“Good heavens.”
“It would,” Garrett said, his mind replaying Beep’s disappearance over and over. “But I just don’t think so.”
The doctor came in, always the professional, and ignored their conversation. She changed his IV bag, then checked his vitals. “He gonna live?” Eric asked.
She grinned, a strand of her dark red hair falling from her hair clip when she nodded. “’Fraid so.” She held up a tiny flashlight and checked Garrett’s pupils. “I put something in your IV. I think it will help you heal a little faster.”
“That’s great, but how about a snow cone?”
“Oh!” Cookie said, jumping up. “We just got a shaved ice machine. You know, for those of us who get a little hotter than others.”
The doctor laughed. “Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s what he meant.”
Impressed, Garrett asked, “You knew what I meant?”
“Of course. And snow cones are illegal. No coca-laced Mary Jane here.” She pulled out a syringe and held it up so he could see it. “But I have something pretty close.”
He laid his head back. “Thank you, sweet baby Jesus. Wait,” he said, right before she stuck it in his IV tube. “Will this knock me out?”
“When we have a nine-foot, feral creature with claws the size of Kansas running all over the world? No way. We need you up and at ‘em.”
He chuckled softly then moaned. “Thanks, doc.”
Marika couldn’t help but notice how pretty the young doctor was. She had known they had one on staff, but she had never met her. She dropped her gaze and spotted a towel they’d missed underneath his bed. It was soaked in dark blood.
Irritation spiked within her. “Shouldn’t he be in a hospital?” she asked, her voice as sharp as a scalpel.
The doctor sobered, but Robert spoke before she could. “Dr. Mirabal’s the best, sweetheart. She has access to things other doctors…well, don’t.”
“Of course.” Everyone in the room seemed to trust her implicitly. Especially Eric, who couldn’t take his eyes off her. “I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise.”
“It’s okay,” the woman said before offering Marika a reassuring smile. “I know how much he means to you.”
That statement caught her off guard, and she felt heat rising to her cheeks.
The doctor looked back at Garrett, her expression changing to one that brooked no argument. “I need to check that back every couple of hours,” she said to Garrett. “I mean it this time.”
This time?
“But your ribs are healing nicely. You should be able to walk in a few—”
“Now?” Garrett asked, interrupting. “I should be able to walk now?”
She pursed her lips in admonition. “It’ll be a big risk.”
“It’ll be a bigger one if I don’t.”
“Since you put it that way…” She started to leave but turned back to him. “Just so you know, I had to sedate Mrs. Loehr. Poor thing. She’s beside herself with worry.”
Marika recognized the look of guilt that flashed across Garrett’s face. A face that should have been swollen and bruised, but was healing at an alarming rate. She wondered what the doctor had meant when she said that she’d given him something to help him heal faster. How was that even possible?
The doctor left, the bikers went to grab something to eat, and Robert led Cookie into the hall, ordering her to get to bed. He was certainly the only one who could order that woman around.
“Wait, it got dark?” Garrett looked at Robert when he walked back in.
“I’m sorry?”
“You said it got dark and you had to stop searching.”
“Yes.”
“Fuck. How long have I been out?”
The muscles in Robert’s jaw jumped before he gave a reluctant reply. “You aren’t going to like it.”
“You’re going to like it even less if you don’t answer.”
Unphased, Robert said softly, “Almost twenty hours. It’ll be light again soon.”
Garrett shot up and then doubled over as pain gripped him. Marika rushed to his side, feeling helpless. She didn’t like feeling helpless.
She pushed at his shoulders. “You have to rest.”
“Marika, whatever cocktail the doc gave me wouldn’t allow me to rest even if I wanted to.”
“What?” She felt her lids round. “What exactly did she give you?”
“Who knows? That woman is gifted.”
“Gifted or not,” Robert said, “you still need to eat before we head out.”
“Head out?” Marika asked.
“I’ll grab us something.”
“You can’t head out.”
“Thanks,” Garrett said, completely ignoring her.
“You’re injured.”
“I need a shower, too.”
“You need a lobotomy. You almost died.”
“Mrs. Loehr brought some of your things.” Robert pointed to an overnight bag underneath the sofa Marika had been sleeping on.
She must’ve slept through the woman’s visit. She adored Mrs. Loehr. And Mr. Loehr, for that matter.
“You got this?” Robert asked Marika.
“I’ve never done a lobotomy.”
Garrett swung his legs over the side, his muscles tense, his breathing labored.
She released a long, drawn-out sigh. “I suppose.”
“Back in five.”
After Robert left, Garrett draped an arm around her shoulders, and she helped him to his feet. “This is such a bad idea.”
“So was yellow dye number five, yet here we are. Sit me back on the bed for a minute.”
She did, almost dropping him in the process. He grabbed the rail with a shaking hand and then stabbed her with a glare. A glare! After everything she’d done.
“What?” she asked, exhausted and fed up with his attitude.
“Why did you risk your life for me? I told you to run.”
He was angry with her? Now? She planted her fists on her hips, only now realizing that her clothes were a mess. “You may be the head of this security team, but I don’t work for you. Remember?”
He leaned closer to her. “I told you to fucking run.”
“And the day you’re authorized to tell me what to do, I’ll listen. Are you going to shower or not? I need to message my mother.”
“Why didn’t you run?”
“You needed my help.”
“Bullshit.”
“Apparently, you hit your head harder than I thought. I saved your life, if you’ll recall.”
“And risked yours in the process.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Zaire needs you.”
“No,” she said, trying not to let the sudden rush of sadness infuse her voice. “You’re stronger than I am. He needs to learn how to fight. How to survive. My mother can teach him the magics he’ll need. But only you can teach him to fight.”
“Ah, so you have it all figured out.”
She reached an arm around his waist again, encouraging him to stand. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Garrett, what do you think drives my every heartbeat? My every waking moment? Our son.” She conveniently left out the part about Garrett himself. Some things were better left unsaid. “He is all that matters. Him and Elwyn and Osh’ekiel. Zaire will have a much better chance of survival if you…are in his life. If you raise him.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You act like you’re not going to be around.”
“I’m just saying. If something were to happen to me…”
“Like what?”
“Fine.” She stepped away from him. “I’ll shower first. I have no idea what’s in my hair, but it’s horribly unpleasant.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your hair.” He raised a hand and brushed his fingers softly along her cheek and jaw. “When did that happen, exactly?”
“I don’t remember.” She pushed his hand away. “And why do you do that?�
��
“Do what?”
“One minute, you’re ice-cold. And the next, you’re blisteringly hot and practically hitting on me. It’s not fair.” She reached around him again to hoist him up, being careful of his back, which she had yet to see. “I’m putting a moratorium on flirting. And,” she added with a warming scowl, “marriage proposals.”
“I’m never ice-cold.”
“Please. I have the frostbite to prove it.”
He rose to his feet again amid several grunts and groans. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you aren’t. Are you good here?” They’d hobbled into a walk-in shower, complete with safety bars and a non-slip floor.
“No. I need help with my bandages.”
“Oh, right.” She untied the gown and slid it off him.
Ignoring his flirtations was one thing, but ignoring his ass was quite another. He had an athlete’s ass. The kind that caught girls off guard as he strolled by. She should know. Her gaze slid to the bandages, covered in streaks of dried blood. “Are you sure it’s okay to shower?”
“The doc would’ve said something if not.”
“Right.” The doc. Jealousy was so beneath her. And yet…
One giant piece of gauze covered his entire back. Marika peeled the tape around the edges slowly to the sound of his hisses and sharp intakes of breath. Served him right.
At one particularly sensitive area, he reached back and wrapped a large hand around her hip. Then he squeezed. She didn’t know if it helped him or not, but it certainly helped her. He’d done that so often when they were together, his strong hands on her hips. Her thighs. Her breasts. The sensation flooded her body with memories. Unwanted ones.
Even if he did learn to care for her again, it would do either of them any good. She didn’t have enough time. Unless she ended up in the twelve percent success rate. Twelve percent. The odds were certainly not in her favor.
She slowly peeled the gauze away from his back. Some of it stuck and had to be plied with the gentlest pressure she could manage, but he seemed to be doing better with each passing second. She, however, was not.
The bandage fell away, and so did the floor from beneath her feet.
Chapter Seven
Courage is knowing it might hurt and doing it anyway.
Stupidity is the same, and that’s why life is hard.
—Meme
“Hold on there!” Robert’s voice drifted toward Marika from far away.
He rushed into the bathroom, and he and the now-naked Garrett Swopes steadied her. Somehow, she’d ended up molded against Garrett’s front side. Like his torso. And other things. Other gorgeously formed things.
“Fucking hell, Swopes,” Robert said. He’d seen his back as well. “I might just pass out, too.”
“Really?” Garrett grinned. “How bad is it? I feel like I’m due a few battle scars.”
“You damned sure got them.”
“How can you laugh?” Marika asked, unable to stop the inane welling of tears between her lashes.
“Hey.” Garrett lifted her chin until she stood gazing up into that silvery gray that had become her favorite color in the world. “I’m alive, right? We’re both alive. And next time I meet that thing, I’ll be better prepared.”
She nodded but couldn’t get any words past the lump in her throat.
“I would kiss you, but there’s an ex-angel in the shower with us.”
“Right. Sorry,” Robert said. He looked at Marika. “You weren’t kidding about those claws.”
She hadn’t been. Garrett had four jagged lacerations spanning the distance between his upper right shoulder and left hip, but they were far enough apart to cover the majority of his powerful back. Some areas were wider than others, the flesh left open like ripped paper.
“No stitches?” she said at last.
“The doc said they really aren’t deep enough to worry about it,” Robert said. “Because the wounds are so jagged, she’d have to go in and cut perfectly good flesh away in order to stitch them up.”
“And with the cocktails she’s created,” Garrett added, trying to see his back in the mirror yet not letting her go, “these will heal in no time.”
“How is that possible?” she asked.
He looked down and winked at her. “We have a secret weapon.”
He pulled her closer, and damned if she didn’t let him. So much for her moratorium.
“Anyway,” Robert said, interrupting, “I brought you both something to eat, and Cookie found some fresh clothes, too. If you want to change, Marika. Get dressed quickly, though. We head out in twenty.”
“You know,” Garrett said after Robert left, “we could shower at the same time.”
She stepped out of his arms. “You aren’t taking my wishes seriously at all.”
“Sure, I am.” He turned the shower on. “What wishes would those be?”
But she had moved on. They were heading out in twenty minutes. Going after that thing. Fear clawed at her throat and tore at her resolve.
“Garrett,” she said, lost in the image of the creature coming at them.
“Hmm?”
She fought the urge to watch the water cascade over his immaculate shoulders. “There is something I’ve been wondering since we first saw the creature.”
Garrett looked down at her, at her fragile exterior, so pale and ethereal, and realized he really, really, really wanted her in the shower with him. That cocktail the doc had cooked up was working wonders.
“What the bloody hell did it eat for breakfast to get that size?” he teased, but her worried expression sobered him.
She put a hand on his arm despite the water and said, “Where did all the blood come from?”
Garrett fought the wave of dread the image evoked. He’d wondered that exact same thing.
He washed like the place was on fire so Marika would have a chance at the shower. Little minx closed the door, blocking his view. What the hell? She was in and out almost as quickly as he’d been, and when she opened the door, the scent that hit him almost dropped him to his knees.
She stood there, wrapped in a towel, drying her hair. That familiar vanilla and beach scent washed over him. As if it radiated out of her. He quickly pulled on his jeans to help hide the evidence of what the woman did to him. Even he had to wonder at his ridiculous behavior. It’d been almost five years since he caught her in the arms of another man. And dolt that he was, he’d gone to her house to propose. He’d sworn right then and there that he’d never sample that particular piece of succulent fruit again.
She looked through the clothes Robert had brought. “How do you know so much about their world when you’ve never fully experienced it?”
“Research. I’ve been scouring ancient texts for years. And I’m getting pretty good at reading Latin. Just don’t ask me to pronounce anything.”
She stood and gazed at him with, dared he say, a look of adoration. But she sobered quickly, as though he’d caught her with her hand in the cookie jar, and looked away to rifle through the clothes again.
“It takes me months to get through the simplest text, so don’t think too highly of me.”
“Oh, I would never.”
He caught her biting her lower lip before she gave up and took the entire bag into the bathroom.
“I’m just going to take my sandwich with me. They’re leaving in five. I’ll call you as soon as I know more.”
The door burst open and slammed against the opposite wall. “What?” She stood in her bra and panties, a jaw-dropping set with a mix of pink polka-dotted satin and black lace.
He hesitated a solid minute then held the sandwich out to her, a turkey with green chile and swiss on a hoagie bun that’d had his mouth watering before she showed up. Now, his mouth watered for an entirely different reason. “Did you want this one?”
“You are not leaving without me.”
“What?” He frowned at her, genuinely confused.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“I most certainly am not.” She jerked a loose T-shirt over her head so hard, he heard it rip. She didn’t seem to care. She picked up the jeans Robert had brought and hopped into them.
He watched with voyeuristic fascination as they slid over her slim hips and shapely ass, before snapping back to attention. “Marika, you’re not going back out there.”
She straightened in a huff, her eyes flashing like laser beams. “You brought me into this game at the bottom of the ninth. You are not benching me now.”
“Sports metaphors? I figured those were beneath you.”
“And I figured dumpster diving was beneath you, but it’s the only way to explain your wardrobe.”
He chuckled, still not entirely convinced of her dedication to the cause. His wardrobe was excellent. “No, really. You can’t go. You’re not going. No fucking way, no fucking how.”
Ten minutes later, they were eating their sandwiches in the back of Robert’s SUV. She’d tricked him. It was the vomit powder. It had to be. She could now control him with her mind.
“What’s the plan?” he asked, ignoring his sandwich. The same one he’d drooled over earlier. Instead, he checked his weapon for the third time before holstering it then checking the safety on his assault rifle.
“Wait,” Marika said. “Slow down.”
They were headed across the rugged terrain near Diablo Canyon. Donovan sat in the passenger’s side, and Garrett and Marika sat in the back.
She rewrapped her sandwich and rolled down her window. “Do you hear that?”
Robert nodded. “Howling. Is it the creature?”
Eric and Michael were behind them on their bikes. As soon as they got close, their motors drowned out the sound. Apparently. Garrett had never heard anything in the first place.
She jumped out of the still-moving vehicle, and Robert slammed on the brakes. Garrett watched as she ran to the guys on the motorcycles and gestured for them to cut their engines. Robert did the same with the SUV.
They stepped out and listened. Nothing at first, then…
“How the hell did you hear that?”
“Is it the creature?” Robert repeated.
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