Finding out

***

"Everybody on the floor! Now!" Blackheath ordered.

Healers collapsed to the floor all over the place.

"Untie my wrist. Do it, or I'll shoot her!"

The nearest nurse stood shakily and untied his other wrist. He passed the gun to his other hand, directing me round with it so he could see all the Souls at once.

I was like a statue. My sister was in love with a killer. A cold blooded mass murderer. My Dorsey. I couldn't bear for her to love him. What would it take for her to realize what he was really like?

And then I knew what it would take.

I turned to face him, slowly placing myself square between him and the others. He stood, leaning on the bed slightly, watching me guardedly.

"Don't try the guilt thing. It's not going to work," he said curtly.

"What guilt thing?" I replied, looking at him steadily. "We tried to save your life in the desert; you ended up alive but scarred. You tried to save my baby, she was born premature but she survived… you shot my son but you tried to save him… I'd say that makes us quits."

His eyes darted from me to the others and back. His arm had fallen slightly, so the gun was now pointed at my chest.

"I'm exactly the same as all of them," I went on, "They all have sisters, sons, daughters, husbands… If anything, I should be the easiest one to kill. I'm a Seeker."

His eyes reminded me of a wolf's: piercing, wary, unreadable.

"Go on," I said, leaning on the tip of the gun.

I closed my eyes and waited, listening for him to pull the trigger.

I heard the sound of a gunshot and I felt no pain. Blackheath was the one who was screaming. I opened my eyes and saw him on the floor, clutching his arm, blood spurting between his fingers. My gun was on the floor beside him. I gazed at it, confused. Someone grabbed me from behind in a bear hug. Alex, of course, I thought as my legs dissolved. He pulled me away from the mass of Healers swarming around Blackheath, and sat me on another bed.

"You ok?" he said, holding my shoulders tightly and looking deep into my eyes. His poor head was still a hodge-podge of bruises.

I nodded. I couldn't quite get the hang of speaking again. He kissed my forehead and glanced back out the door. I followed his gaze.

Dorsey was standing in the middle of the corridor, staring at Blackheath's body in shock. I called out to her and she stared at my outstretched hand like she didn't recognize it. She looked gutted. Finally she came away from him.

"He was going to shoot you," she whispered.

"But he didn't," I said softly. Would he have? Now I didn't know. I guess we never would.

We sat for a while, staring at the floor. Eventually Alex took us out to the car, guiding us like sheep. Alex's knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he drove.

"You're going to tell me you went in there to yell at him for beating me up, aren't you?" he said finally, "I sure hope you are, because I can't come up any other good reason for you to be there."

I shot him a warning look. Dorsey was curled on the back seat, silent and pale.

"What's going to happen to him?" she whispered.

Alex and I glanced at each other.

"I don't know," Alex said softly. But he did know. Cold storage. An appointment with Shepherds Sound, the Soul that had once saved his life would now take it from him.

***

I had finally persuaded Dorsey to eat something, and put her to bed. She lay stiffly, staring at the mattress. I rubbed her back for a while, but she didn't relax. Finally I left her alone.

Alex was waiting for me in the kitchen, fists propped on the table, trying to keep his anger under control.

"You want to tell me what you were doing in there?" he said, jaw taught, unable to look at me.

"I wanted to make sure Dorsey had a chance to say goodbye," I said evenly. He looked at me darkly, eyes burning beneath the bruises.

"That's not what I heard," he growled. "I heard you telling him it would be easier to shoot you because you were a Seeker."

Oh, that.

"I did say that," I nodded slowly. Alex looked away, too furious to speak for a moment.

"You were trying to make him shoot you," he said finally.

"Yes, I was trying to make him shoot me," I said, watching him carefully. Alex punched the table hard.

"I wanted to see if he would. I needed to know," I continued slowly, trying to make him understand.

"You were curious?!" Alex hissed, incensed. "And what about us? Don't we matter at all to you?"

"Alex…" I closed my eyes in frustration, "It wasn't loaded. It wasn't loaded. He took it straight out of my holster. You think I'm just going to walk around the city with a clip in my gun? He would have pulled the trigger and nothing would have happened. But he didn't. He didn't pull the trigger."

Alex looked at me, stunned, trying to get his head around this. I watched him silently, waiting for him to understand, waiting for him to realize what this meant.

"Why do you do this to me?" he whispered finally, wrapping me tightly in his arms and pressing his face to mine. I put my arms around him and held him quietly, feeling his closeness at the same time as realizing I was alone. He didn't understand.