We stood in the middle of the gym, comforting each other until others descended and we decided to get something to eat. The restaurant was pretty full, but we managed to grab a pizza on our way out. I figured we would head home, but Maddox drove the opposite direction.
“Where are we going?” I looked around, waiting to see if I could figure out his destination by my knowledge of the area.
“I’m not going to let her hang over us and distract me from my mission.” His voice sounded mischievous instead of angry.
“What mission?” My heart fluttered, anticipating where he was going with this. He smirked, knowing I knew what he would say but decided to play with me.
“Mission . . . Dandelion.”
Dandelion. If the words he admitted right before he claimed me in the garden were true, then he wished for me like I wished for him. He wanted to make sure I stayed his.
“You know I’m yours, right?” I reached over and patted his powerful thigh sweetly.
“You’re almost there. You haven’t let all your walls down yet. I’ve still got pillaging and plundering to do to win your heart forever.”
I laughed, completely unable to keep a straight face.
“You’re such a fierce Viking warrior. How can I resist?” I teased through my fit of giggles.
“I’m pretty sure you called me a Viking god last night while I ravaged your pussy.” He grinned. I did call him that, and I wanted to do it again.
Maddox pulled the truck into Seahill’s famous Agape Botanical Gardens. I loved coming here and made monthly donations to help with conservation. Phillip Griffin bought the private gardens years ago and opened it up, free to the public. People from all over the world could enjoy the beautiful landscapes and flowers.
“I love Agape,” I squealed and hopped out of the truck. Maddox grabbed the pizza and asked where I wanted to eat. We bypassed the greeter holding a map to the park for us toward my favorite spot. I knew this place by memory. While many people loved the cherry trees this time of year and the koi ponds, I loved the little bench underneath the weeping white birch tree. There was a little pond where turtles liked to swim in and names of lovers carved into the bench. I’d sat on the bench many times, dreaming up stories for all of the couples engraved in the wood. Lots of songs came out of this spot, too.
“You know what Agape means, right?” Maddox opened the box for me to pick which slice I wanted first.
“I do. It’s the highest form of love. Selfless and unconditional.” I took a bite of my pizza and watched the little fish swim around. Silence filled the space between us. I enjoyed our time in one of my favorite places instead of dissecting his motives for bringing me here.
“Hazel, I . . .” He opened his mouth, then closed it, and the box of pizza dropped to the ground as he suddenly stood.
“Oh my God.” I followed his gaze and my heart twisted from the sight.
Someone had lit the beautiful garden I loved on fire.
Chapter Thirty
Maddox
I threw my hand out, ripping the air away from the spreading fires without hurting the civilians. I scanned the gardens, looking for the firestarter and saw a black-haired man dressed in punk attire grinned and waved in our direction. He wasn’t running away like everyone else.
“Hazel.” I called out to her as she touched the ground to use her gifts to ease the burns on the plants.
She looked at me, then in the direction of the man. The ground shook. Roots tore through the ground and wrapped around the waving man, holding him hostage. I held out my hand for her to take, then used the wind to carry us over to where he stood.
Air fled from him like a bubble, and all the fire he created died with every gasp he made. Couldn’t make fire if he couldn’t breathe.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Hazel asked, and I begrudgingly allowed him enough air to speak.
“Tick tock, fuckers. The Collector wanted me to check in on you. Make sure you’re enjoying your time before the week ends.” He spoke through clenched teeth as the roots constricted him like a snake. “Ow fuck!” he cursed and I smiled at his pain.
We were having a good moment and he ruined it by setting fire to her beloved garden. I wouldn’t shed one tear if she squeezed him to death.
“This bitch is really ticking me off.”
The roots released the man only for Hazel’s hands to grip his shirt and hold him close. “I’m not going quietly, and she can fuck off. Too bad you won’t be telling her that because you’re going to be in jail.” One of her roots smacked him in the back of his head, and he passed out.
“Are you OK?’ I pulled her into my arms after she let the firestarter collapse on the ground.
“I’m angry and tired at the same time. I’m tired of being stalked like this, and I want some peace.” She squeezed me. I wanted to keep her safe from the pain that attempted to crush her spirit.
I wanted to comfort her with promises that the Collector would never claim her and she would have her peace. Only I knew I couldn’t utter those words right now, but I could vow others.
“No matter what happens, I will always find you, and I will never leave you.”
She trembled inside my embrace.
“Is there anything you can do to help the garden?” I asked, hoping her power could revive the plants. She lifted her head away from my chest to examine the damage.
“I can’t revive something that’s dead, but I can accelerate new growth.” Her hopeful voice released the tension in my tense shoulders.
“Let’s clean up what we can, while we wait for the police, then go home.” Hopefully peace would find her at her home. She could dig in the garden, write music, and rest.
The sirens echoed from the streets. We didn’t have much time without drawing much attention. We weren’t in our hero outfits, so anyone could see us use our powers. Hazel must have realized it, too, because she crouched behind a bush and dug her fingers into the ground again. Where the damaged Earth stained the garden, new growth filtered through. I watched over Hazel while she focused and made sure no one saw her. She gave me a sense of awe and hope. Our hearts were like the burnt plants, damaged but healing. We could rise and become new like the flowers blossoming despite their charred past.
The police and firefighters arrived, signaling our need to depart.
“I’ll handle this. You sneak out, and I’ll meet you in the truck.” I gave the keys to Hazel and walked toward the cops. Hazel could use one of the trees to assist her over the fence, and I had faith she’d be safe for now. The Collector wanted to torture her before propping her on the prized shelf. Maybe it was all to psych Hazel up, so she would walk willingly into the Collector’s hands, ready for it to be over. Not my goddess, Hazel didn’t lay down and die, ever.
“Hands up where we can see them!” the police shouted at me, and I followed orders.
“The firestarter is unconscious over there. Be careful, I saw him use his powers, not a lighter.” The cop closest to me understood my warning.
Once they loaded the punk in the ambulance with a police escort inside, I gave my statement, and was released to go. My phone dinged. Phillip had left me a text that he’d take care of the firestarter. Normal police weren’t equipped to handle those with powers. The Hero Society existed to protect mankind . . . sometimes from its fellow man.
Hazel meditated in the truck.
“How are you?”
“I need to chill my emotions before my powers cause chaos.” She inhaled deeply, then released it like she could expel her negative thoughts with the breath. I understood her completely. My power rattled against my control. Both of us were prisoners to our own gifts.
My phone beeped as we neared her house, and I asked Hazel to check it for me.
“Update?”
Hazel shook her head. “AJ is still looking but hasn’t found anything new.”
When we arrived home, she said, “I’m gonna take a bath, then work on lyrics for a bit.” She mustered up a s
mile and went inside.
I needed to expend some energy, too. The adrenaline running inside me needed to dissipate. Luckily, as I walked into the house, a trail of clothes leading toward Hazel’s bathroom became my very own bread crumb trail.
A naked Hazel waited for me at the end.
Chapter Thirty- One
Hazel
“Oh . . . mmm . . .” I pressed the keys on my grand piano, searching for the words in my head.
“What if he leaves, what if he stays.” I opened my eyes and jotted down the lyrics in my notebook. While we waited for AJ to gather additional intel on the Collector, I decided to enjoy rather than dread my life. I hadn’t given up, but the constant attacks and threats drained me. I rallied my spirit for the fight that awaited me.
Maddox and I had fallen into a comfortable routine with each other and I never wanted it to end. He was the ranch to my carrots, the air to my plants, and my first love transformed into my forever love. He cherished every second with me, he challenged me, and he complemented my life. Despite our differences, we’d come to a place of ease.
Each morning, we practiced my fighting skills and use of our powers together. I hated we had to wait for the Collector to come to us, but I wanted to be prepared physically to confront her. We constantly kept earplugs on us, as childish as it seemed, for protection against her power. Hell only knew if it worked, but we were desperate to tune her out.
Pushing the unnerving thoughts away, I closed my eyes and pressed the keys again. Hearing the melody my fingers created took me to another world, one where a brokenhearted girl reunited with the man she had always loved, and this time maybe he’d stay. I played the tune calling me in my head, but the words weren’t flowing.
“My back is starting to ache, and I feel like I’m getting my period soon.” I sang to the empty room. The words came from my gut, and my gut told me that Aunty Flo neared. Frustrated with the lack of words, and my pending red wave of doom, I closed up the piano to walk to the main house. Maddox was working out in the living room without a shirt when I entered, and while normally I would run my tongue over every bulging muscle, I choose a different option.
He kept on doing fancy one-handed push-ups as I trudged to the freezer and grabbed the pint of vegan strawberry ice cream. After I grabbed a spoon, I took my bounty to the couch and watched him sweat it out while I emulated a couch potato.
“You OK?” he grunted through his reps, and I shrugged.
“I feel bleh. Pretty sure my period is coming soon.”
“Do you need anything?” He switched arms and kept going. This man . . . if I knew he wouldn’t take me seriously, I would ask him to marry me.
“Lots of hugs, compliments, and ice cream.” I took another bite of ice cream and grabbed a blanket to snuggle.
“I can handle that.”
“I tried working on my next album, but the words aren’t flowing. Now I feel bleh and wanna become a slug.” I was dramatic, but my lower half ached and the world was against me right now—the Collector, my next album, my uterus.
“Why couldn’t you have put a baby in me? Then I wouldn’t have to deal with this.”
I realized what I said seconds too late. Maddox stopped his reps and held his body without any trembling in a plank position.
“Hazel—"
I apologized quickly.
“Don’t tempt a man with a feast when he is starving.” He looked at me and my nipples grew hard. God this man was so hot, I could come looking at him. I set the ice cream on the table in a flash before I lunged for him.
“I’m sorry.” I apologized over and over as I pressed hot kisses to his pecs. I wanted to promise him marriage and babies and forever. I kissed my way down to the hard-as-stone dick beneath his pants. Why couldn’t I get over my fear of him leaving, and our past? He was here now, he hasn’t left me… yet. It was the damn yet I refused to let go of.
I blew him on the living room floor while he tended to my needs, and once we were done, I changed into a pair of sweatpants and one of his shirts. We snuggled on the couch to watch a movie.
Why did forgiveness feel so hard? I needed faith. I needed to trust his word.
“I love you.” He whispered the words as he leaned down to kiss my forehead and cover my shoulder with the blanket.
The three words I wanted to tell him remained locked in my chest. I wish I had the key to release them.
“I’m going out to my tent for a bit. Yell if you need anything.” He left, and the house grew colder without him. I fell asleep dreaming of singing on stage, and every time I looked to the side where the curtains hid behind-the-scenes people, Maddox stood waiting for me.
When I woke up eager to kiss the normal smirk off his Viking face, I was greeted by the face of a nightmare and then passed out.
Chapter Thirty- Two
Maddox
Something wasn’t right.
I don’t know what, only my gut told me to run back into the house where Hazel slept. Logically, I doubted someone would come here and attack her. Still . . .
I opened the flap to my tent and came face-to-face with the barrel of a gun. A silent rage settled as the brown-haired man smiled. He thought he had me, until I snatched the gun away. His finger instinctually pulled the trigger and the bullet flew past my head. Quickly, I reached out with viper-fast speed and snapped his neck.
“Very impressive, Maddox.” The Collector stepped into view and the wind around me picked up, swirling her red hair. She laughed as the wind swayed her body in different directions. I ripped the air from her lungs.
“I’m going to enjoy watching you suffocate.”
The woman snapped her fingers, and two men appeared on the porch with an unconscious Hazel between them. I gave the Collector her air back immediately. She coughed and gasped for air while glaring at me.
“Leave her alone and I’ll let you live,” I threatened, knowing I could as long as the redheaded bitch didn’t say any other words to deter me otherwise. She coughed and gasped for air while glaring at me.
“I was contemplating keeping you, but I think I’ll just kill you instead.” I had no time to react as the Collector pulled out a gun and fired twice.
A familiar burn laced my body, and I fell to the ground.
“Let’s go. I’m tired of the game with these two. I’m collecting my prize now.” The woman snapped her fingers and they walked to two large SUVs parked farther down the driveway.
“Fuck!” I cursed as hot blood soaked my shirt. I couldn’t let them take her. I reached out with my power, struggling to find the full extent of it ready to respond. Their cars shook and trees swayed around them, but none snapped. My vision blurred, and the burning sensation in my shoulder and torso grew. Shit, shit, shit.
They drove off, and the anger in my system mixed with adrenaline. Slowly and in pure agony, I crawled to my med kit in the tent. I didn’t have everything I needed but it might be enough to stop the bleeding. I cursed with every movement and felt my consciousness waver.
I stretched in pain, reaching for my bag on top of a portable table.
“Come on. Fuck!” No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t reach it. My hands grasped the metal legs of the table, with clenched teeth, I pulled it over and the contents scattered on the ground.
My body weakened, and my sight dimmed.
I needed blood and a damn medic right now. Suddenly a bright light flashed. Was the end near? If there were such things as ghosts, I was coming back as one to haunt that bitch and protect Hazel. Not even death would keep me from her. I reached for the packaged tongs and looked away from the brightness. I needed to get the bullets out of me, then stop the bleeding.
“I think I’ll take that.” A deep voice broke through my pain-riddled brain, then a tan hand came into my view. Hands gripped my torso and flipped me over carefully. I tried to rip the air from the newcomer’s lungs, but then I saw a familiar face.
“Dorian.” I coughed and felt warm blood coat my lips. Double shit.
Dorian’s normally stoic face descended into a grimace. His brown hair and brown eyes assessed my injuries with thousands of years medical experience.
“I’m going to get the bullets out, then I’m gonna heal you with my blood. It’s gonna hurt. Nothing I can do about that.” He dug through a bag I hadn’t noticed before and pulled out a bottle of wound disinfectant. He cut my shirt off, then poured it on the wound in my shoulder and then at my hip.
“Fuck!” I wished I had something to bite into, but I’d moved the majority of my shit into Hazel’s house once we started sharing a bed. I’d done my research on Dorian, the infamous villain-turned-good-guy but I’d never met him before. He worked with the Hero Society when he wasn’t at the hospital. He twisted the tongs into the hole in my shoulder without any bedside manner. However, I didn’t need him to be nice right now. I needed him to fix me up so I could get my girl.
“One down.” He pulled out the 9mm bullet and tossed it in a dish from his medical bag. He immediately got to work on my hip and had me cursing and nearly passing out.
“Stay awake.” Dorian jerked the tongs out and the last bullet clanged into the dish. He quickly poured more disinfectant on my wounds, then on his left forearm. I could barely lift my head to watch him and my eyes fluttered.
“Drink this.” He lifted his arm to me. Red and golden liquid ran down his skin like little rivers of blood.
“What?” I mumbled. Fuck, I hated feeling this weak.
“Drink my blood. I’m the son of Apollo. My blood will heal you.” He forced his arm to my lips, and I drank the golden-laced blood for Hazel. I promised I wouldn’t leave her, and if drinking Dorian’s demigod blood helped me deliver on that promise, then I’d do it. After a couple mouthfuls, he pulled back his arm and began cleaning up.
“Why did you help me?” I whispered, unsure why he had come. Dorian packed his bags and looked me over.
“A better world and all. Griffin isn’t the only one with future sight, and I want you to survive so I’m here. Although I’m sure he would have sent me to fix you anyway if I didn’t make the decision myself.” He kneeled down, his probing gaze fixed on my wounds like he was waiting for them to close up.
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