The Bad Guy's Doctor

TWENTY TWO

I press the vinyl into the record player, before tapping the metal rod. I press the start button, before leaning back as a new stream of classical music fills the clinic. The door opens and I peer through my customers, a large figure ducking beneath the doorway. He swivels his head, glancing calming from right to left. He was large, the top of his head a few inches shy of the ceiling. He was dressed in a dark over coat, opened to reveal a vest beneath. I glance down, raising my eyebrows to see that he had wiped his shoes at the door.

He steps along the center of the room, people parting and glancing up to meet his eye. Arsenio wasn't here tonight, he had... business. Jasper was in the back, sorting out tests for the drug that Rosaline gave me with the ones collected from the lab. I take a step back, knocking my knuckles against the wall. The man rubs the back of his neck, his silver eyes flashing over to me.

I crane my neck to look up at him, feeling the obvious attention he's attracting. "Can I help you, sir?" He clears his throat.

"The menu, miss, if you will." His voice is deep and gravelly, with a soft accent.

"The chalkboard." I turn, Jasper jabbing a finger in the direction as he stands next to me. "Where are you from?" The man takes a short step toward it, before looking back at Jasper.

"Quite far away, my friend." He smiles, before pointing at one of the options. "I'll take the main meal. And how much would it cost to take a portion of your time, miss?"

He hands me the money, and I take it, placing it into the register. "It'll be out in a few minutes." I deliberately dodge his question, exchanging a glance with Jasper.

"Visiting?" Jasper picks up, and I turn toward the back.

"Miss." I raise my eyebrow. I hear him take a step, advancing toward the counter. "It'll take a minute—" Jasper wastes no movement. The knife is against the man's neck, and with even a short flick of his wrist, his entire throat could be cut out.

"I think the soup is getting cold, Althea." I move past them, unfazed by their antics. I heat the soup, mixing it slowly. Scooping the soup up with a ladle, I place it into the bowl. These walls were really good at sound proofing.

Picking up the tray, I move toward the doorway and Jasper takes the tray from me. The man has taken a seat at the counter, looking slightly disappointed. "What did he want?"

"To speak to you. He didn't tell me anything else." Someone from far away. Coming into this clinic? Jasper moves away, going to deliver the tray. Who was this man? I watch him accept the tray, glancing toward me for a second before visibly sighing.

Jasper says something and he responds, raising his hands as if to show that he wasn't here to cause problems. My companion nods, before turning with a furrowed brow.

"Doc," Jasper calls to me, walking toward the door to the back. "After you." He gestures inside and I follow his implication, walking into the dim room. Jasper slides the door closed and I lean against the table, looking at the test tubes and reactions scattered about.

"What did he say?"

"He wanted you to operate on someone. You've supposedly treated him before—Zakel, that's his name—and you performed a 'miracle' as he said it." Jasper recollects, crossing his arms. I've treated him? I glance toward the window, blinking slowly as I tried to remember. I've treated so many, there was no way I would be able to recognize Zakel. Was it during my days in training? In the escort business? Or even in the clinic?

Or maybe it was that night where I ran into Jasper, counting the dead of a raid. The night where I saved Arsenio's life as he bled out. I used a device I had thought of recently, and taking a chance, used it. Pumping him high on adrenaline and stopping the bleeding by sealing it with material that kept the blood in. There were others that I treated, many that I couldn't exactly see, but all I needed was a point at a knife wound or a gurgled word on where it hurt the most to start working.