He shook his head. “I’ve sworn a medmage oath, my lady, and I have yet to breach it. Your bloody bandages, clothes, and all such were incinerated personally by me.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“A third degree burn means that all the layers of skin are burned,” I said.

“That’s right.” Dr. Doolittle nodded. “It looks bad but it feels much worse.”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“About eleven.”

I closed my eyes.

“Our lord developed a lovely golden crust,” Doolittle’s soft voice said. “I do believe he could have gotten a part in an old-fashioned horror picture. He’s quite comfortable now, floating, I imagine.”

“Floating?”

“I prescribed the tank. It’s an oversized aquarium, filled with a certain solution yours truly developed in his youth. If His Majesty were an ordinary person, the only way to restore his epithelium would be through grafting. Since he’s not an ordinary person, he will float in the tank for a few days and then come out with new skin. His shoulder will take longer. Which reminds me.” He rose, walked to the door and stuck his head out. “Tell the Bear our guest is awake.”

He returned and rummaged through the vials on the table.

“Shoulder?” I asked.

“I gather a small piece of a ceiling had the misfortune to land on him. Crushed his left shoulder blade.”

He turned, a syringe in his hand.

“No,” I said firmly.

“The tech hit twenty minutes after I was done with you,” he said. “You’re in pain and I’m goin’ to give you an old-fashioned pain killer.”

“No, you won’t.”

“This is Demerol. It’s quite mild.”

“No. I don’t like Demerol. It makes me light-headed.” It’s not enough I was weak and in the middle of the Pack compound, now he wanted to mess with my head, too.

“Nonsense. Be a good girl and take your medicine.” He stepped forward.

“You come near me with that needle,” I said, putting as much malice into my voice as I could muster, “and I’ll shove it up your ass.”

He laughed. “Precisely the thing Jennifer said when I tried to put stitches on the cut across her buttock. Luckily for me, I don’t have to stick you with this needle.”

He showed me the empty syringe. I blinked and felt a rush of soothing cool. He must have squirted the bloody Demerol into my IV. Asshole.

I closed my eyes. I felt light-headed and tired. And I still hurt.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the room. I had a visitor and there was only one shapechanger that didn’t bother to move like an assassin.

I opened my eyes and saw Mahon nod to the good doctor and say in his deep, quiet voice, “Well done.”