Dead Ringers; Chapter 7

Light tined the inside of my eyelids red, the scent of herbs filled my nose, and there was something cold and wet on my forehead. Slowly, I opened my eyes. I was in a room, well, more of an office.

On one side of the room, there was a desk heaped with papers sitting below a window, on the other side-where I was-there was a chair and the kind of seat you lay on at the therapist, which I was laying on. The door of the room is open, and I can hear voices from the other room. Sitting up, I reached up to grab whatever was sitting on my head so I could look at it.

I was a white cloth wrapped around something. Curious, I unwrapped it. Inside was some kind of herbal concoction. It didn't smell anywhere as near as nice as the room did. I quickly re-wrap it and placed it beside me on the chair.

The migraine seems to be gone, so I stand up. I walk over to the window and look out. The view is of a back alley. The sun is still high in the sky, so it has to be around noon. I glance around the room for a clock but there is none.

Nothing else to look at, I head for the door. Outside the door, I can hear the voices better, but I don't see anyone. I can see a counter and a small store full of herbs, but no people. I look left and right. I'm standing in a short hallway of sorts. On my left is a door that probably leads to a storage room, as the voices are coming from the doorway on my right. I head towards the door on the right. The closer I get, the more I can make out. I'm nearly at the door when I can make out the whole conversation.

"Do you plan on telling her?" A female voice asks.

"Telling her what?" A male's voice-Detective Miles- asks in response.

"About everything. She needs to know."

"No, she doesn't."

"So you plan on convincing her to leave the case?"

"If only it were that simple."

I stop. I know that I shouldn't eavesdrop, I should keep moving, but I'm pretty sure they're talking about me and I want to know.

"You only have two options here Elijah. Tell or convince her to leave the case."

"No, and I doubt she will."

"She's very headstrong. You know as well as I do what happens to headstrong people who get involved in the Night World without knowing anything."

"Yes. Eaten by dragons, attacked by werewolves or vampires, or some other tragic mishap. Which won't happen."

"Oh? Because you can be sure she won't end up out in the field without your supervision?"

My mind is reeling. The way he said it, so casually, as if it were real. And the woman just took it in stride, not the least bit shocked or surprised by his words.

Detective Miles doesn't respond. Probably just glaring at the woman.

"I'm not saying that to be mean Elijah," the woman continues. "You might have a strong position thanks to your family name and ties, but even they can't protect their family all the time from all their enemies. If anyone thinks they can get something by going after her, they will. Regardless of whether or not she knows anything."

What? This was insane. This person was crazy. And Detective Miles was just going along with this. They were both crazy.

"Not to mention you've made an enemy or two of your own through your work."

"Nothing I can't handle," Detective Miles replies offhandedly.

"Yes," the woman responds, voice dripping sarcasm, "Because you're so wonderful with handling things."

"The dragon attacked first."

"After you incited him."

They grow silent again. I had to get out of here. There was no way I was spending another second here with two lunatics. I turn and begin to head towards the shop. Once I got out of here, I could get a ride back to the station. Or call Elliot.

Their chatting picks up again. I pass the door of the room I was in. A couple more steps and I'm at the doorway that leads into the shop from the back.

"I told you she'd be up, Elijah."

My head snaps towards the voice, it's the woman's. Sure enough, the woman is standing in the hallway now. She's young, around my age, thirty-something. Her build is slight and slender, but tall. She has straight black hair, falling loose around her face, that comes to her shoulders. Her skin is bronzed as if she just went sunbathing. Her eyes are a dull grey. Not the color you'd expect to see with black hair, but oddly fitting.

Detective Miles steps into the doorway behind her to peer out, and my eyes lock on him. His legs are longer than mine, but I'm sure there's enough distance between us to allow me to get out the front door before he reaches me.

"And from the looks of it, I'd say she heard our conversation," the woman muses.

I don't hesitate another second, I turn and bolt for the door.