XIX
Lucan was irritable on the ride to the factory. His shoulder was killing him.
Miri hadn’t been able to take her eyes off his sling. She was incredulous and had watched in disbelief as he told her about Detective Shalewood’s questions.
His phone vibrated. A reminder to take his pills. He groaned and reached into his suit coat, pulling out an orange bottle of pills.
He preferred to use restorative magic, but the costs were too severe and with an open wound like his, the effects would be aggravated.
He swallowed two thick white pills, winced as he swallowed.
“I hate these things,” he said.
“I still think you should be resting,” Miri said.
Lucan rested his head against the seat. “Yeah, I’ll do that and let everything go to shit.” He c****d one eye open. “So tell me. What’s the plan
