Gate

by Ava Benton

  I could rule the world with a woman like her by my side, even if it was a world in which only the two of us lived. The dragon glowed with satisfaction.

  Until she stumbled and fell to her knees, and I realized the blood soaking through her dirty tank top was partly hers.

  I shifted back, running to her, taking her in my arms and lifting her from the glass-littered floor.

  “Gate?” she whispered, eyes a little glazed as she looked up at me.

  “Martina. My God. You’re injured.” I brushed the hair from her face with fingers already stained with her blood.

  “My pockets… syringes…” she whispered. “I… killed a lot of people back there…” Her eyes slid closed, but she was still breathing. I looked around wildly, panicked.

  Miles shifted, too, coming to meet me. “Oh, no. What’s she doing here?”

  “Saving our asses,” I announced. “She said the syringes are in her pockets.”

  He went through them and pulled out several handfuls, dropping them into a metal pan.

  “You know what to do.”

  He nodded, running off to inoculate the rest of the clan.

  I carried her to the cell where my mother waited and laid her on the cot which had been mine. There were still several syringes in the pockets—I used one of them to treat Mother.

  “It should only take a minute or two,” I explained, then turned my attention back to Martina.

  Lifting her top gave me a look at her wounded abdomen. There was no exit wound in her back. She moaned in pain when I moved her, seizing my heart in a death grip.

  “I’m sorry, darling, I’m sorry,” I crooned, setting her back in place as carefully as I could.

  I heard the iron screeching in protest before snapping behind me, then my mother sank to her knees beside me.

  “Oh, poor lamb,” she murmured. “Poor thing.”

  “We have to help her.” I looked at her, nearly shaking in my frenzy. “We have to.”

  “I’ll see what can be done.” She rose and washed her hands at the sink.

  I heard more shattering outside, more breaking and roaring and the sound of heavy feet as my clan freed itself and took care of any remaining enemies—if the screams of pain and terror meant what I thought they meant.

  “I need tools, son. Something to remove the bullet.”

  “I’ll find them.”

  They had to be around, somewhere. This was practically a medical lab. I ran down the corridor, looking in every open doorway and breaking down the doors still closed.

  Finally, I found a supply closet and loaded a caddy with probes, saline, gauze, anything which looked even vaguely reasonable before sprinting back to the cell.

  Martina’s eyes were open again, and she seemed more coherent than she’d been earlier.

  I almost regretted it; she would feel the pain if she were conscious.

  Mother took the tools while I knelt by the cot, taking Martina’s hand.

  “Why did you do this?” I whispered, smoothing her sweaty hair back from her forehead. “Why would you take a chance like this?”

  “I don’t know,” she breathed. “I always wanted to kill somebody, and it was boring on the boat.”

  “Smartass,” I chuckled, as tears made their presence my eyes. “Leave it to you to make a smartass remark right now.”

  Her eyes searched mine. “Is it all right, what I did back there? Do you think I’ll be forgiven for it?”

  I ran my fingertips over cheek and jaw, tucking hair behind her ear, taking in as much of her as I could as gently as I could. As though I might never get another chance. “I’m sure that whoever looks down on such things understands you had no choice.”

  “You think so?”

  “I’m certain of it,” I replied with a catch in my voice.

  “I wouldn’t want to die now with that on my—”

  “You’re not going to die,” I growled, turning her face to mine. “Say it. You’re not going to die.”

  She winced as Mother did something to her, face contorting in pain. “I’m… not going to die,” she whispered, shaking.

  “I won’t let you. I won’t.” I kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, before sliding an arm under her neck to hold her just a little closer. “Why did you do it, though? Why do this?”

  “Why do you think I did it?” She looked me straight in the eye.

  I remembered the sight of her bursting through the door, rifle raised, ready to mow down anyone who got in her way. How much it had taken for her to do something like that. “Don’t say you did it for me, my love,” I murmured, pressing my lips to her forehead.

  “I did. I did. For all of you. But mostly… you.”

  “And you know now? What I am?”

  “I knew it… before I came. I saw you.”

  So she was watching. I knew it. Just as I had felt her back on the beach, while she watched from the boat. Her presence would always scream out to me, no matter where we were.

  And she had come, anyway. Even though I was a dragon, so totally unlike her or anyone she’d ever known, she still came for me. For us.

  Her back arched and I knew my mother was going in for the bullet.

  She screamed softly, gritting her teeth and squeezing my hand until her arm shook. Tears streamed down her face, cutting paths through the dirt and blood smeared on her cheeks.

  “I love you. You know that?.” I touched my forehead to hers, whispering. “I love you.”

  She went limp.

  I let out a strangled cry.

  “Hush, now,” Mother murmured. “She’s merely unconscious, and it’s a blessing at that. I’ve located the bullet. Sneaky little bugger.” She held the wound open with one probe and fished out the metal slug with a pair of long tweezers.

  “How do you know how to do that?” I asked in wonder.

  “I’ve watched a lot of television,” she chuckled. “Something to pass the time, I suppose.”

  I gave her a look.

  “I worked with a healer. Learned a few things.”

  “What about the wound? Infection?”

  She looked at me. “What do you think?”

  I wasn’t thinking. That was the problem. “Of course. It has to be me.”

  “I would expect nothing else.” She watched as I used a scalpel to slice into my arm, turning it upside down so the blood would drip down onto the hole in Martina’s stomach.

  We both stared as it slowly closed. I had seen my blood heal before, but the sight of it never grew old. Especially when I loved the person it was healing.

  “You love this woman?” Mother’s hand on my shoulder was warm and understanding.

  “I didn’t know it for certain until now, I admit. But part of me knew from the beginning. I told myself she was nothing but a distraction, a pain in the… you know.”

  She chuckled at my reticence.

  I continued, “But there’s no doubting it. Perhaps I had to almost lose her to know for sure.”

  “Well, after what I’ve seen of her, she has my vote of confidence.”

  The wound closed over within a minute, and the scar began to fade. She wouldn’t believe it when she awoke.

  I lifted her body and carried her to the curtained-off area, where there was a makeshift shower. Mother bathed her while I went out to check the damage.

  “Don’t worry about her,” she assured me as I left the cell. “My son loves her. She’s a daughter to me now.”

  Miles practically glowed with pride as he clapped me on the back. “That’s all of them.”

  “All of them.”

  The room was painted in blood, strewn with broken glass and broken bodies.

  And filled with our clan, wandering around as though they were just waking up from a dream. In a way, they were.

  They’d found fresh tunics and put them on while Mother performed her operation.

  By the time I joined them, they were looking to Miles and me for further instruction.

  “What
do we do now?” Dallas asked, sliding an arm around Ainsley’s waist. She leaned against him with her eyes closed, sighing in relief.

  “We get out of here,” I explained. “There should be a boat still waiting, roughly a mile away. Not enough room for all of us, but the first boat in can request more.”

  “How’s Martina?” Miles asked as everyone began filing out, through the doors and down the corridor.

  Bodies lined the walls, pushed aside as if to make room. She had taken care of many of them for us. Brave, crazy girl.

  “She’ll be all right,” I said, daring to smile. “Mother’s a good surgeon, and the blood healed her. She’ll be weak, no doubt, but she made it to us in time.”

  He cast a look back toward the cell. “I was wrong about her. I have to tell her I was wrong.”

  “And I’m sure she’ll love hearing it,” I chuckled.

  He laughed along with me as we walked out with the others. They would need direction once they got outside.

  The smell of fresh air was a relief after smelling so much blood. I would never have believed it possible to grow tired of the scent.

  “The boat is in this direction,” I announced, pointing the way.

  We didn’t make it more than a few steps before we were met by a group of armed men, advancing toward us.

  “Wait! Stop!” I ran to the front of the group, throwing myself in front of them. “What is this?”

  I was readying to shift to protect the clan from the newcomers.

  “Gate?” Mary elbowed her way through the men.

  I breathed a heavy exhale of relief.

  Until I caught sight of the rage which shaped every line of her face.

  “Where is my daughter?” she demanded.

  16

  Martina

  “Where is my daughter?”

  I chuckled as Bonnie, Gate’s mother, helped me outside.

  “I know that voice,” I whispered.

  “Your mother?”

  “Correct.”

  “She loves you very much. I can hear it in her voice. A strong voice,” she surmised.

  “Very strong. I didn’t know until lately that she ever loved me at all,” I admitted.

  A near-death experience brought such admissions out of a person, I decided.

  “Ach, that’s a terrible thing,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I do hope there’s a softer understanding between you now.”

  “I hope so, too.” I did, with all my heart.

  So many things were clear that weren’t before. If she greeted me with nothing but demands and accusations, it would be just as painful as that bullet had been.

  Even the memory of the pain seemed to be fading, just as the wound itself had faded. Like magic. I marveled at it and couldn’t help but understand, at least in the vaguest sense, just how valuable dragon’s blood was.

  “I asked you where my daughter is. I demand to know where she is!”

  I had to give her one thing: I’d never heard her sound so frantic, not ever. She was always so controlled.

  “I’m here,” I called out as loud as I could, which wasn’t very loud, but was clearly enough for her to hear me. They were all out there, all of the clan members and ten of Mom’s men, maybe more.

  And Mom, running to me. “Martina?” she gasped, throwing her arms around me. “Are you hurt? What happened to you?”

  “I’m all right now. Just weak,” I assured her. I couldn’t help but smile as she clung to me, and I to her. It all made sense, finally and for all.

  “What would I have done?” she whispered in my ear, arms squeezing tighter than ever. “What would I ever do without you? Please, don’t do anything like that ever again. Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  “You’re all I have. You’re all there is.”

  My tears soaked into her linen shirt, as hers did into the hospital tunic Bonnie had helped me into before leading me from the cell.

  Then, it was like a switch had flipped.

  “What did you think you were doing, running off that way? I worried myself into a nervous breakdown over you, young lady.” She was still crying when she held me at arm’s length, but she wore a stern scowl. “Doing something so dangerous. Are you crazy?”

  “I’ve heard that I am,” I admitted.

  “How did you know to come for us? Or was it just for her?” Gate asked, joining us once the warm, sentimental part was over.

  “Both.” She fixed me with an icy stare. “One of my most trustworthy men is lying on a cot back at the resort, being treated for a concussion after getting his head stitched up. How he managed to pilot the boat back to the island, I’ll never know. But that’s Klaus for you.”

  “I’ll have to apologize,” I whispered, my cheeks burning.

  “You’d better,” she advised, but there was a gleam in her eye. “Did you really knock him out to take control of the boat?”

  “I did.”

  “You did?” Gate looked down at me with wide, incredulous eyes.

  I tilted my head to the side. “Is that the worst thing I did today?” The thought of it made my heart sink like a rock.

  “What did you do?” Mom asked, looking at the two of us in turn.

  “We’ll talk about it once we get back to the resort,” Gate promised. “I, for one, would rather not see this wretched place again.”

  “Too right,” Bonnie agreed, patting Mom on the back. “Come. From one mother to another, let’s get our children out of here.”

  I had never seen my mother agree to anything so quickly.

  17

  Martina

  “You really did all that?” Mom sat down beside me, taking my hand and rubbing the knuckles with her thumb.

  Something she used to do when I was small.

  “I did. I’m not proud of it.” I looked at Gate. “Not that I’m not relieved you’re all right. That was the point. I wouldn’t have changed it for your sake. I only wish there hadn’t been so many, I guess.”

  “You had no choice,” Mom reasoned. “Martina, look at me.”

  I did. There was no denying her when she got that sharp tone in her voice.

  “You had no choice. You did everything you could to save the people you cared about. They were the ones who made the first move, those mercenaries. They got what they deserved for the pain and torture they put those poor people through. Not to mention the ones they killed back in Scotland. They made their choice a long time ago, as do all soldiers of fortune. They kill for money. Everything they do is for money. Well, look where it got them. Though I do wish, for your sake, that it could’ve been just about anybody else who sent them to their just reward.”

  I let her words sink into my heart, and they did lighten it a little. Enough for me to take a deep breath and not feel a vague twinge of pain.

  “Why couldn’t we ever talk like this before?” I mourned, thinking back on all the time we’d wasted.

  Mom looked up. “Gate? Could we have a little time to ourselves?”

  He was too discreet to ask questions, leaving the office and closing the door behind him.

  I looked around with a sigh. “I’ve never been allowed in here.”

  “That was a mistake on my part. A very serious one.” She stood, rubbing her hands together, then began puttering around the room as though she was nervous. “I should’ve treated you like an adult all along, but I was afraid for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because of what happened when you were a little girl.” She looked over her shoulder, frowning. “Before you went away, to school.”

  My mouth fell open. Another piece of the puzzle.

  “My identity was never, ever supposed to be public knowledge,” she began. “But, as you can imagine, a woman in my position can fall prey to those whose job it is to dox us. And I was doxed. I got word of it one morning and arranged for you to go away that very afternoon. I couldn’t keep you with me after that. I couldn’t run the risk of losing you.”

&n
bsp; “Mom. You could’ve told me when I got older. I would’ve understood.”

  “That motherly instinct never goes away,” she sighed. “The need to keep you far from what I did followed me through the years. I kept telling myself you deserved to know, you should know, you were smart and mature enough to handle it. You’re so accomplished, everything I ever wanted in a daughter. I told myself I owed it to you. But I couldn’t bring myself to speak the words.”

  “Why not?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe I didn’t think I deserved your understanding. Don’t get me wrong, I believe in the work I do. There are many others out there like Gate’s clan, at the mercy of these evil, cruel monsters. Or foes from within their own species. I’ve always wanted to protect the good ones.”

  “How so? How did you ever get mixed up in their world?”

  She smiled.

  For a moment, that smile reminded me of her when she was younger. When I was little. Fresh and bright.

  “He didn’t tell you, then?”

  “Who?”

  “Gate.”

  “Um… no. How would he know about it?”

  “It was because of him, and his family.”

  I counted on my fingers. “When he was a baby?”

  “Oh, no. Certainly not. He was fully grown.”

  “That doesn’t add up.”

  “Poor girl. He didn’t tell you how old he is?”

  “I didn’t know he was a dragon until I saw it with my own eyes, and he didn’t know I saw.”

  “Ah. That makes sense, then.” She returned to her seat beside me. “Sweetie, he’s much, much older than he looks. Shifters, especially dragons, age extremely slowly. At a snail’s pace.”

  “How much more slowly?”

  She winced. “He’s over a thousand years old. They all are.”

  “Stop. You’re not serious.”

  She wasn’t smiling. “It could be that I should’ve let him tell you on his own, in his own way, but it might be better for you to know all there is to know in advance. So your reaction won’t hurt him, if you’re… upset.”

  Was I upset? That wasn’t the word for it. Gobsmacked, maybe. Astounded.