Inborn (The Birthright Book 1)

Chapter 9

When I woke up again, I was presumably in a bed in the ER. I could hear beeping and muffled voices and other noises outside my room. My heart raced. Hospitals and people with alien DNA were not a good mix. If they'd taken blood, they would realize something was wrong. We used low-level DNA-altering serum for mandatory blood tests and other things, but I had nothing in my system that minute but me and I was not human. I didn't have any ID on me since I left my bag with Xavier, so maybe they didn't know who I was. And they couldn't do anything without parental consent, right?

I examined the IV in my arm, struggling to concentrate enough to wiggle the tube off. I finally yanked it out, clear liquid squirting all over. I sat up to get on my feet, which was a good idea considering I needed to find Bryce and get us out of there and to our home, but as soon as I moved, the room spun like one of those pinwheels I used to have sometimes as a kid. I shut my eyes tight, willing my mind to get a grip so I could walk without crashing on my face.

I stood tentatively and shuffled to the clear glass doors that were partially covered with a curtain so I could peek out. It was a small hospital, but the ER still felt frantic. Nurses and people in plain clothes rushed back and forth, phones rang, and machines beeped. No one seemed to be paying too much attention, so I cracked open a sliding door and stuck half my body out to get a better look. There were a couple policemen hanging around the nurse's desk a few feet away, but they weren't looking my direction. I slipped out, hugging the wall.

The room was oval-shaped, ringed by rooms identical to mine. Unless the curtains were shut, I could see in each room. Nobody paid any attention, so I stood up straight, like I was supposed to be walking around and not strapped to a hospital bed. The first room was empty, the second one had an older woman in the bed, but I found Bryce in a room behind the nurse's station. I checked around, but nobody seemed to notice me, so I opened one of the doors just enough to squeeze inside, and shut the curtains.

Bryce was in rough shape. He had cuts and gashes and bruises forming all over his face, and his arm was in a splint. The truck had rolled his way, so I figured he took the brunt of the impact. He looked like he was asleep, his chest rising and falling evenly with an oxygen mask on his face.

"Bryce," I whispered. "Bryce. Can you hear me?" Nothing but the whoosh from the oxygen tank and beep from the IV. "If you can hear me, grunt or blink or something." Still nothing.

I didn't know how long I had until someone came back around to check on him, so I got to work disconnecting the IV. I had an easier time with his. Then I took the oxygen mask off. But how was I supposed to get him through a portal? Roll the bed into our living room? I could hear voices approaching the door and I just had this feeling that those sliding doors were about to swish open.

I hugged Bryce around his stomach and focused all my energy on dragging him off the bed and through a portal. It was a lot harder than it should've been, so obviously I was still drugged. He didn't look like much, but he was heavier than I anticipated and we stumbled into my living room and toppled onto the area rug in front of the couch. Bryce landed on his side, facedown, in a crumpled pile. He finally showed some sign of life and groaned.

"Mom!" I screeched, my voice cracking at the end. My throat was dry and scratchy.

I stopped to listen for a minute, realizing the house was awfully quiet. I had taken us to my home, right? I checked my surroundings. Yep. We were definitely home.

I rolled Bryce onto his back. "I'm sorry," I said. "I'm so sorry. I'll be right back. Hold on."

No one was downstairs, so I ran up, yelling for my parents, but received no answer from anyone. So I tried the secret basement, then the regular basement. Nobody. I grabbed the kitchen phone and dialed my mom's cell number, my hands shaking. It rang and rang and finally went to voicemail. The same thing happened with my dad and brother. What use were phones if no one ever answered them?!