told Caesar to call Lincoln’s medical evac-team. If he’d called, she would have had the best doctors and nurses money could buy; not the medical techs employed by the city. Lucien would blame himself if she died.
“You’ve got to live.” He mouthed the words, causing a passing nurse to question him.
“I’m sorry Mr. Delors--were you talking to me?”
He shook his head, then he said...
“No...I was talking to myself--but I didn’t answer.”
She smiled, then said...
“Can I get you a cup of tea? I understand that we might receive a patient on your family’s wing--a guest, I’ve been told.”
Lucien nodded but he couldn’t get that one word out of his head--might. She’d said that they might receive a patient. He waved his hand, then said...
“No tea--but thank you for offering. If anyone is looking for me--I’ll be in the waiting room.”
Lucien turned, wanting more than anything to be alone. He didn’t deal well with crisis--and this was his first time waiting to learn if a person had lived or died. Oh God, he prayed. Please--don’t let her die.
“I don’t even know her name.” He said.
Lucien reached in his pant pocket. When he pulled out the band, a wash of shame overtook him. This was evidence and possibly a means of identifying the young woman. While he’d been talking to the street cop, he should have given the band to him--but he didn’t; largely because he couldn’t. This fabric was a tangible connection to her--the beautiful broken dove. The Samaritan woman who’d compelled him in ways no other woman ever had. Lucien closed his eyes, and his thoughts went to Marisela. His sister had been right. For years, he’d noticed her friends attention and the way she flirted and always complimented him, over other men. Marisela was lovely, poised, attractive, and any man would be lucky to have her. Lucien opened his hand, and he examined the black band, twisting it using his thumb. He was sure this band belonged to a man--and the idea pained his stomach. Samaritan's never married outside of their Sect--and he knew this. But--Lucien couldn’t help himself. Some part of him wanted this woman to be single--and it didn’t matter that the idea went counter to every idea that governed his and her life.
He flipped his wrist, checking the time and he wondered if her surgery had begun.
“Be all right. Please--be all right.” He said...because for now--more than anything, it didn’t matter if she was single or married to the owner of the black band. For now, Lucien would give anything if it meant that his broken dove would survive.
**********
Chapter 6
6:58 PM
Samaritan Commune
Zachary and Aldeara Zelle’s home
“How many times does he have to repeat himself mom? He went back to the Conclave and Ona wasn’t there. She wasn’t there and she wasn’t anywhere in the area.”
Caleb was the Zelle’s adopted son, and he’d lived with them since he was twelve. Before joining their family, he’d lived a life of wealth and privilege. After his parents had been killed in an unexplained accident, through the generosity of the Zelle’s; Caleb had been taken in, then adopted into their family. That had been eighteen years ago, and still he found it difficult adjusting to Samaritan customs, rules and practices. For him, being a Samaritan, living alongside a modern world; the idea was maddening, as well as an extreme contradiction in terms.
Zachary Zelle held up his hand, appealing for silence. In a compromising voice he said...
“We’re only asking to be sure. In this situation, there are any number of reasons that would explain Ona’s tardiness--and we wouldn’t want to ignore either of them.”
Caleb was exhausted. The second Noah arrived at their parents home alone, he’d had misgivings and he wanted to know what had happened to Ona. When his protective instincts kicked in, every
“You’ve got to live.” He mouthed the words, causing a passing nurse to question him.
“I’m sorry Mr. Delors--were you talking to me?”
He shook his head, then he said...
“No...I was talking to myself--but I didn’t answer.”
She smiled, then said...
“Can I get you a cup of tea? I understand that we might receive a patient on your family’s wing--a guest, I’ve been told.”
Lucien nodded but he couldn’t get that one word out of his head--might. She’d said that they might receive a patient. He waved his hand, then said...
“No tea--but thank you for offering. If anyone is looking for me--I’ll be in the waiting room.”
Lucien turned, wanting more than anything to be alone. He didn’t deal well with crisis--and this was his first time waiting to learn if a person had lived or died. Oh God, he prayed. Please--don’t let her die.
“I don’t even know her name.” He said.
Lucien reached in his pant pocket. When he pulled out the band, a wash of shame overtook him. This was evidence and possibly a means of identifying the young woman. While he’d been talking to the street cop, he should have given the band to him--but he didn’t; largely because he couldn’t. This fabric was a tangible connection to her--the beautiful broken dove. The Samaritan woman who’d compelled him in ways no other woman ever had. Lucien closed his eyes, and his thoughts went to Marisela. His sister had been right. For years, he’d noticed her friends attention and the way she flirted and always complimented him, over other men. Marisela was lovely, poised, attractive, and any man would be lucky to have her. Lucien opened his hand, and he examined the black band, twisting it using his thumb. He was sure this band belonged to a man--and the idea pained his stomach. Samaritan's never married outside of their Sect--and he knew this. But--Lucien couldn’t help himself. Some part of him wanted this woman to be single--and it didn’t matter that the idea went counter to every idea that governed his and her life.
He flipped his wrist, checking the time and he wondered if her surgery had begun.
“Be all right. Please--be all right.” He said...because for now--more than anything, it didn’t matter if she was single or married to the owner of the black band. For now, Lucien would give anything if it meant that his broken dove would survive.
**********
Chapter 6
6:58 PM
Samaritan Commune
Zachary and Aldeara Zelle’s home
“How many times does he have to repeat himself mom? He went back to the Conclave and Ona wasn’t there. She wasn’t there and she wasn’t anywhere in the area.”
Caleb was the Zelle’s adopted son, and he’d lived with them since he was twelve. Before joining their family, he’d lived a life of wealth and privilege. After his parents had been killed in an unexplained accident, through the generosity of the Zelle’s; Caleb had been taken in, then adopted into their family. That had been eighteen years ago, and still he found it difficult adjusting to Samaritan customs, rules and practices. For him, being a Samaritan, living alongside a modern world; the idea was maddening, as well as an extreme contradiction in terms.
Zachary Zelle held up his hand, appealing for silence. In a compromising voice he said...
“We’re only asking to be sure. In this situation, there are any number of reasons that would explain Ona’s tardiness--and we wouldn’t want to ignore either of them.”
Caleb was exhausted. The second Noah arrived at their parents home alone, he’d had misgivings and he wanted to know what had happened to Ona. When his protective instincts kicked in, every
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