Opal's Wish: Book Four of The Crystal Warriors Series Page 6

  Opal winced in sympathy. If that grimace and those deeply etched lines across his forehead were anything to go on he was suffering a killer migraine.

  “And then?” Desiree’s unsympathetic tone left no doubt she expected an answer.

  “She called me from the crystal,” Dan said.

  “Who did?”

  “Seraphine.” His eyes rolled up until only the whites showed. He gave a hoarse moan and crumpled.

  Chapter Four

  “Dan!” Sera lunged toward the stricken man but Opal grabbed her arm, hauling her in for a tight hug, attempting to shield Sera if her “friend” had suffered something devastating—an aneurism or the like.

  “Ssshhh, Sera. C-C-Calm down.” Easier said than done, Opal knew. She wasn’t the least bit calm. Her heart was thudding like she’d run a record-breaking mile. And the thought of this beautiful, arrogant, hard-as-nails man struck down by some unseen affliction, maybe even dying before her eyes, made her feel frosty-cold and shivery like she’d never be warm again.

  Desiree had dropped to her knees and pressed her fingers to Dan’s throat. She snagged Opal’s gaze and gave her a thumbs up. “Out cold,” she said. “Pulse is strong. Everything seems okay but hey, what do I know? Better get him checked out.”

  “Dan! Daa-aa-an!”

  Sera’s sobs sounded like her little heart was breaking, and joined the chaos churning in Opal’s head. She patted her daughter’s back and made soothing noises… that weren’t having the desired effect because Sera’s hiccups had morphed to hacking coughs interspersed with ominous little whoops.

  “I-I-Inhaler,” she said for Desiree’s benefit as she lurched to her feet with Sera in her arms and headed for her daughter’s bedroom.

  The inhaler was in the top drawer. Opal snatched it and shook it. Almost full because she’d recently refilled the prescription. No reason to panic. She perched on the edge of the bed and maneuvered Sera so she would be upright as possible. “H-H-Here, sweetie.”

  Sera knew the drill. She fastened her lips around the inhaler while Opal gave it one sharp puff timed with Sera’s attempt to inhale.

  A pause while Sera coughed and wheezed. Another puff….

  Opal shoved down the panic and the crippling fear, and steeled herself for the inevitable waiting game. Just as she was beginning to relax, Sera had another coughing fit. Numerous harrowing nights spent listening to her daughter’s whooping breaths left her in no doubt the inhaler hadn’t done its job. She suspected Sera had worn herself out during the earlier attack and was now overwhelmed by everything that had happened these past few hours.

  Opal had no choice. It was going to be a long, painfully expensive night.

  She weighed the pros and cons of somehow loading an unconscious Dan into the vehicle Desiree had borrowed, and driving him and Sera to the nearest E.R. She could leave him there—let the professionals figure out what was wrong with him… and what to do with him. He was a stranger. It wasn’t like she owed him anything. Right?

  Except she did owe him—everything she had to give and more. If he hadn’t intruded, Sera might have died while Liza and her fricking boyfriend were getting it on in the next room. Plus, Sera saw Dan not only as her savior, but a friend. And she would only fret and work herself into a worse state imagining what might have happened to him.

  Opal carried Sera back into the living room. “You should head back to Brooklyn, Desiree. I don’t want you getting in trouble with the event organizers for going AWOL.” Her stutter had vanished again—some small mercy given the circumstances. Odds on it would return, though. And it was likely that by the time she got Sera to the hospital, Opal wouldn’t be capable of uttering even a peep.

  Desiree’s beautiful face twisted into a scowl. “And what are you going to do, may I ask?”

  “The only thing I can do. Call the emergency line and tell the dispatcher I’ve got an unconscious stranger in my living room, and that my daughter needs urgent face time with a nebulizer.” At least, that’s what she tried to say but the words got mangled during delivery.

  Desiree seemed to have a knack for interpreting barely comprehensible words and phrases. She chewed her lip. “I’m hazarding a guess a night in hospital isn’t exactly in the budget. Wouldn’t be surprised our handsome asshole’s in the same boat. Friend of mine works at a free clinic not too far from here. I’ll give him a ring and get him or one of his colleagues down here, stat.”

  Sera coughed and sagged against Opal’s chest, and Opal abruptly lost the will to argue. What an unholy mess. Hot tears stung her eyes, tracked down her cheeks. Another wave of guilt shrouded her. She should never have tried to break out of her shell and attempt something daring, something fun. Something just for herself. It wasn’t worth it.

  Desiree’s arms came about her in a brief but fierce hug. “It’s okay to ask for help, honey. You don’t have to do it all on your own. Let me help you. Please.”

  “Th-Th-thanks.” She sank into the battered easy chair catty-corner from the couch and settled Sera in her lap, angling her so Sera couldn’t see Dan lying there on the scuffed wooden floorboards. A whooping breath from Sera was followed by another fit of coughing that seemed to go on forever. Opal had never felt so useless as she patted Sera’s back and tried to get her to calm her breathing.

  “Dan,” Sera whispered and coughed again.

  “Ssshhh. D-D-Don’t try to t-t-talk.”

  Desiree tucked her mobile into her pants and perched on the arm of Opal’s chair. “I’ve called my doctor-friend, Sera. He’ll look after Dan, and you, too. I promise. Just try to stay calm until he gets here. He was at home, so he’s only a few minutes away. Not long now.”

  “Not long now” was pure hell. Even five minutes of listening to Sera struggle to catch her breath between bouts of coughing seemed like a lifetime.

  A groan snatched their attention. Opal turned her head in time to see Dan pushing himself up from the floor. He leaned against the couch, resting his forearms on his bent knees. “Gods.” He grunted and cleared his throat. “Who hit me?”

  “No one,” Desiree told him, sarcasm lacing her voice. “You were giving us a bunch of BS about a crystal when you went down like someone smacked you upside the head with a brick.”

  Before Opal could prod her sluggish brain to react, Sera slid from her lap and crawled over to Dan. Opal tensed, poised to launch herself from her seat, but Desiree clutched her arm. “Wait. He might be able to calm her down until Roth gets here.”

  Opal didn’t much like the idea. Her instincts were screaming that Dan was a huge unknown quantity. But right now she had few choices, so she’d suck it up and do whatever it took to help Sera through this. But if he scared Sera or hurt her in any way, she’d… she’d… do something drastic.

  “What is wrong, little one?” Dan asked.

  Sera’s reply was drowned in a series of whoops and coughs. Opal clutched her thighs and forced herself to remain still. The concern in the big man’s gaze, his gentle care as he scooped Sera up and settled her in his lap with her head resting against his chest, had to be genuine. No one could be that good of an actor.

  He thumbed the tears from Sera’s face. “Are you having trouble breathing again?”

  She nodded.

  “Did you take the medicine?”

  Another nod.

  “Did it not work, then?”

  A head shake and a sob.

  Opal curled her fingers into tight fists. Her short-clipped nails cut into her palms.

  “We have done this before, little one. Remember?” Dan’s whole focus was on Sera. “Breathe with me, Sera. In. And out. In. And out.”

  His chant went on, never flagging for an instant, just as his gaze never left Sera’s face for an instant. And as Opal watched, mesmerized, after a few tense moments her daughter’s breathing calmed and synced with the big man’s slower, even breaths.

  “Well done, little one,” Dan told his charge. “You have the courage of a sand-cat.”

 
“Are they… very brave?” Sera asked, and to Opal’s relief there was only the slightest hitch in Sera’s voice as she drew breath.

  “Of course. One has only to observe them stalking a viper to know they are fierce little creatures.” He chucked her under the chin. “Like you.”

  She giggled and hugged him.

  “Well I’ll be damned,” Desiree murmured. “It worked.”

  Yes, it had. And Opal couldn’t think of a thing to add. She slumped back in her chair and watched, bemused and enchanted in equal measure, as the big man regaled her daughter with some tale of an intrepid wildcat who’d dared sneak into his tent and make a bed atop the rag he used to clean his… sword? Jesus. He sure had an active imagination.

  The doorbell shrilled.

  “That’ll be Roth.” Desiree made a beeline for the front door.

  Opal tore her gaze from Dan and her daughter, and heaved her lethargic body from the chair to greet Desiree’s friend.

  Roth was a tall, lanky man with black hair so bushy it almost made Sera’s wavy locks seem tame. He’d tied the thick mass back with a leather thong. He wore a Grateful Dead t-shirt that’d seen much better days, jeans so worn they were almost white, and scuffed black hi-tops. And if not for his large blue duffel with the distinctive caduceus enclosed by a six-pointed white star, Opal might have been forgiven for thinking Desiree had phoned a member of an indie grunge band instead of a doctor.

  She opened her mouth to thank him but Roth didn’t spare her so much as a glance as he strode past. Oh. Well, doubtless Desiree had briefed him over the phone, and it had to be a good sign that he was more interested in patients than exchanging pleasantries, right? She sank into her chair and tried to ignore the quivering in her limbs and the fluttering in her stomach—like she’d had one shock too many and was on the verge of collapse.

  Desiree had resumed her perch on the arm of the chair, and now she patted Opal’s shoulder. “Don’t fret. He’s good at his job.”

  “I’m great at my job.” Roth cast the correction over his shoulder as he dropped to his haunches before Dan and Sera. “Which is how I know your friend Opal needs a hot drink with plenty of sugar. She’s pale as a ghost and shaking like a leaf. Make yourself useful, Des.”

  Desiree made a rude face at his back and muttered an equally rude word. “Tea or coffee?” she asked Opal.

  “C-c-coffee.”

  “With milk and two sugars,” Roth said, still without turning around.

  Now it was Opal’s turn to make a rude face. She preferred her coffee black and unadulterated.

  “On it,” Desiree said, and scuttled into the kitchen.

  “You must be Dan,” Roth said.

  “His real name’s Danbur,” Sera piped up. “But he lets me call him Dan.”

  Danbur. Unusual, but Opal liked it. Strong. Exotic. It suited him far more than “Dan”, or heaven forbid “Danny”.

  “That’s real good to know, sweetheart,” Roth said. “Okay, Danbur, there’s a few things I need to know about your medical history.”

  Opal watched Danbur’s face. His mouth had set in that stubborn line again. “I will answer no questions at this time, Healer,” he said. “You will first attend the child.”

  Roth gave an audible huff of displeasure. “You were unconscious. She’s over the worst now. She can wait ’til I’ve checked you out.”

  “Sera first. This is not a negotiation, Healer. This is a fact.”

  “Your funeral, dude.”

  Danbur’s eyes turned cold and deadly. “Or likely yours if you fail to heed what I observed during Sera’s breathing attacks.”

  Desiree’s friend didn’t miss a beat. “I’m listening,” he said. And once Danbur had said his piece, proceeded to question him thoroughly. Then he seamlessly switched his attention to Sera. “Hey, sweetheart, I’m Roth. Your mom’s friend Desiree tells me you had a bit of a scare tonight, so I need to check you’re okay.”

  Sera nodded solemnly.

  Desiree returned with a mug of sweet milky coffee for Opal, and another mug of something for herself. They sat in silence, sipping their drinks and watching Roth do his thing.

  He was über-gentle with Sera, allowing her to stay in Danbur’s lap. And Roth even got her to giggle as he deployed his stethoscope and had Sera perform the usual breathing tests with the peak flow meter.

  When he was done, he ruffled Sera’s hair and sat back on his heels. “Doing good, sweetheart,” he said. “You just need to catch some Zs. No need to break out the noisy, boring old nebulizer.” He held up his palm and Sera hi-fived him.

  “I know you’re real comfortable there,” Roth said, “but it’ll be easier for me to check Danbur out if you find another seat. That okay with you?”

  Only once Sera nodded did Danbur lift her from his lap. “Can I hold Dan’s hand while you do the ’xamination?” she asked. “It’s scary when doctors are ’xamining you and stuff.”

  “Sure thing, Sera.” To his credit, Roth didn’t crack a joke about Danbur about needing a kid to hold his hand. Apparently Roth had a well honed sense of self-preservation.

  Danbur stood and stretched the kinks from his back and shoulders—a procedure that revealed a strip of defined abs that would be the envy of any gym junkie, and that made Opal inhale her coffee. Desiree seemed to be smothering laughter as she helpfully whacked Opal’s back. “You and me both, girlfriend,” she muttered, and not-so-surreptitiously fanned her face.

  When Danbur sat on the couch, Sera climbed up next to him and slipped her hand into his curled palm. She observed the proceedings with scared, saucer-like eyes. She’d obviously picked up on the possibility he might have something seriously wrong with him. Poor kid.

  Opal did her level best to divide her attention between the three of them. Every time Roth frowned, her stomach plummeted to her toes. Then, inevitably, her gaze would drift to Danbur’s face and she would find herself wondering how such full lips could be so damned masculine they made her toes curl. Cue jerking her gaze to Sera, instead, and worrying over the absorbed expression on her daughter’s face as Sera stared up at Danbur—like he was her whole world.

  Opal could have felt jealous at that worshipful regard; she had, after all, been Sera’s whole world for almost nine years. But all she felt was sadness and intense regret. She’d given Sera everything she had to give. She’d told herself it was enough, believed she was enough. But she wasn’t. Sera needed a father-figure—that was painfully obvious given the way she’d bonded with Danbur in such a short time.

  And Danbur? He looked like there was something missing in his life, too. And that something was—

  Sera.

  Opal blinked and mentally shook herself. No way was she standing by while some “handsome asshole”, who’d forced his way into their lives, formed an unnatural attachment to her daughter.

  She fixed her attention on Roth again, willing him to hurry through the examination. The sooner Danbur got the all clear, the sooner she could boot his handsome ass out of her house. Meaning Sera would be safe from his influence, and Opal would be able to rid herself of these ridiculous and wholly inappropriate feelings for a stranger who’d made it brutally clear he didn’t think much of her.

  Roth hung his stethoscope around his neck and tugged on the ends. “You appear to be healthy as a horse, Danbur. But I’d recommend you get to a clinic and get some scans done—just to be sure.”

  “If this clinick is a place where Healers congregate to prod and poke patients and make their lives a misery, then I think not.”

  Curiosity flit across Roth’s face but he didn’t launch an inquiry into Danbur’s origins. Sensible. Because apparently Danbur wasn’t a fan of personal questions.

  “Passing out cold isn’t something to be taken lightly,” Roth said, “especially in light of the headaches prior to losing consciousness. In my professional opinion—”

  “I respect your professional opinion greatly, Healer. But further investigation into my health is not an option ope
n to me at this time.”

  The two men locked gazes but it was Roth who backed down. “Okay, then. I guess my job here is done.” He packed up his gear and sauntered over to introduce himself. “Roth Morgan.”

  Opal shook his proffered hand. “O-O-Opal S-S-Stewart.” She waited for the inevitable barrage of well-meaning advice about managing her stutter but he only smiled. Points to him. She managed a wan smile in return.

  “Thanks for making a house call, Roth,” Desiree said. “What do I owe you?”

  Opal mentally tallied the meager contents of her purse and hoped he’d accept a check. But before she could speak up, Roth drawled, “Dinner. This coming Friday.”

  “I’m busy,” Desiree said.

  “Saturday, then.”

  “I’m busy all that weekend.”

  “You’re always busy.”

  “What can I say? I’m a popular girl.”

  No surprises there, Opal thought. She’d bet her right arm Desiree had more male attention than any woman could possibly want.

  “Following Saturday, then.” Roth got full points for persistence.

  “Sorry. No can do.”

  “Sunday. Matinee at the Iron Horse Theater.”

  Desiree’s eyebrows arched and a gleam of interest chased the assumed boredom from her eyes. “What’s playing?”

  “Special screening of The Fifth Element.”

  “You’re on.” Desiree grinned mischievously at him. “I adore Bruce Willis.”

  “And I love Milla Jovovich… and that outfit.”

  “The one that looks like a strip of bandages?”

  “That’s the one. Mmm hmmm. Bet you’d look hot in that outfit, my lovely. Not that I’m hinting what you should wear or anything.”

  “Don’t push your luck,” Desiree said, but she was smiling as she said it.

  “I’ll text you the details.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Roth looked smug as a cat that’d happened on a bowlful of cream and Opal couldn’t help but be impressed by the way he’d handled being turned down multiple times. In front of witnesses. But then, maybe that level of persistence was normal for singles these days? Not that Opal had any interest in flirting or dating. She was too busy raising her daughter. And avoiding men.