Shifted

Chapter 20: The "Good" Doctor

When I woke again, not much had changed. The room was still dark and the rhythmic beeping continued behind me. My head was much clearer now and my sisters were gone. Dillon was near the door, his voice rising a little as he was getting frustrated with a nurse.

"I'm sorry, sir. She must be discharged by the doctor, at which point you can take her wherever you'd like," the nurse said impatiently.

Dillon sighed and ran a hand through his thick hair. He shifted his body weight just a bit toward the nurse and smiled kindly. Her aura immediately changed and she smiled back tentatively.

"Do you think you can have the fine doctor stop by? I would really appreciate it," he said, smiling a bit wider.

"I'll see what I can do," she blushed.

"Now we're suckin' diesel,'' Dillon ran a hand through his hair again, mussing his short curls perfectly. The nurse had to catch her breath as her flirty aura buzzed around her before walking out.

"What was that?" I laughed. Dillon looked over at me, surprise on his face.

"Just making sure we can bust you out of here before anyone else tries to get to you," he smirked.

"Glad to see you're sparing no emotional expense." It was funny to watch, I hadn't seen him turn on the charm to get something he wanted before. He was very good at it, but not as subtle as he may have thought he was. "So, what's next for us?"

"Ah well, my dad is looking for you... as well as only about ten other world leaders from countries we haven't even spoken with civilly in the past century. Fortunately for us, my father has enough delegates and ambassadors on his doorstep to distract him for a while. As for where I'm taking you, I have an old pal named Kit who lives in the Cotswolds. He'll be able to train you up in Mind Shifting," Dillon concluded.

"The Cotswolds?" I asked.

"Yes, in Bibury, England. It's nice and quiet, so you should be able to continue healing without too much stress," Dillon said thoughtfully. "Now, the good doctor should be in soon. He's a friend of the family but I suppose that could mean my father has likely already gotten to him. I know your head must be in knots, but see if you're able to hear his thoughts when he visits. If my father has already spoken with him, we'll need to persuade him to discharge you now."

A wave of anxiousness washed over me as I imagined trying to Mind Shift with such an important purpose. Dillon must have sensed this as he put his hands on both of mine and leaned forward, his lips hovering just in front of mine.

"You've got this, lass" he whispered, quickly kissing me full on the lips. He pulled away, leaving me breathless as we heard a soft knock at the door.

"Good morning," the man's chipper voice called out, flipping through pages on a chart. He came to a stop in front of me and his jaw dropped, as did mine.

"Grey? I mean Dr...?" I gasped.

"McTavish," he answered, equally shocked. I barely had a second to think clearly, when Grey's thoughts ran through my head.

What is Brody's daughter doing here? the doctor thought. Just by simply willing myself to push past the barrier in his mind, I was able to hear his thoughts clear as a bell. Shit, this is going to complicate things. Why the hell is Declan worried about this girl?

"Dr. McTavish," my voice cut the air like a knife. Dillon and the doctor's eyes snapped to me. "Could you explain to us all of the diagnoses from my fall and what each one entails for my health long term? Dillon was asking so that he can properly care for me when I'm discharged."

"Certainly, I can," his smile was sickly sweet. "I'm not sure about discharge just yet, but let's start with the concussion and work our way down."

While Dr. McTavish began railing off complex medical jargon, I pushed further past the barrier in his mind, past his current thoughts, and back to his memories. It was fascinating and almost inexplicable how I could see his memories organized like files in a drawer. I sifted through the files with names like Home, Childhood, Uni, and Medical School until I found one that said DECLAN.