Noom didn't free my arms, but at least he helped me back into the trousers before muttering something about a call and wandering off. I waited for him for a time, but finally the strain of healing this many wounds caught up to me and I fell asleep. The heroin was probably still working its way through my bloodstream because I only woke up when a blanket fell onto my half naked body, and I suddenly looked up into the face of a total stranger.
I squealed. It wasn't my proudest moment, I admit.
"Whoa, easy," the blond giant said, taking two steps back and holding up his hands. "It's just a blanket."
I tried jumping up, but my hands were still tied together and a wave of dizziness rolled over me, making me stumble into the wall behind me and fall down onto my butt. "Get away from me," I coughed, because I couldn't seem to find enough air for screaming through the renewed pain in my shoulder. At this rate it would probably keep hurting forever.
"I'm not— ah, fuck it," the man huffed, then he turned around and yelled: "Noom! He's awake!"
Him calling Noom calmed me down, although not much. It might be a ruse to lull me into false security, but since the stranger didn't try to come closer, I didn't try to scream again.
He watched me watching him for a moment, then he turned his head to the stairs, making a point of looking somewhere else. I could hear distant foot steps, and they sounded heavy enough to come from Nooms scratched boots, but I didn't relax until he came trampling down the wire stairs and I could actually see him. I sagged against the wall with a sigh of relief, then scrunched my face to bite back a pained groan. The shapeshifting had popped my shoulder joint back into the socket, but even magic could only do so much, and rapid healing didn't mean instant healing. I hurt, although it was dull and more annoying than torturing.
"What's goin' on here?" Noom drawled with a sprinkle of annoyance in his voice, but his face never took on that angry look he usually wore when we were alone. "The scrap givin' you trouble?"
The giant made an ambiguous gesture in my general direction, shrugging. "I tried to put a blanket on him because it's freezing cold in here. He freaked and started to scream, or tried to scream, so I thought it might be best you calm him down and introduce us."
Noom frowned and turned to me. He almost looked normal— as far as normal could be used to describe a tattered, blood-smeared punk with ridiculous muscle tone—, standing there next to the blond giant. And they were interacting like normal people, too! It was fascinating to watch.
"Scrap, this is Mike. Mike, this is my scrap. Can I go finish my phone calls now, or am I going to have to baby-sit you two?" he growled, but his eyes were all for me. There was a distinctive warning in them, and it said
'do not fuck this up'
. The stare made me nod quickly, more than the words. He was being polite, well, less aggressive than usual, but it was for Mike's sake, and keeping him happy would be my next big challenge.
"Kel," I corrected softly, watching Noom clank up the stairs again, then my eyes snapped to Mike. "That's my name, Kelaste, or Kel." He was big, both in height and in girth, though most of that girth looked like muscle mass. He had nice eyes though, and right now they looked overwhelmed and confused. That look on his face calmed me down more than anything else because it showed he wasn't used to situations like these.
"I know," he said, finally, "Noom's had me check your background. I know everything about you." This time he sounded proud.
I tried to sit more upright and realized I actually was quite cold. "Why would Noom have you check my background?" I wondered aloud, trying to pull the blanket around my naked upper body with bound hands, and failing.
This time, Mike pointed at the blanket with a questioning face, and only stepped forward when I smiled embarrassedly and nodded. It was a nice gesture, come to think of it. I just wasn't used to people being nice without expecting something in return. So maybe Mike didn't expect something from me, but that only meant he would get paid by Noom, in whatever currency they had arranged.
Stepping forward, he crouched down, picked up the cloth and shook it out before wrapping it around me. His eyes wandered over the belt holding my wrists together, but he neither commented nor tried to remove it, he just tucked me in and stepped back again. "You know someone put a hit out on your head, right?"
I nodded, probably looking bored. Having been shot multiple times seemed to have mellowed down my fear and nerves, which was quite remarkable on its own, if not a cure I'd choose again anytime soon. "So you're looking for people who hate me? That's a short list. The only name on it would be my father."
"Well, yes, he actually is one of our suspects, but it's not as clean-cut as that. I was trying to tell Noom about some of the things I discovered on the phone, but he told me you two are in big shit right now, so I came to pick you up and get you somewhere less exposed." Mike turned around and went to the other side of the small, dirty room, where he picked up a stuffed knapsack.
I watched him open it and start pulling out items that looked vaguely familiar. "So you don't know who is after me, either? You just found more suspects?" I asked, trying not to sound as disappointed as I felt. Again, all I had for comparison were action- and mystery movies, nothing even close to real-life experience, and it bothered me that even two professionals hadn't gotten anywhere in the last two days.
Mike laughed and looked over to me. "Hey, my job's not that easy! Do you know how many stuffy files and reports I had to work through to even reach the conclusion that your father might have an interest in being childless?" He turned back to unpacking, muttering, "he's a smart one, your father, hiding his tracks under false information, blind alleys and a few dozen different shell companies. The rich ones are always like that."
"Like what?" I asked, feeling stupid the moment I said the words.
