Protector

by Nancy Northcott

  As rooms went, this one wasn’t bad. Narrow hospital bed with crisp white sheets and a blue blanket, blue walls with forest photographs on each, and a private bath. The sun had set, limiting the view from the two windows, but he knew they overlooked the playing fields and the distant forest that marked the Collegium’s property line.

  An easy chair upholstered in muted green stripes with a small table beside it occupied one corner. Josh picked up the tablet on the table. When he swiped it, the dinner menu appeared.

  No steak. Too bad, but he could settle for roast beef with rice and gravy. Unfortunately, beer was not authorized for the infirmary.

  The army, at least, knew the strategic value of beer for easing tension. The Collegium should consider that.

  Josh wandered to the door. Might as well check out this lounge. If he couldn’t find something to occupy his attention, he’d go nuts.

  He opened his door and stepped out. Sure enough, the candles in the wall sconces sprang alight. At this rate, he would soon smell like Aunt Bree’s sachets.

  The lounge was maybe twenty by forty. Besides the flat-screen TV he’d noticed on the way in, it held a big leather couch, a table with seating for six, and a couple of easy chairs. The door in the wall to his right opened into the hallway. Two across the room and one to his left were for patient rooms. Sunlight from the window at the end lifted his spirits, even though he couldn’t absorb it properly.

  The door to his left opened, and Edie emerged. His heart kicked. The shadows under her eyes seemed faint, and her shoulders drooped only slightly. She was holding up.

  Her damp hair feathered around her newly clean face and neck, giving him an irrational urge to stroke those little tufts. She must’ve showered. She’d also changed out of the fire-resistant clothing. The loose, blue shirt she wore draped her breasts, and snug jeans hugged her hips, emphasizing the lean curves. Josh wrenched his gaze upward.

  She looked into his face and froze. “Oh. I, ah, didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll just grab a book.”

  “It’s no bother. I was about to look for a movie or something. I can read in my room if you’d rather be alone.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’ll just take my book—”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.” The words jerked out of him, abrupt and unintended.

  Her eyes widened, and he quickly added, “Don’t leave on my account.” If she did, he’d be alone, with too much mental space to worry. Especially about her.

  Still, she hesitated.

  “It’s a big room,” he noted. “Space for us both. We’re in this together, after all.”

  “I guess so.” Edie cast a doubtful look at him and turned to the bookshelf.

  Headphones hung from a peg behind the television. Josh could watch whatever he wanted and not have the sound distract her. Except that he didn’t want to watch a movie alone. He wanted to watch it with her. Or talk to her.

  Be with her.

  Yeah, okay, that was stupid since nothing between them could go beyond casual friendship. But morale was important, and they had no one else to help keep theirs up.

  Besides, Edie’d never seemed attracted to him. Except for one interlude, more like a lapse, they’d only ever been crewmates. They could fall back on that.

  “Want to watch with me?” He glanced through DVDs. There were a number of romantic comedies, some old Star Trek, the Terminator movies, even a couple of silent films.

  “Why?” Frowning, Edie held a book in both hands.

  “It’ll pass the time until dinner. You ordered, right?”

  “Yes.” After a moment, she walked over to him. “What are you watching?”

  “You pick.” If she chose one of the seriously girlie movies, he would manage to tolerate it.

  She chose a silent movie starring some guy named Buster Keaton. “My dad likes these. Ever seen one?”

  “No, but I wouldn’t mind trying it out. Go ahead and sit. I’ll load it.”

  Edie retreated to the corner of the brown leather sofa, leaving him the spot directly in front of the television.

  Josh sat down and triggered the remote. As the opening credits rolled, Edie’s face lit up.

  “You like this one,” he said.

  “It’s slapstick but clever.” She threw him a smile that flicked warmth through his chest. “You’ll see.”

  Josh watched a hapless bridegroom try to build a house from a kit with the boxes numbered wrong. If someone had described the movie to him, he would’ve called it lame, but Keaton’s outlandish stunts soon had him laughing.

  Edie slowly lost her reserve, relaxing away from her corner seat. The lights flickered over her face, and her laugh lifted Josh’s spirits.

  He liked this, he realized, sitting here with her. Too bad they were so wrong for each other.

  * * *

  Edie set her fork down. “Leaving the trays by the door feels strange, but I guess we should do it. I enjoyed the movie, Josh.”

  “Me, too. I can take that tray for you.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got it.” With a pointed look, she added, “Of course, I could take yours.”

  No need to let him see how spent she’d begun to feel, how drained. With shadows under his eyes and lines of weariness around his mouth, he didn’t look so great, but pointing that out wouldn’t help.

  Josh lifted his hands in a no harm, no foul gesture. “Just being courteous, Edie. I know you passed the wildland firefighter physical tests. Recharge problems or not, I figure you can carry a dinner tray.”

  Especially since they’d both receive a power infusion before bedtime. He was probably just being nice, but the more she let him do that, the harder she would find keeping her own distance.

  “Okay, then.” She gave him a friendly nod and carried her tray to the rack by the hall door. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Sure. Unless you want to play a game? There’re a bunch of Nintendo classics in that box by the TV table.”

  Edie picked up her fantasy novel. Holding it, she studied Josh, but his friendly, open expression revealed nothing.

  He looked so good standing there, broad-shouldered, handsome, and strong. Despite her fatigue, heat bubbled low in her belly, and her breasts tightened. But that encounter had been a mistake.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

  “You tell me,” she replied slowly. “Josh, I enjoyed the movie, and company for dinner was nice. You don’t have to look after me, though.” Saying the next bit would hurt, but they might as well have the cards on the table. “Let’s face it, you don’t even like me.”

  Shock rippled over his face. “That’s not true, Edie. I…like you fine.”

  “Nice try, but most people don’t keep coworkers they like at a distance. We’re in this together, as you said, but you don’t have to pretend we’re actual friends.”

  He opened his mouth as though to speak but shut it resolutely. As she turned away, he said, “We should keep an eye on each other. There’s no guarantee we can get to the red buttons in time if something goes wrong.”

  “The nurses will be in at intervals.” He was really taking the chivalry bit too far. Unless…“Are you worried about going to sleep?”

  “Of course not.” He grimaced. “I like systems with backups. We could be that for each other.”

  “We can do that tomorrow, I guess. Meanwhile, I wouldn’t be surprised if a doctor turned up tonight. Your southeastern comrades are very diligent. Good night, Josh.”

  Edie walked into her room and shut the door carefully behind her. She undressed quickly and pulled on her sleep shirt.

  When she’d climbed under the covers and lay holding her book, though, the silence seemed oppressive. What if she did go to sleep and just drifted on out? That could happen if her power ran low enough.

  Maybe Josh had a point.

  But the nurses would be in soon. They would check regularly. Besides, what was the alternative? Sit up with Josh and make small talk?

&nbs
p; For a moment, her heart yearned, but Edie shook her head. Nothing could come of that. Best not to depend on him, no matter how nice he was being. Aloof Josh was still his default mode.

  After all, the one time she’d turned to him, he’d abandoned her—for duty, yes, but he hadn’t come back. Best to rely on the medical staff and not on a tempting flyboy who would zoom out of her life when the crisis passed.

  * * *

  In the residential wing of the main building, Stefan headed up to his own apartment. By now, Will should’ve shut down for the night. Whatever he’d found would be waiting for Stefan to review.

  There’d better be something. The entire medical staff was out of ideas.

  Stefan opened his door and found Will’s tall, lean form kicked back on the couch, a mug on the coffee table at his elbow.

  “Hey,” Stefan began, but Will held up a finger to silence him.

  “I know, babe,” Will said, his blue eyes gleaming.

  That hand up by his ear must have his phone in it. Hard to tell with shaggy, blond-streaked brown hair hanging over it.

  Stefan dropped his keys on the table by the door and shrugged out of his lab coat. This had been a long day but showed no sign of coming to a close anytime soon. Will wouldn’t have waited unless he had something to discuss.

  “Yeah, me, too,” Will crooned into the phone. “Right. Soon. You, too, doll.”

  That conversation probably made sense if a person heard both sides of it. Clearly, Will was talking to one of his numerous women.

  Stefan headed for the kitchen. He’d chosen the warm tans, greens, and browns in his apartment for their soothing qualities, but tonight he needed a stimulus.

  The coffeemaker was almost full, so Will must’ve started another pot. Having it ready saved time but also was a bad sign. Shaking his head, Stefan poured himself a mug, black.

  He returned to the living room in time to hear Will say, “Yeah, next week. For sure. ’Night, Mia.”

  As Will pocketed his phone, Stefan raised an eyebrow. “‘Mia?’ Last week it was Leigh.”

  Will grinned up at him. “You know the old adage, ‘Love the one you’re with.’ Speaking of which, have you had a date in the last year? Mia has this hot friend—”

  “No friends. Or friends of friends.” Having once been in love made casual flings uninteresting. Stefan would keep things light until he found the real thing again, no matter how long that took. “What’d you uncover that has you waiting around for me instead of having phone sex in your own apartment?”

  “That wasn’t phone sex. You’re a doctor, and you can’t tell the difference?” Shaking his head, Will picked up his coffee. “I did find something. Sort of.”

  “So spill.” Stefan braced for the high-octane sludge Will generally brewed and took a sip. Yep. The stuff was practically pure caffeine.

  “I didn’t find anything on hexes. Or curses. Edie showed signs first, then Josh, right?”

  “Right. I keep thinking a hex should’ve hit them at the same time, or else come from something they both touched. Edie felt sick while they were on the ground to pick up the injured man. Josh was in the air again when he noticed something wrong. That’s too long a gap for a cast hex, and the only thing they both touched, the chopper, is clean.”

  Will frowned into his coffee cup. “I didn’t find anything about hexes that contradicts what you said. What I did find was a fragment from before the Burning Times, a reference to ‘uniting against the evil that drained them.’”

  “From before the Burning Times, that’s likely to do with vampires. They were a lot more numerous then.” Before Mundanes had panicked over the power demonstrated when the mageborn battled back invading demons. In their fear, the Mundanes burned everything magical, including people, they could find.

  “Yeah, but it’s from England. Vampires there were kind of like snakes in Ireland—just not to be found.”

  “True.” Rubbing his chin, Stefan sat back. “Two mages in physical contact are exponentially stronger than the two merely standing together but not touching. I wonder if that applies to things like fighting hexes. Or whatever this is.”

  “Maybe.” Will scowled into his coffee. “Too bad the books that could tell us all burned. You’ve never treated a shared hex?”

  “Sure, but shared hexes take hold at the same time. They don’t spread like a virus. Josh and Edie show no signs of hex magic. Still, this sharing idea is worth a try.”

  Stefan rolled his stiff shoulders. “Most hexes these days are cast in petty irritation and promptly lifted by the ones who cast them. They’re matters for civil fines, not questions of life and death.”

  “It’s that bad?” Will frowned, eyebrows rising. “You really think Josh and Edie could die?”

  “If we don’t figure this out in time, I’m sure they will.”

  4

  Edie glanced at her bedside clock. One a.m. The nurse had advised her to sleep, promising someone would come with another infusion of magical energy before Edie’s power dropped dangerously. The guy had even clipped a sensor to her pajama top that would let the nurses monitor her metabolic rate.

  She was being a wimp, letting fears get the better of her. She’d asked Josh if he was afraid to sleep. Maybe this was karmic payback. But she couldn’t help it. Deep inside, she was terrified that she’d go to sleep and never awaken.

  Get. A. Grip.

  Edie rolled over and punched her pillow into shape. Every firefighter knew you could battle only so long without rest. That applied here, too.

  But she would receive regular energy boosts. Regular, increasingly less effective energy boosts.

  Edie bit her lip. The thought wouldn’t go away.

  The cabinet in the lounge had also held jigsaw puzzles. Maybe if she started one, her mind would settle, and she could relax.

  She climbed out of bed and pulled her robe on. The light on the table would be enough for her to see by, and probably wouldn’t bother Josh.

  Easing the door open, Edie slipped into the lounge. The lavender candles were already lit, and she froze. Was Josh—?

  “Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, and she made out his robed shape sitting on the couch in the dimness.

  She crossed the room and perched on the edge of the chair closest to him. “Couldn’t sleep?”

  He shrugged. “It doesn’t seem so appealing when you can’t be sure you’ll wake up.”

  “I know. I shouldn’t have said that, about being afraid to sleep. Before.”

  “No big.” Another shrug. “Seems like it applies to us both, anyway.”

  “Were you just sitting in the dark?”

  “Thinking.” The word trailed off, sounding almost wistful where it might’ve been curt and dismissive.

  She wanted to ask what had been on his mind, but in these circumstances it might’ve been something very personal.

  The air between them seemed charged, making her aware of her bed-rumpled hair and the fatigue that probably shadowed her face. Sitting here in pajamas, at night, must be messing with her head.

  She couldn’t help remembering another night, when Josh had looked at her with the same warmth his eyes now held.

  Digging that line wouldn’t be smart. Edie fiddled with the tie on her robe. Feeling helpless played with people’s heads. Wasn’t that how the two of them had nearly ended up in the rack together, feeling hopeless and helpless over their dead friends?

  “I thought I might work a jigsaw puzzle. Do you ever do that?”

  “No, but my mom did.” Josh smiled, and his expression softened. “We worked them with her, my sisters and me. Sometimes my dad even…Well, it doesn’t matter.”

  Sadness dimmed that appealing light in his face and stabbed at Edie’s heart. She clenched her fist against the urge to take his hand. He wouldn’t appreciate that.

  “Want to work one with me?”

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  They crouched in front of the cabinet. Their shoulders brushed, and Edie
caught an intoxicating whiff of Josh’s spicy soap. She drew a shaky breath. It really was too bad he was so nice when he let his guard down. Seeing this side of him would make his aloof face that much harder to accept.

  The cabinet turned out to contain several puzzles, a two-hundred-piece castle scene, three five-hundred-piece landscapes, and a thousand-piece underwater scene.

  Edie reached for the underwater scene. “How about this one?”

  “A thousand pieces? You’re kidding me.” Josh hefted the castle box. “This has a castle, knights—studly guys in armor, you women might say.”

  “I prefer guys who bathe regularly.” Edie wrinkled her nose. “Besides, if we can’t work that castle one in an hour, we should go back to grade school. Aren’t you up for a challenge, flyboy?”

  “Maybe.” He grinned, mischief sparking in his eyes. Edie’s foolish heart kicked as he continued, “I bet I put in more pieces than you do in the next hour.”

  “You’re on.”

  While she set the puzzle box up on the table and turned on the lamp, Josh snagged a bottle of water for each of them.

  “Thanks, but no water on the table,” Edie said. “One spill will ruin a puzzle.”

  Josh opened his mouth, then shut it abruptly.

  “What?” Edie asked.

  “It’s nothing.” He dragged the tray rack to the end of the table and set the water bottles on it.

  “Josh…”

  “It’s what Mom used to say. Forget it.” Now his smile seemed forced, but at least he wasn’t withdrawing. “Let’s get these pieces out.”

  They worked in silence for the next several minutes. As usual, Edie rummaged through the box for edge pieces, methodically fitting them together.

  “We should keep a chart,” she said, “so we know who did how much.”

  “Yeah, ’cause I’m so smoking your ass.” He took another piece from the box.

  “In your dreams.” She eyed the assortment in front of him. “Especially if you’re just trying to fit random fish together.”

  Josh snorted. “This from Ms. Edge Pieces Only. Takes forever to pick those out from all the others.”

  “Maybe, but each of them is guaranteed to fit with another. Do you see how many little yellow fish are in this puzzle?”