by Evi Asher
Jax stepped forward. “I have to leave. I have a charge to deliver to the reaper realm. Can I put Grave in the jeep for you?”
“Yes, please.” Athera moved out of the way so Jax could scoop Grave into his arms. It wasn’t without effort, as Jax grunted, but got Grave lifted.
“You need a diet, man,” Jax complained as Josy opened the back door of the jeep. Jax then put Grave gently down on the seat.
He stepped back and nodded in acknowledgment. “Look after him,” he said. Jax took hold of the soul and disappeared like mist.
“I’ll drive. You get in the back with Grave. The route to Drusilla’s place is bumpy, so try to keep him from rolling around too much.”
“Okay.” Athera climbed into the back seat, though there wasn’t space for her. She lifted Grave’s head and scooted under it, laying it down on her lap.
Josy got into the driver’s seat and started the jeep. “It’s going to feel weird when we go through the portal, then I’m going to stop and close it again. Just stay with Grave, okay?”
“Wild horses, Josy. Wild horses.” Athera looked down at the face of the male whose life hung in the balance and she knew right in that moment that she was falling for Grave.
Chapter Six
Bumpy? That was the understatement of the... Athera was at a loss for a good time frame that would make an adequate hyperbole for the sheer rollercoaster ride of bumps they experienced once they were through the portal to the realm of the faery.
“I thought you said that faewere technically advanced, with tarred roads and stuff.”
“They are,” Josy answered, glancing back over her shoulder. “But where we are going is sort of... off road.”
Athera ignored what Josy said as she shifted Grave’s head in her lap, lifting it a little to free his long blond braid and pull it over his shoulder.
He groaned and she froze. “Sorry, Grave. I’ll stop fidgeting.”
He didn’t answer, his eyelids fluttering as they hit another deep hole.
“Try and dodge the holes, would you?” Athera grumbled.
“Sorry, I didn’t see that one. I should have. It was a donga for sure, but I didn’t.”
“Do I need to take you to get eye glasses when this is all over?”
“I don’t know.” Josy turned her head to grin at Athera before watching the road again. “Do you think I’ll look like a sexy librarian with a pair of glasses?”
Athera tilted her head and pretended to ponder the question. “Yeah, but only if it’s a pair of those glasses from the fifties with the upturned sides.”
“Ohhhhh.” Josy elongated the sound, grinning, as she did. “Now that would be sexy librarian.”
Both women grinned, but then Grave groaned again and Athera looked down at him, smoothing her fingers over his forehead. “Hold on, Grave. I’m not going to let you die.”
“No, we won’t let him die. We are close now. Please, for the love of all things in creation, let me do the talking, because knowing you, you’ll open your mouth and something insulting will fall out.” Josy shifted gears and turned toward a copse of trees.
“It looks the same as everywhere else, so how do you know we are almost there?” Athera found herself being glared at in the rearview mirror. “Okay, okay, I’ll keep quiet.”
“Good, and stay quiet while I do the talking,” Josy said.
Athera didn’t bother responding. She was praying in her head. She needed Grave to be okay.
The jeep slammed into something and Athera flew forward into Grave, who in turn, flew into the back of the passenger seat.
She shifted back onto the seat as best as she could and manhandled Grave into her lap. She was checking his wound for bleeding when she demanded, “What the hell, Josy?”
“Force-field,” Josy muttered.
“Oh, my god. Did we go through the portal into an episode of Star Trek?” Athera grumbled as Josy killed the engine.
The air in front of the jeep seemed to shimmer, then a large male stepped through it. One moment Athera was looking at dense brush and the next, she could see the male, and behind him were manicured lawns leading to a flower garden that in turn led to a cottage that looked like it came out of a Thomas Kinkaid painting.
Athera ignored the idyllic scene. Her eyes were on the male who was approaching her side of the jeep. He must have been close to seven feet tall, his dark hair short, his features sculpted and masculine.
He had the door open before she could think to reach for the lock.
Bending at the waist, he reached in. “Quick, we need to get him to Drusilla before the venom can do any more damage.”
Athera was confused. How did he know anything about what had happened to Grave? “Wait.”
“Not now, Athera.” He scooped Grave out of her arms as if Grave weighed nothing and turned, carrying the reaper as if he was a child asleep and being taken to bed.
Athera stumbled her way out the back of the jeep and turned to look at Josy, who had gotten out, too. Josy shrugged as if she didn’t know what was happening either.
The male wasn’t waiting—his big stride sate up the distance to the cottage. Athera didn’t wait for Josy to try and figure out what was going on. The male had Grave, so she would follow the male.
His long strides took him up a cobblestone path that was framed with flower beds. Every color of the spectrum was represented by the flowers growing in fragrant earth.
Athera was amazed at how much detail she was taking it. Was it shock? Probably, but she didn’t care how shocky she was, because Grave groaned and she darted forward, almost slamming into the big male’s back as he reached the front door of the cottage.
The door was plain wood, worn but cared for, so it gave off its own glow with a polished sheen.
The door opened on silent hinges and swung inwards. Athera expected the interior to be dark, considering the brightness of the daylight outside, but the cottage was warm, inviting, and had its own glow. It wasn’t a physical glow, but the place seemed to exude a light that was more than natural. They were in a hallway. The cottage was bigger inside than it seemed to be from the outside, and Josy almost plowed into Athera’s back as the male came to a stop.
A feminine voice called out, “Bring him to the surgery, William.”
The male now had a name. William started walking down the hall and took the second door on the left.
Once again the wooden panel swung open of its own accord, and William stepped through the doorway. Athera could see he was being careful not to jostle Grave or bump Grave’s head on the door jamb.
William took Grave three more steps and laid him down on an exam table.
Athera took in the room almost by osmosis. They were in a room that looked like any medical treatment suite that Athera had seen in the modern world. In addition to the exam table in the center of the room, wheeled trays held instruments and supplies, and the walls were lined with drawers and shelves holding more supplies. There was even a glass-fronted cabinet with a lock on it that that appeared to be refrigerated and held small glass bottles that could only have meds in them.
Had they looped back to the real world and ended up in a hospital?
That idea was dismissed in a hurry when she saw the doctor. The woman was petite, tiny. Athera would have guessed her height at about four feet ten inches max. Although her height—or lack of it—was startling, what was even more startling were hear ears. They were pointed.
Athera realized she should have been expecting something like that. She was in the realm of the fae, after all, so it stood to reason that the woman would have pointed ears. Athera had always thought that any fae would be exceptionally beautiful, and that was not the case with this one.
In fact, the woman who was fussing over Grave was plain, and that was stretching the limit of kindness.
“Give me that tubing and dig in that drawer and find me the biggest needle you can.” The fae was giving William orders and he was following them.
“He
llo, Drusilla,” Josy said as she pushed past Athera.
“Hi, Jo-Jo. So glad you brought me some venom.”
Athera looked over at Josy and mouthed Jo-Jo?
Josy smiled with a shrug but then directed her attention back to Drusilla. “Just save Grave, please. You can have all the venom, but save him.”
Drusilla looked up and gave Josy a smile before looking down at her hands again as she gently palpated Grave’s wound. “I’ll do what I can.”
Athera was not paying much attention to what Drusilla was saying. She was watching Drusilla’s hands as the fae female pressed down around the wound on Grave’s abdomen.
Even while he was unconscious, he would jerk slightly if Drusilla’s hands moved too close to the tear in his flesh.
“Can you be gentler please?” Athera found herself saying. She was sure she meant to think it and not say it, because when Drusilla stopped and pierced Athera with a glare, she knew she should have kept her mouth shut.
Athera instinctively knew that Drusilla was not above stepping away from Grave and leaving him to die.
“I’m sorry, I’ll keep quiet.” Athera folded her arms across her chest.
Drusilla gave her one more quelling glare before looking down at Grave’s wound again. “Ah, there it is.”
Athera stepped closer and looked down to see what Drusilla was looking at.
Below the open wound in Grave’s abdomen—Athera suppressed a shudder at the blood and tried not to look at that part—was a dark patch of skin about the size of a quarter.
“Give me the needle, William, and fetch that blood collection kit from the top drawer over there.” She pointed to a set of drawers to her left.
William handed her the needle and she fiddled with the package, opening it and taking out the syringe. She removed the plunger and bent over Grave again. Touching his skin on the black spot, she pressed her fingers in gently then nodded and brought the large needle toward Grave’s stomach.
Athera decided right there and then that she did not like needles. She would not be getting that tattooed sleeve she wanted after all.
She wondered where the hell that inane thought had come from. She needed to be focusing on Grave.
Drusilla looked up without puncturing the skin on Grave’s abdomen and said, “Your friend looks a bit pale, Jo-Jo. Perhaps you should take her out of here.”
Josy turned to Athera and Athera held up her hand to stop the witch from doing or saying anything. “If you try to remove me from this room, I will burn this whole place down, and that’s a vow.”
“I guess she will be staying then.” Drusilla looked down and in one swift movement pushed the needle into Grave’s stomach.
Even unconscious, he moaned and started to writhe.
“Hold him still, William.” Drusilla pushed the blood collection tube back into the syringe.
William moved toward Grave’s shoulders and leaned down, pushing Grave into the table so that he would be immobile. Athera took it all in, but her eyes were riveted to the black goo that was slowly creeping into the blood collection vial.
If a semi-liquid could be or look evil, this stuff fit the bill.
“That’s the venom?” Athera heard herself asking. She was kind of out of it, her body on auto-pilot, her heart twisted up in knots.
She was trying her best not to think, but thoughts and feelings were creeping in anyway. The first was terror—a terror so strong it felt like she was being buried alive, and her fear was not for herself, but for Grave. If he died... Her throat closed up.
She had to remind herself that the fae woman was helping him, getting the venom out. Grave was a strong eternal male. It took a lot to kill eternals.
But that venom... it looked so insidious, so potently bad. She didn’t know if what the fae was doing would be enough.
“Will you get all the venom?” she asked and had to clear her throat because the words had come out in a croak.
Drusilla popped out the full blood collection vial, then pushed in a fresh one, and immediately the black goop started to fill that vial.
“Sadly, no.” Drusilla looked up. “The venom works in stages. It collects in one spot, then disperses throughout the body. That way they can track their prey and do what they do at their leisure. The venom will make the prey progressively sicker as it spreads. The closest thing I can match it to is the bite of a komodo dragon.”
Athera did shudder this time as her mind filled with thoughts of what those monsters would do to their prey. “How much got into Grave’s system?”
Drusilla popped in a third collection vial before answering. “I’m not sure, and before you ask, I don’t think he is going to survive this. The venom had too much chance to do its damage.”
The flow of the venom became a sickly red-black color instead of the black goop it had been before. “Good.” She seemed pleased that the venom was changing color. Even though the collection tube was only half filled, Drusilla took it out and then put in a fresh one.
Athera stepped right up to the bed and picked up Grave’s limp hand, holding it in both of hers in a death grip. His skin was too pale, the glow of health gone. He looked like he was already gone.
“Please.” Athera didn’t realize she’d spoken out loud until she felt Josy’s hand on her shoulder squeezing gently.
“Don’t worry, we will do our best to save your guy,” Josy said as she gave Athera another gentle squeeze.
Athera wanted to protest that doing their best wasn’t good enough, but she clenched her jaw and stared down at his too-pale features. This male was hers. He had been from the first moment she’d seen him, with his bare chest and his hip-hugging jeans, sitting on a rock waiting for them. He was her guy, and she wasn’t going to let something as stupid as death steal her reaper away from her.
“What are you doing?” Drusilla’s voice sounded far away. Like the echo from a long corridor, it was vague, but not easy to ignore. It was like the words were there, but they weren’t making sense.
Athera felt warmth where her hands were holding Grave’s hand and looked away from his face to their connected hands. Hers were glowing, a pulsing yellow light that darkened toward orange at the apex of the pulse.
“What are you doing, Athera?” This time, it sounded like Josy, but Athera couldn’t be sure, because the sound was still distorted and full of echoes.
The glint of light on metal caught her eyes, and Athera saw the instrument tray to her left, near Grave’s head. The scalpel caught her eye and she knew with a certainty that she couldn’t explain what she had to do.
She released Grave’s hand only long enough to grab the scalpel. With a quick slash, she drew the blade down her palm. Blood welled up and overflowed immediately and as it did, the pulse came again, only this time it was ruby red.
People were yelling at her and grabbing her, but Athera was immovable. As the pulse hit its zenith, she lunged forward, slamming her bleeding palm directly into Grave’s open wound. She felt the give of torn flesh, then nothing. She could see nothing, either, as the world had turned white around her. Everything was so stark she had to squint her eyes to try to see, but she still could not make anything out.
Athera.She heard Grave’s voice, but she didn’t hear it with her ears. His voice was in her head, part of her being, and she decided that she had imagined it. She wanted so badly for him to be okay that she’d imagined him talking to her. The world went from white to black and Athera’s last thought was... It was worth it.
Chapter Seven
“... do I have to tell you? It’s my spell, so I can track it.” A familiar male voice tugged Athera back into consciousness. She cracked open her eyes and gasped with the pain slamming hard behind her eyes. Athera lifted a hand that felt like lead and dropped it over her abused eyes.
Eternals didn’t get drunk from alcohol, so she could only imagine this was what an epic hangover would feel like.
“Yeah, but it was too easy.”
A second male voice mad
e Athera peek through a tiny gap between her eyelids. She groaned.
“What...” She had to clear her throat. “What are you two doing here?”
Laz and Heath were supposed to be back in Crossroads, not here in the fae realm with her and Gra—
Athera shot up into a sitting position. “Where is Grave?” was all she got out before nausea made itself known. Someone handed her a bucket and Athera dry heaved into it for about five minutes before she could get her mutinous stomach under control.
A glass of ice cold water was put in her hand and the bucket was removed. Athera could say a lot about these males, and now she could add good nursemaid to the list. She glugged the water only to have it yanked out her hands.
“Not so fast. Do you want to hurl again?” Laz admonished as he put the water glass down on the table next to the bed Athera was lying on.
“Where is Grave?” She pushed back the comforter that was over her body and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The room was still too bright, and she could make out Heath and Laz in a halo of light that she had to squint against.
“Relax.” Heath put big hands on her shoulders and pushed her back down when she tried to stand. “Grave is right over there, in the other bed.”
Athera squinted harder. “Can someone close the drapes or something?”
There was a beat of silence and blessed darkness. Athera could see again—no more blinding light.
“Thank you. That sunlight was painful.” Athera got up and moved over to where Grave was lying.
“It’s night time, Ath. I had to switch off the light,” Laz told her.
Athera sat down next to Grave and assured herself that his chest was rising and falling. There was a bandage over his stomach where his wound was, and she was grateful that she couldn’t see any blood seeping through it.
“Is he going to be okay?” she asked.
“Yes, he’s going to be fine after he gets some rest,” Heath replied.
“Wait, did you say the light in here is off?” Athera turned and looked at her friends. Both men sat in chairs that had been pulled into the middle of the room, and to her, it seemed daylight-bright in the room.