The Bodyguard's Claim {manxman}

TBC: Chapter Nineteen

Dr. Nicca James Alfarone

"Where am I?" blinked my eyes open, a bit surprised when they didn't hurt. I was more surprised with the fact that I could actually open them fully. I was still in a bit of a haze as I looked around, the remnants of the blue walls and familiar photos and the clothes all over the floor made me realize that I was in my room, in my bed. "Huh?" I asked breathlessly, reaching a hand up to rub my head. "What happened?" I whispered, trying to run my mind through the events that took prior to this. Was I dead? 

"Hey. Sit up." I turned my head slightly to see Jose sitting next to me, a small smile on his face. I did as he told, wondering why it was so easy for me to sit up. My back was nearly paralyzed and my arms were bleeding and they were numb as if I didn't have any. But as I looked at my tanned arms and legs, there was a shocking revelation on the fact that there was no blood and no evidence that I had been kidnapped. "Huh?" I sputtered, flipping away the blankets as I stared at my leg, appalled. "I had to have been having a nightmare that seemed real because I truly remember touching my bone that was splinting apart in my shin!" I gasped in horror. Was I imagining things? Was this magic? What was happening? I ran my fingers along my leg, feeling my blood running through the veins. Just moments ago, there was blood running down the side of my leg as my flesh was open and exposed to the dangers of the air. My bone was sticking out, breaking apart with every move I made. I reached my fingers up to my face, feeling no marks or anything at all. "No. No. No." I shook my head. "I did not imagine that." I started shuddering in confusion as Jose smiled as gently as he could. "That's because you didn't imagine it." He grabbed my hand, a serious look in his eyes like he was about to tell me something life changing.

"What do you mean?" I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering if he was making me seem like I was the crazy one here. "Then where is the blood? The bandages? Why don't I see anything of that?!" I was on the verge of panicking. Was I seeing things? "That's because Mikhail took your pain." Jose said like that wasn't the most unheard thing he ever said. "What?!" I curled my lip up in absurdity, wanting him to stop filling my head with all of these conspiracies. "Jose, Mikhail isn't a doctor so explain to me how he would be able to make me look like this." I rubbed my head, the onset of a headache coming as he stared at me. "Well, as a wolf, he has the ability to take others pain and heal them by touching them." He explained casually and I nodded, dumbfounded. I was going along with his words but I didn't believe a thing he said. "There's a way he does it but I'm not sure." I nodded, going along with his game. "And you know this how?" I was tired and I was sure that I was hallucinating. No one could wake up from being brutally beaten without at least one wound but here I sat in my bed, nice and comfortable, no open or closed wounds on sight.

"He's shown me his wolf. Don't you remember last night? He's this big, red wolf with big eyes?" He offered and I was taken back. So I hadn't imagined that. I had actually lived through that and the thing standing in front of me all that time, that atrocity! On the automatic panic I felt remembering that, my body began to shake. "T-that fucking monster was Mikhail?!" I spattered angrily, clenching the sheets that had pooled around me. I shook my head, not understanding the words he was saying. "Jose, there's nothing I hate more than being lied to." I said, sighing at the fact that there was irony in my statement. "There's no way in hell that Mikhail Baranov could be that damned demon beast!" I sputtered and I watched as Jose's face contorted into one of anger. "How the hell would you know anyway!?" I set my lips into a stern line, glaring at him. There was no way that Mikhail was something that should have been a myth.

If he was, he would have told me. He would have told me before anything else. I knew everything about him, from his favorite color to the mole that sat on the crease of his back when he sat just about 90 degrees. Why wouldn't he tell me something like this?