I headed back to my office, but halfway there I had to stop at the restroom. My leg was acting up, and I felt I would collapse if I walked any longer. I spent a few minutes just sitting around, trying to massage out the pain. Finally I got up, though I felt so tired that I could have slept right then and there, sitting on the toilet. It wasn't only physical exhaustion; my emotions were all over the place too.

I limped to the sink and splashed my face with some cold water. I saw in the mirror how horrible I looked; my eyes were blood-shot, with dark circles under them. Had I been always this thin? I had always been conscious of my looks, and I knew I hadn't looked too bad yesterday when I was with Vivienne . . . but now I appeared to be at least ten years older than I was.

"Do you regret it?"

"Fuck!" I jerked in fright, caught a flash of white in the mirror, and whirled around. Della was leaning against one of the stalls, watching me with a solemn expression.

"Fuck, Della, don't do that again!" I took a quick glance around, my heart racing. "This is the men's room, for fuck's sake! What if someone saw you?"

"Do you regret saving me?" Della asked, ignoring my question. She straightened, then walked towards me, scrutinizing my face.

"We've already talked about this," I said, breaking eye contact. "I don't regret it."

"Liar."

"Della, this isn't the time to talk about this. You—"

"I see it in your eyes, see it every time your knee is in pain." She stopped in front of me, just within arm's reach. "If only I didn't rescue her, you tell yourself. If only I had it in me to ignore her pleas, to abandon her . . . then I wouldn't have become a cripple."

"I'm not a cripple."

"You are no longer an elite soldier, just a teacher in the middle of nowhere, training monsters. For you, that's the same thing as being a cripple."

I clenched my jaw in anger, and forced myself to look back at her. "Would you get to the point already? What do you want?"

"Oh, sweetheart," she whispered, stepping closer. "You know what I—"

I slapped her reaching hand away. "Don't touch me," I growled. "Don't you dare to touch me."

The disappointed look on her face just annoyed me even more. No frustration. No anger. Just disappointment.

"Okay," she said. "Okay. I see you're not quite ready for me . . . yet."

I closed my eyes and massaged my temples, praying for calm and patience. Della being tactless was nothing new. I could let it go. I just needed to conclude this little meeting quick—the last thing I needed was someone catching me here with her.

"Actually, I was trying to find you," I said slowly. I peered at her from the corner of my eyes; she already had a wide smile on her face. "It's not what you think. There's— You know. Yet another incident when a Vessel and a Merger couldn't separate. They were— They are good kids. Sonja and Liam. I have to get back to the office soon, so . . . could you take care of them, please? They are sedated, lying on a stretcher in the storehouse . . . they must be terribly bewildered."

Della nodded several times. "Sure thing."

"Thanks," I sighed, rubbing my hand tiredly over my face. "I don't know how long I can keep this up. The security is lax, but Adam is sniffing around. If he hears about today's accident..." I shuddered. "I should be off before he gets even more suspicious."

"Okay," Della said. "See you tonight?"

"I don't know," I said, limping out of the restroom without looking back.