Dark Sun Rising

Chapter 8

When Zari finally came to her senses, she could focus more on the details of her surroundings. There was a worn, almost threadbare blanket draped over her. She was curled up in a bed now, having left the cramped limits of the sofa she had woken up on hours...days...ago?

Zari let the heaviness in her eyes dissipate as she tried to piece together how she had wound up here again. She closed her eyes and grimaced as the memories came back to her. Suddenly, she missed the numbness she'd felt when she woke up on the sofa.

She had so much she wanted to tell Zaeed. She had walked straight into that conference room with more confidence than she had felt in years. She wanted to show him she was finally good enough, finally worthy of the family name.

He hadn't even hesitated. Just an empty apology on his lips for his guests, for the minor inconvenience in the shape of his daughter. He'd pulled the trigger so easily.

Zari's body jerked from the memory of being shot. She lifted a hand to her chest, feeling for the wound. Her fingertips grazed some suturing on the skin, under the shirt that had been placed on her.

"Oh, good. Finally decided to join the land of the living, then?" Spike asked.

Zari almost smiled at the snark in his voice. She tried to push herself up. White-hot pain shot through her torso and her body almost gave way. Spike was by her side in an instant, helping her up and adjusting the pillows behind her.

"Thanks," she said shyly. Zari adjusted the blanket about her, crossing her arms subconsciously over her chest.

Spike waved her off.

"We can't keep meeting like this," she tried. "You keep saving my life, and I keep almost dying."

"How about you try not dying so often, then?" Spike snorted, leaning against the wall as he smiled at her. "How'd you wind up here anyway?"

Zari's brow furrowed. "You didn't bring me here?"

Spike uncrossed his legs at the ankle. "No, I did not. I heard a knock on my door and found you lying in a bloody puddle on my doorstep."

"Oh." Zari's hands fell into her lap. "Well, my father shot me square in the chest when I went to go see him. Don't know what happened after that." She noticed her glasses on the nightstand next to her and reached for them, bringing the world into sharp focus.

Spike let out a low whistle. "Shit. Well, the bullet tore right through you. Came out the other side and everything. I was worried it may have bounced around your ribs and torn you up inside. But no major damage was done."

"What did you do?" Zari's voice quivered as she thought about it. She felt as if a bottomless pit had opened up in her stomach. It was a black hole inside her that seemed to devour her slowly. There was barely a glimmer of recognition in her father's eyes.

"I healed you, duh. Took a little work, but you're here in one piece, aren't you? Those sutures are infused with thaumaturgy. They will be gone in about five days"

Zari nodded, trying to look grateful, but the dread was consuming her. A shadow seemed to have possessed her mind, the grief of her encounter with her father weighed on her. So much for the family.

Spike watched as Zari tried to keep her emotions in check, but the girl looked devastated. He didn't have it in him to tell her how bad she had been. The damage wasn't as bad as it had looked initially, but the blood loss was significant. He had to make up an herb concoction infused with magic to stimulate hemoglobin production. Very dangerous. Spike had wondered who could have hurt Zari like this, firing a bullet through her but just narrowly missing her arteries. Was the shot intentional? Or was she just that lucky? Who could hurt someone so full of life, so hungry for adventure?