Millions

by Pepper Winters

  I shivered from a sudden fear that he wouldn’t want me here. That he wouldn’t want me to see him like this even though it opened my heart to yet another level of love. Ever since he’d rescued me, I’d seen him as some immortal being who could slay anything and conquer anyone.

  To see him this...human made me tumble all the way down from puppy love to bone-deep forever love. He was stuck with me in sickness and in health—regardless if he wanted me or not.

  Breathing quietly, I made my way toward him, coming to a stop by the side of the bed.

  In the silver-pink light, everything was pure and multi-dimensional. His ebony hair scattered on the white pillow, his cheeks hollow from pain and skin pinched from fever. New bruises mottled his cheekbones while one eyebrow swelled and his jaw had turned a sickly shade of green.

  Beneath his blood stained clothes, his stomach rose and fell with breath, but concave with loss of food and energy. Even his hands weren’t safe from punishment with a finger bent abnormally and grazes on his knuckles.

  And that was just the parts of him I could see.

  What does he look like beneath his clothes?

  A cry at his pain threatened to fall from my lips, but I silenced myself. I didn’t want to wake him—revelling in the opportunity to truly study this man who was mine.

  But either his instincts were too finely tuned or he’d been faking sleep as his eyes snapped open, unfocused but severe, ready for more war.

  He groaned loudly as he tried to throw himself upright, only for every part of him to scream a loud, unequivocal no. Falling against the mattress, he grunted with agony, panting hard.

  Grabbing his hand, doing my best not to squeeze parts I shouldn’t squeeze, I rushed, “It’s me. Just me.” My heart grew to the size of a forest, full of new leaves and old, a change of season from needing to be the one protected to the one doing the protecting. “I’m here. No one else. Just us.”

  His breathing continued fast and ragged, but his eyes warmed and a gentle smile twitched his lips. “I thought you’d left me here to rot.”

  I shook my head. “No, I was told not to disturb you. That you needed rest.”

  “How long was I out? Ten minutes? Fifteen?”

  My eyes widened, studying him for a prank. Did he honestly believe it’d only been that long? Glancing over my shoulder at the rapidly pinking sky, I said, “It’s almost a new day, El. You’ve slept six hours.”

  “What?” He launched himself up, unsuccessful and crying out with a few growled curse words as the bed once again claimed him. “Goddammit, why didn’t Selix get me out of here? I don’t want to sleep in my enemy’s house. No fucking way.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. It was almost word perfect to the prediction I’d given Tess. “I thought you might say that.”

  “And what did you think my reaction would be when I woke up to find I’d wasted almost an entire evening here?”

  “I thought you’d be angry and suspicious and not able to relax for a second.”

  He huffed. “If you can guess my moods and pre-empt my needs, then why the hell are we still here and not on the Phantom?”

  Tess’s advice swam in my head. If you make it sound like staying here benefits you...he won’t argue. Wasn’t that emotional manipulation? Wasn’t that unethical between two people who supposedly trusted each other? I’d been lied to and controlled for too long to do it with Elder. The truth was the only way.

  Straightening my back, I whispered in the dark silence, “I accepted their offer of staying for a little while.”

  His face turned red with unchecked frustration. “You did what? Why? We don’t need them, Pimlico. That asshole shot me. I don’t want to spend any more time than necess—”

  “You need rest, Elder.” Not letting his temper affect me, I remained calm and quiet. “You’re hurt. I can’t imagine Michaels advised a punch up so soon after being shot and beaten. You aren’t capable of going anywhere without it being detrimental to your health. Your finger needs attending to. Your ankle. Your arm. Not to mention all the other parts of you I can’t see beneath the covers.” I tugged at the sheet around his chest. “What other injuries are you hiding? Can’t you admit for once that putting your health first is the best thing for everyone?”

  He clutched the sheet, holding it tight and refusing to let me see. His eyes blazed, burying me beneath tension and guilt. “I want to be back on the Phantom, Pim. You know how I feel about being on land.”

  I sighed, doing my best not to give in to his wishes. “I know. I get that. But would one night truly hurt?”

  “One night? We’ve already endured one night here.” He glowered. “That’s enough.” Tearing his gaze from mine, he looked at the door. “Go find Selix and tell him it’s time to leave.”

  Leave?

  God, I suck at this.

  He couldn’t leave. He could barely sit up. I couldn’t let whatever fever stalked him and whatever wounds drained him to make him worse.

  I’d tried the truth, and it hadn’t worked with this pig-headed specimen of a man.

  It was time to try a little white lie...for his benefit.

  Twirling my fingers into the sheet, I allowed some of my shame and guilt to show. “Did you know Tess was sold to Q...before they were married?” I didn’t wait for Elder to answer—it was purely a rhetorical question, leading into my attempt at misdirection and trickery. “Her past is fascinating, and having another woman who knows what it’s like to be captured and sold, a woman similar in age and ideals...” I looked up beneath brown bangs. “I’m not ready to go yet. I have things I need to ask her.”

  He froze, searching my face. “Things like what?”

  I inhaled, doing my best to think on my feet. Luckily, I didn’t have to lie on this point. “Like talking through the parts of what happened to me with another woman.”

  “Why can’t you talk about it with me?” His forehead furrowed, hurt glistening in his eyes.

  Grabbing his hand again, I smiled. “I can, and I have. You know more about me than you probably should, and I wish I could stop bringing him up. Especially because what he did to me has no control or place in our future.”

  “Then...let’s go home.” His hand turned in mine, twisting to capture my wrist, his fingers searching for my pulse as if reaffirming to himself I was alive, he was alive, therefore we should be anywhere but here.

  “We will. Just...one more day.” I threw everything I could into my implore. “The moment I’m away from Tess, who knows if I’ll ever find someone who has such similar trials in her past. You rescued my body and soul, El, and I’m almost whole thanks to you, but I think she might be the final piece I need to fix my mind.”

  He slouched into the pillows, half of his face in shadow with disagreement and the other in dawn with understanding. The two battled for domination, one choice meaning he gave me what I wanted at the expense of what he preferred, and the other making me leave after I’d explicitly asked—for the first time in my life—for his agreement. A simple request to stay another night so we both might heal a little more.

  Before we’re at the mercy of the Chinmoku again.

  Endless seconds ticked past while he bit his bottom lip, deliberating. The harsh lines around his eyes spoke of unwillingness to give in, but his silence hinted that he didn’t want to bark commands or order me to obey.

  Finally, his face melted into glowing affection, ripping the air right from my lungs with how beautiful he was. “You are your own person, Pim. If you want to stay, then I won’t stop you. If anything, it will be my honour to stand beside you.” With gravel and caramel, he added gently, “In fact, you’ve just given me something I didn’t think would happen for a very long time...if at all.”

  Cupping my cheek, he brought me closer until his lips brushed mine. “After two years of distrusting, you’re finally learning that not all humans are evil. In a way, I’m jealous. I’ll no longer have your undivided attention; I won’t be the only one you want to be cl
ose to—”

  “It’s not about that. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I—”

  “I know, and you didn’t.” He cut me off. “You didn’t let me finish.” Smiling, he kissed me bittersweet. “What I was about to say was, I’m so damn proud of you. Of how strong you are. How fearless. I think I just fell even more in love with you, and I honestly thought I’d fallen all the way. I love you, Pim. So fucking much.”

  I gasped.

  My heart scurried, hating itself for lying when Elder just gave me something so unbearably precious. His praise wasn’t justified even if I did want to talk to Tess. His honour and pride misplaced even if I did see humans as individuals now rather than as one mass of devil-incarnate.

  If I had the choice of returning to the Phantom with him with no injuries or sickness and never see Tess again, I would leap at the chance. But his circumstances meant I got a chance to seek female companionship, and after that initial craving in Monte Carlo—thanks to the fresh-faced, sweetheart Simone—I wanted to know what it would feel like to tell a girl secrets and have them get it.

  I was selfish.

  Really, I should find the courage to discuss the awful, awful things my body had endured with Elder.

  But does he truly want to know?

  In his eyes, I’d been a broken, weak little thing, but now I was strong and unbruised. If I told him what remained festering in my heart, I might tarnish his pride and turn it into something that could push him away from me. It could stop him from sleeping with me or prevent him from believing I could handle his desires.

  No. I can’t risk anything ruining what we have.

  I didn’t know the answers to what I should and shouldn’t do. I didn’t know how to reconcile lying when really my lie was wrapped up with truth.

  Guilt ate me alive as Elder caressed my cheek then twined his fingers into my hair, tugging with a hint of aggression. “You’ve gone quiet on me, little mouse.”

  I closed my eyes, falling into him, kissing him hard. “I love you, too. So much.”

  Chuckling beneath my lips, he groaned. “I love hearing you say that. Say it again.”

  Another kiss. “I love you, Elder Prest.” And another.

  His groan turned to a growl. “Okay, we’ll stay. One more night. Now kiss me again and make me forget where I am.”

  Chapter Eleven

  ______________________________

  Elder

  KISSING PIMLICO MADE energy drench my bruised and bellowing limbs.

  Her touch made me think I could easily climb from this godforsaken bed and carry her out of here. Her taste made me believe I was cured. Her mews and moans made sex infinitely more appealing than returning to the Phantom so fast.

  Why leave yet?

  We had a bed and privacy.

  I intend to put it to use.

  The longer we kissed, the more I sank into the pillows and yanked her closer.

  I needed her. I wanted her. My pain vanished under the weight of it.

  Placing her on top of me, I hissed between my teeth as blades of agony knocked on my skull—hinting that the pain might not have vanished, after all.

  Her hands pressed against my chest, bruising cracked ribs, arguing against my insistence at having her close.

  Her mouth danced with mine but with hesitation.

  I breathed harder, arching my hips into hers to show her exactly what I wanted and to stop denying me.

  But then, the spinning returned. That damn fucking spinning that sent me under last time. The hypnotic black and white spiral, stealing gravity and my innards and hurling them around and around in a washing machine of sickness.

  Kisses turned from miraculous healing to energy draining. Fighting her switched from adventurous to exhausting.

  Spinning, spinning, spinning.

  One moment, I was kissing her.

  The next...I was not.

  Chapter Twelve

  ______________________________

  Pimlico

  HAVING ELDER PASS out mid-kiss affected not just my worry for him but also my ego—some superficial part of me that believed my presence would be enough to cure him slapped back to reality and given a stern talking-to.

  A kiss would not heal him.

  Only a doctor could.

  Tess had been right.

  Rest had done him a world of good. But now, his injuries needed tending to and food needed to be consumed. And the only way to do that was to enlist the experts.

  Leaving Elder unconscious once again, I waited until dawn switched to acceptable morning politeness and padded downstairs to the kitchen.

  There, I found Q dressed in a striking blue suit with graphite shirt and maroon tie, laughing with a plump lady who I assumed was the cook. Their French quips and inside jokes stopped the moment I intruded. His face lost the ease of conversing with family and slipped into a polite mask of helpfulness. “Bonjour, Pimlico. Comment allez-vous?”

  I knew enough basic one-liners to understand he’d asked how I was. I nodded with a mirroring smile. “I’m fine.” I would’ve much rather bumped into Tess to tell her what I needed rather than her husband, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  Taking a deep breath, I asked, “Do you mind calling a doctor? Or radioing the Phantom and asking Dr. Michaels to come? Elder is unconscious again, and I think he needs better care than what I can provide.”

  Immediately, he put down his coffee and reached into his blazer breast pocket for his cell phone. “Of course. I’ll call my personal physician immediately.” Kissing the cook on her two flour-dusted round cheeks, he murmured something in French then passed me while pressing digits on his phone. “He’ll be here in thirty minutes. Wait upstairs. I’ll send him to you.”

  He didn’t even wait for my thanks.

  A whirlwind of efficiency, he was out the door and onto whatever vigilante endeavours or business dealings he favoured.

  * * * * *

  The day passed in yet another blur.

  Q’s doctor arrived and briskly stripped Elder down. He assessed his bruises, bumps, and

  breaks, reset his bent finger, checked the strappings on his chest, noted his fever, then turned his attention to the stitches in Elder’s gunshot wound.

  I kept a hand clamped over my lips as the doctor washed out the wound and re-stitched two areas that’d come undone.

  I could handle my own broken bones and gushing blood. But seeing Elder’s...it hurt because I didn’t want him to be in pain. I wanted to take it away, and I couldn’t.

  All I could do was hope and wait and beg him to be okay.

  Once tended and tutted over, the doctor cleaned Elder’s injuries with antibacterial gel and secured yet another bandage over his stitches to keep the skin supple enough to knit together without forming too proud a scar.

  I hated that Elder didn’t wake up while the doctor fussed and fixed. His eyelids didn’t twitch, his body didn’t jolt even when an IV needle was inserted into the back of his hand to deliver a drip full of antibiotics and glucose.

  According to the doctor, Elder’s zombieness was fairly common for someone who’d depleted themselves to the level he had.

  Six hours of sleep for a healthy person meant they’d be ready for a brand-new day.

  Six hours of sleep for a sick person meant nothing. His resting would be entirely reliant on how quickly he healed and how fast his body fought his fever.

  The doctor’s final task was checking Elder hadn’t torn the tendon off his ankle bone and re-securing the leg brace.

  Before he left, he reeled off warnings and caveats, telling me with harsh command that although Elder wouldn’t die and most likely wouldn’t suffer long-term ill effects, it was his medical recommendation that he go straight to a hospital when he woke and arrange X-rays on his ankle and a cat scan for his shoulder to pick up any areas that might cause future damage.

  I nodded and agreed, shooing the doctor out, knowing exactly what Elder would say to those suggestions.


  No fucking way...or something to that end.

  I smiled, loving the sensation of knowing Elder enough to hopefully predict what he might do. If I could predict, I could challenge. And if I could challenge, I might even win a few skirmishes.

  Today, though, I’d won the war on getting him to stay and was in charge of the invoice the doctor had assured would be sent by the end of the week.

  I had responsibility.

  People looked at me and listened to my instruction and believed I was normal enough to do things like pay bills and look after loved ones. That I had possessions like bank accounts and credit cards. That I hadn’t been a prisoner for two years and my entire future hinged on the man passed out with blood staining the sheets beneath him.

  I was his guardian angel now, and I wouldn’t rest until he was healed.

  * * * * *

  I lost track of time.

  I didn’t care if it was morning or evening, day or night.

  Suzette brought food in at random intervals, I helped a groggy Elder somehow crawl from the bed to the bathroom before passing out again, and Tess popped by to see how the invalid was doing. We chatted a little, but the exhaustion that clutched Elder had finally found me, and I dozed beside him with my knees pressed against his thigh and my arm thrown lightly over his chest.

  I knew I probably shouldn’t touch him in case I hurt him, but I needed to touch him. I needed to sleep with his heat and bulk in my arms; otherwise, nightmares of him being shot and falling overboard tortured me on repeat.

  Again and again, I heard the boom and splash. Smelled the sulphur and salt.

  I clutched Elder harder.

  * * * * *

  Sometime later—who knew exactly how much later—while the sky inked black and the house hushed quiet, Elder finally mumbled something and flinched.

  I shot upright, blinking away sleep, begging him to open his eyes. He’d woken a few times before—sometimes for a bathroom break and others while still in a dream—but each time, he’d not quite returned to me.