Deja Who by MaryJanice Davidson Page B

anyway:
“What?”
    â€œI did have cause,” she reminded him.
    Archer was so outraged he could only gape at her for several seconds while the doctor cleared away the mess—they were short of nurses at Northwestern Memorial, and it was makingeveryone grumpy. Finally, he managed, “Right, I forgot, she’s an Insighter, so she gets a pass on felony assault because
bogus.
”
    The doc nodded. “She does if you killed her before.”
    He was wrong, but Leah said nothing. Sometimes it was better to let people keep believing the myths. In fact, she could file a complaint about the stalking, but couldn’t have him prosecuted for anything he might have done to her in a former life.
    â€œFirst of all, I didn’t kill her before. I’ve never killed anybody in any life. Second, our judicial system,” Archer announced to the room, “needs work.” He thought of his father for a moment, and the uncle his father was in prison for killing, and shivered.
    â€œOn that we agree.” Insighters were rare, like physics geniuses, and like physics geniuses, they were treated with a combination of awe and impatience, and sometimes bone-deep dread. People needed them and resented needing them. They could do things most could not, and their talents weren’t quantifiable or controllable. It made for uneasy symbiosis. The Traynor bill, which had been plodding through Congress for years, did nothing to clarify matters. It had made things murkier, and even Leah didn’t think Insighters should get away with some of the things they got away with. “I won’t press charges. You have been punished enough.”
    â€œGot
that
right.”
    â€œBut when you get out of here, we are going to see It. Also, you will need a new job because you will not be spying on me any longer. Tell It to hire someone else.”
    â€œGot
that
right.” He paused. “Are you calling your mom It?”
    She ignored him. “Dr. Drange, are you admitting him?”
    â€œIt’s Derange,” the doc, whose ID badge was smeared with blood corrected, and what an unfortunate name for a physician.He was scribbling in Archer’s chart. “Overnight at least, yeah. Couple of stab wounds would normally warrant a longer stay, but they’re pretty shallow. Messy, but not dangerous.”
    â€œWhat do you know about my stab wounds? You’re a future veterinarian! I happen to think they’re messy
and
dangerous.”
    â€œI think,” Derange added, raising a blond brow at her, “your heart wasn’t in it.”
    â€œShows what
you
know.” Archer was out of his foaming rage and entering Sulk Mode.
    It did, actually. My heart wasn’t in it. Well, the second time.
    â€œI said I was sorry,” she said when they were alone.
    â€œYou apologized for one grotesque wound, not both.”
    â€œAs I am certain,” she continued, “you are sorry for spying on me and scaring me.”
    â€œ
Scaring
you? No way in hell. An IRS audit wouldn’t scare you. Goddamned Typhoid Mary wouldn’t scare you.” Since Leah had met Mary Mallon just last year, he was correct. “You don’t scare.” A half-second pause, followed by, “Okay, sorryIscaredyoubutyoudidn’thavetostabmetwice.”
    â€œYou’re right.” She thought for a few seconds.
Am I really going to do this? Yes. I am.
“Can I get you anything?”
    He blinked those dazzling eyes at her. “What?”
    â€œYou say ‘what’ a lot. Magazines? Gum? A cigar? Do you want me to call anyone?”
    â€œ. . . no.”
    He doesn’t have anyone. Like me.
The thought brought another unwitting smile to her lips.
    â€œWhy are you looking at me like that with your sexy shark eyes?”
    â€œI . . .”
Because I can’t see you, and I would like to.
“I apologize.”
    â€œI’ll tell you what I’d like.” He