thing."
"I've wanted to ask about that. It knocked out one of my nurses when you were in my ER. She was taking your glove off, and it was like she'd been struck by lightning."
"I wasn't conscious when it happened, right?"
"You were out cold."
"Then that's probably the only reason she survived. This little legacy from my mother is goddamned deadly." As he clenched up a fist, his voice became hard, his words clipped into place. "And she's claimed my future as well."
"How so?" When he didn't answer, some instinct had her saying, "Let me guess, an arranged marriage?"
"Marriages. As it were."
Jane winced. Even though his future meant nothing in the larger scheme of her life, for some reason the idea of him becoming someone's husband - a lot of someones' husband - made her stomach roll.
"Um... like how many wives?"
"I don't want to talk about it, okay?"
"Okay."
About ten minutes later an old man in an English butler's uniform came in rolling a tray full of food. The spread was right off the Four Season's room service menu: There were Belgium waffles with strawberries, croissants, scrambled eggs, hot chocolate, fresh fruit.
The arrival was truly a thing of beauty.
Jane's stomach let out a roar, and before she knew what she was doing, she was tucking into a heaping plate like she hadn't seen food in a week. Halfway through her second helping and her third hot chocolate, she froze with her fork to her mouth. God, what V must think of her. She was making a pig out of -
"I love it," he said.
"You do? You actually approve of me wolfing back food like a frat boy?"
He nodded, his eyes glowing. "I love seeing you eat. Makes me ecstatic. I want you to keep going until you're so full you fall asleep in your chair."
Captivated by his diamond eyes, she said, "And... then what would happen?"
"I'd carry you to this bed without waking you and watch over you with a dagger in my hand."
Okay, that caveman stuff shouldn't be so attractive. After all, she could take care of herself. But man, the idea someone would look after her was... very nice.
"Finish your food," he said, pointing at her plate. "And have more cocoa from the thermos."
Damn her, but she did what he said. Including pouring the fourth cup of hot chocolate.
As she settled back in the chair with the mug in her hands, she was blissfully replete.
For no particular reason, she said, "I know about the legacy thing. Father was a surgeon."
"Ah. He must be psyched about you, then. You are superb."
Jane dipped her chin down. "I think he would have found my career satisfactory. Especially if I end up teaching at Columbia."
"Would have?"
"He and my mother are dead." She tacked on, because she felt as if she had to, "It was a small plane crash about ten years ago. They were on the way to a medical conference."
"Shit... I'm really sorry. You miss them?"
"This is going to sound bad... but not really. They were strangers who I had to live with when I wasn't in school. But I've always missed my sister."
"God, she's gone, too?"
"Undiagnosed congenital heart defect. Went quick one night. My father always thought that I went into medicine because he inspired me, but I did it because I was mad about Hannah. Still am." She took a sip from the mug. "Anyway, Father always thought medicine was the highest and best use for my life. I can remember him looking at me when I was fifteen and telling me I was lucky I was so smart."
"He knew you could make a difference, then."
"Not his point. He said given my looks, it wasn't as if I would marry particularly well." At V's sharp inhale, she smiled. "Father was a Victorian living in the seventies and eighties. Maybe it was his English background, who the hell knows. But he thought women should get married and look after a big house."
"That was a shitty thing to say to a young girl."
"He would have called it honest. He believed in honesty. Always said Hannah was the pretty one. Of course, he thought she was flighty." God, why the hell was she talking like this? "Anyway, parents can be a problem."
"Yeah. Get that. So f**king get that."
When they both fell quiet, she had a feeling that he was doing the family-album flip-through in his head, too.
After a while, he nodded to the flat-screen TV on the wall. "You want to watch a movie?"
She twisted around in the chair and started to smile. "God, yes. I can't remember the last time I did that. What have you got?"
"I wired the cable so we have everything." In an offhand kind of way, he nodded to the pillows next to him. "Why don't you sit here? You won't really be able to see from where you are."
Shoot. She wanted to be over next to him. She wanted to be... close.
Even as her brain cramped up over the situation, she went to the bed and settled next to him, crossing her arms over her chest and her legs at the ankles. God, she was nervous the way you were when you were on a date. Butterflies. Sweaty palms.
Hello, adrenal glands.
"So what kind of stuff do you like to watch?" she asked as he palmed a remote that had enough buttons on it to launch the space shuttle.
"Today I'm into something boring."
"Really? Why?"
His diamond eyes shifted over to her, the lids so low it was hard to read his stare. "Oh, no reason. You look tired, is all."
On the Other Side, Cormia sat on her cot. Waiting. Again.
She unfolded her hands in her lap. Refolded them. Wished she had a book in her lap to distract her. As she sat in silence, she pondered briefly what it would be like to have a book of her own. Maybe she would put her name in the front so that others would know it was hers. Yes, she would like that. Cormia. Or even better, Cormia's Book.
She would lend it out if her sisters wanted to borrow it, of course. But she would know, as it found other palms to be held in and other eyes to read its print, that the binding and the pages and the stories in it were hers. And the book would know it as well.
She thought of the Chosen's library, with its forest of stacks and its lovely leathery-sweet smell and its overwhelming luxury of words. Her time there truly was her haven and her joyous reclusion. There were so many stories to know, so many places that her eyes could never hope to behold, and she loved learning. Looked forward to it. Hungered for it.
Usually.
This hour differed. As she sat on her cot and waited, she did not want the teaching that was coming for her: The things she was about to know were not what she wanted to learn.