Chapter 10

I sat vigil at my wife's bedside as she slept, that night. I don't know whether it was the lessening of the stress, now that I knew that my wife was going to live, or the fact that I now had a comfortable chair ... or both ... but I soon dozed off. As I slept, I dreamt of all that had taken place, from the shooting onward. It was strange to me that in my sleep state I seemed to be more lucid, more focused, than when awake.

The first thing that I decided to do, was to develop a shield strong enough to stop bullets. However, as I tried to assess the whole situation, the doctor's demeanor kept popping to the top. I became so deeply concerned, that I woke up!

What I saw chilled me to the bone! At the same time, it angered me greatly! The doctor was holding a syringe to my neck!

"Not to worry, Mr. Mohr, I'll take very good care of this lovely slave. She will lack for nothing," he said as he tried to inject me in the neck.

His problem became very evident when I moved so fast that he could not react in time to defend himself. I spun away from the syringe, and then grabbed his wrist. I moved his hand up to his own neck, jamming the needle totally into his flesh. At the same time I covered his mouth with my other hand. The man became so frightened that he emptied both his bowels and his bladder.

He was terrified!

I dragged him into the room's private bathroom before any of his foul smelling waste could soil the floor.

I kicked the door shut and then slipped my hand from his mouth to his throat and asked, "What is in this syringe?"

"Insulin."

"Why?"

"Because they don't look for it, when they do a normal post mortem."

"Why do you want to kill me?"

"I want that lovely slave of yours. My others are getting older and this one is so young and sweet and the cost of a newly trained girl is too dear for me at this time; besides, I saved her life so she is mine already."

"How did you know that she is my slave?"

"In her delirium, she kept calling for her master. When I asked who he was, she named you, Mr. Mohr."

"Hate to disappoint you, buddy, but she really is my wife, and you're the one that is going to die, tonight."

As I said that, I put my thumb on top of his on the plunger and pressed it home; the clear liquid shot into the man's neck.

"No ... No ... This can't be happening..." said the doctor as he looked at me with eyes as large as saucers.

I grabbed his mind. I instructed him to go to his office, write release papers for Adin and a suicide note for himself, and then to go to sleep. Dumbly, he stumbled from the room.

He walked down the hall muttering softly, over and over: "I can't take this anymore."

After he left the room I cleaned up his urine, which had leaked onto the floor. I washed up, and returned to my vigil. The next morning, there was a terrible commotion down at the nurse's station. The doctor must have been well liked, because most of the women were hugging and weeping, openly.

Twenty minutes later, a blotchy faced nurse came into the room to take Adin's vitals.

I asked, "When can I take my wife home?"

The nurse looked up at me as if I had struck her, she then dropped everything and ran from the room, crying.

The ruckus woke Adin and she looked around, concerned, until she saw me. Then she smiled, and closed her eyes again. Reassured, she instantly fell asleep.

I picked up the things that the nurse had dropped, and wandered out to the nurse's station with them. Even though I knew what had happened I wore a confused yet concerned expression.

I walked over to a middle-aged nurse that alone seemed not to be upset and asked, "What's going on? My wife's nurse came in to take vitals and then just broke down. Also the doctor said that I could take my wife home, today. He said that he would have things all set ... you know, the papers, and stuff."

The woman started and looked up at me and then asked, "The patient's name?"

"Adin Mohr."

After a series of clicks as the woman worked the keys on her keyboard she went pale and said to herself, "Must have been the last thing that he did, before..."

Tears rolled silently from her eyes as she continued to work. A moment later I could hear a printer start up. The nurse spun her chair around and pushed herself off from the desk. The chair rolled briskly but silently across the space and stopped right in front of the printer. She gathered the needed papers, and reversed her maneuver in a very practiced manner, ending right where she had started.

"Here are your wife's papers. Another nurse will be in, presently. She will explain the instructions, and help you get your wife ready to travel."

This woman was textbook professional! Once she had given me the paperwork she reached for the tissue box and extracted several tissues. She then turned her back toward me and with great dignity wiped her eyes and quietly blew her nose.

"What is going on, nurse? The staff seems to be very upset?"

"Oh! Doctor Ravarri committed suicide early this morning. He was well liked and will be greatly missed."

"Really? He seemed fine, yesterday, when I talked with him. I'm sorry for your loss. I will go and wait for the nurse," I said.

I turned and found my way back to Adin's room. Once there, I began to feed Adin magical energy to help her heal and regain her memory.

One hour later, a hospital volunteer entered the room with the breakfast menu. She also told me that I could call the kitchen when we were ready. I gently woke Adin with a thought and asked her what she wanted. Her response was that she wanted a fresh fruit plate.

I made the call and then helped Adin into the bathroom. Even with all of the power that I had poured into my woman up to now she was still as shaky as an aspen in the wind. Once she was back in bed, I decided to give her as much energy as she could take. I pushed until I felt resistance. I pulled back just a tad and kept repeating the cycle as she absorbed the energy. Eventually I was no longer able to infuse her with any more energy and I stopped.

"Wow! That was something!" exclaimed Adin.

I got concerned and asked, "Did I hurt you, honey?"

"Yes. Well ... no, not really. You know when your leg or arm falls asleep and then you move, and you get all those horrible pins and needles?" she asked with an earnest expression.

"Yes."

"Well, that's what it felt like, only ten times worse!"

"Damn, Adin! I'm so sorry! You should have said something," I said as I gave her a big hug."

"Why? I know you will never hurt me unless it is needed, so I knew that I had to endure the feeling, for my own good. Now that it is over, I feel a lot better, but..."

Adin had a puzzled look on her face as she continued to speak, "I can't seem to remember everything. It's as if I have big holes in my head. Uhm ... kind of like shutting the TV off before the end of a program, the memories are there but some are incomplete."

"What are the last things that you remember?"

Adin furrowed her brows in that cute way of hers as she thought for a minute.

"Well ... I remember going for a ride then ... Nope that one stops there. The next thing that I remember is going for a walk through the park and taking to all of the other campers and then ... and then ... and then we went to look at the place back in the woods and..." Adin became frustrated. She knew that there was more but could not access it. "That's all I can remember. Then I woke up here in the hospital and everything was really, really fuzzy, like I was on some good drugs. Then I went in and out until you did your wizard thing on me. Damn, that really hurt!"

Adin shrugged and shook her head and asked, "I'm missing some important stuff aren't I?"

"Don't worry about it, honey."

Just then the biggest man I had ever seen darkened the door! Well ... he not only darkened the doorway he filled it! As he entered he needed to turn sideways to get his shoulders through the door and he had to duck his head to miss hitting his head on the lintel. He was dressed in a blue suit, white shirt, plain dark tie and shiny shoes. Everything about this man just screamed 'FBI'.

"Good you're awake," he said, more to himself than to Adin.

"May I help you?" I asked coldly.

I felt that bad feeling that had become my warning beacon since I became a wizard.

The man heard the coldness in my voice and gave me a hard stare. I guess that his look was supposed to intimidate me. It failed! He realized that fact and was not happy.

"Again, what can I do for you, Agent?"

The man whipped out his identification in a practiced way, and spoke at the same time, "Special Agent Thomas Marshall, FBI."

Just then an exasperated female voice sounded from behind the big man, "Marshall! Get out of my way!"

The big man acted as if he had been goosed, and then stepped to the side to allow a diminutive woman into the room. She too was dressed in the FBI 'uniform'; but, on her, it didn't look comical.

"I'm Special Agent in Charge Carol Stiles, FBI."

I was not happy that these people were here, and it showed when I again spoke to them coldly.

"How may I help you?" I said, indicating that they were not to bother my wife.

The small woman raised her right eyebrow and slanted her head as she assessed me.

Then she said, "We need to ask you and your wife some questions."

"Really? And you expect to get answers from a woman that was shot in the head and has partial amnesia? My, my! How thoughtful and considerate you are!" I said, my voice fairly dripping with disgust and repugnance.

The big man took offense at my attitude and took a step toward me as he said, "Look here, buddy you... "