The Magician Murders (The Art of Murder 3)

She looked surprised, but instead of answering, assured him Dr. Taggert was on his way, and presented him with a small paper cup of medication as though it was a special gift—and judging by the way he felt without the distraction of Sam’s presence, it probably was.

He and the tiny nurse had a brief difference of opinion as to whether he was allowed to use the toilet, but after Jason assured her he had plenty of experience unhooking himself from IVs, she surrendered. Jason was released from his various leashes and permitted to hobble painfully into the cubby-sized restroom on his own.

In the harsh light of the mirror over the sink, he got a good look at himself, and the sight was not reassuring. His left eye was turning purple-black. His good eye was bloodshot, though not quite as gruesome, and he had a red scrape across his forehead. He probably had an assortment of nicks and scratches beneath the dark stubble on his jaw. All in all, he looked pretty disreputable, but his teeth were intact, his nose did not appear broken, so that was the good news.

He lifted up the blue and white hospital gown and got another shock at the vision of ugly bruises and contusions covering his torso and buttocks.

Jesus Christ. He steadied himself on the edge of the sink. Had he been beaten? Hit by a Mack truck?

It seemed like something Sam might have mentioned.

Except Sam had been at his bedside to get information, not give it.

Okay, that was a little cynical. The last twenty minutes had not been particularly heartwarming, but he knew Sam did sincerely care for him, even loved him in his own way. It was just that the job always came first—even when the job was his boyfriend.

Why the hell was no one willing to explain what had happened to him? Why the hell could he not remember?

Jason brushed his teeth, splashed some cold water on his face, used the toilet. The basic necessities seen to, he shakily returned to his bed—more grateful than he wanted to admit at lying flat again—swallowed his meds, had a brief and unsuccessful look

for his phone, and shortly after fell deeply back asleep.

His final thought was the hope that Sam would wake him if he did stop by again before flying out to Seattle.

* * * * *

He woke to the unmistakable scent of Escentric Molecules Escentric 03 men’s cologne—ginger, white pepper, lime, and vetiver made a welcome change from disinfectant and bleach—and the warmth of strong fingers wrapped around his own.

Jason lifted his eyelashes. Sam sat beside his bed, holding Jason’s hand in both of his. Sam’s thumb made small soothing circles on the back of Jason’s hand. His blue eyes regarded Jason, but there was none of the steely determination of earlier. He looked serious, sympathetic.

Jason offered a crooked smile.

“More questions?” he could almost joke about it now that Sam was sitting there looking so concerned. Plus, he felt a little better than the first time he’d woken.

“Only one. How are you feeling?”

Jason grimaced. Not at the question, but because he knew Sam understood that he had been upset by their earlier interview.

“I’m fine. Mad at myself for walking right into…that.” Whatever that had been. It was still really hard to believe someone had tried to snatch him right there in an open parking lot.

“It could have happened to anyone.” Not in Sam’s nature to make excuses for people, so see? He really was fond of Jason.

“Let’s hope,” Jason muttered, and Sam made a sound that could have been agreement or even grim amusement.

Funny thing. Jason had never been a guy for handholding, so it was a revelation how comforting Sam’s touch was.

Sam’s voice broke into his thoughts. “I hear you’ve been giving the nurses a hard time.”

“Me?” Jason was genuinely startled, then remembered the argument over, well, stuff. He flushed. “I just wanted to get back to feeling like normal.”

“I know.” Sam let go of Jason’s hand. He leaned over the low hospital bed and slid a muscular arm beneath Jason’s shoulders, cradling him to be kissed. It was a nice, leisurely kiss. Sort of sweet and sort of sexy. Exactly what Jason needed right then, really, to feel…appreciated.

He kissed Sam back, opening his mouth to Sam’s tongue, which slipped inside, leaving Jason instantly hot and aching and flustered. Sam kissed him with gentle ruthlessness before settling him back against his pillows.

It was like the earlier interview had never happened. Now that Jason was waking up a bit, coming back to himself, he began to wonder why it had.

Wasn’t the attack on him the jurisdiction of Stafford County Sheriff’s Office? Even if the Bureau was asking in on the investigation, surely Sam would not be taking lead? Wouldn’t be included at all. Not only were they personally involved, Sam was a Behavioral Analysis Unit chief. He didn’t waste his valuable time on ordinary run-of-the-mill violent crime.

Furthermore, wasn’t Sam supposed to be on his way to Seattle?