“Are you from India?”
“No, but my grandfather was. Now explain, please, what you were doing to my patient.”
She glanced at Zavier, so deathly pale on the bed. If she had to guess, she’d say he was only in his twenties, but he looked older with his skin so sickly pale and nearly translucent. It pained her to see someone who should have been in his prime looking that way.
She couldn’t think how to explain away the smell of magic in the room, so she told Dr. Ziga the truth, well, part of it. “You were wrong about my brain.”
“Was I?” Dr. Ziga didn’t sound at all surprised. She turned toward him again so she could watch his face.
Excerpt from Foundling, Curse of the Hybrids Book 2
