VII
“Really, Doc, I’m fine,” Lucan said, trying to climb off a hospital bed. His arm was in a sling and he was hooked up to an IV. He tugged at the IV, but a proximity spell glowed around his elbow and kept the needle in place.
His shoulder ached, but morphine coursed through his veins and dulled the pain somewhat. He felt a rosy, easygoing feeling, the kind that came over him when was about to go on a date. He tasted saline solution in his mouth, even though he hadn’t drunk anything. It was wet, cold, and briny.
He was in a hospital suite, surrounded by couches and plush chairs. It was a maternity room but because it was on the top floor of the hospital, the doctors had put him here because of his celebrity status, and the maternity wing was protected from the press since visitors had
