Esperance: (New Adult Paranormal Romance) (Heart Lines Series Book 3)

by Heather Hildenbrand

  “Shit.” He let me go with a final jerk that sent my head thudding back into the dirt.

  I coughed, swallowing a mouthful of the dust and sweat coating my lips and teeth. “Man, what the hell was that?” I asked, my vision clearing even more as I blinked. The trees had stopped bleeding and I managed to rise up on an elbow to watch Breck climb slowly to his feet and retrieve the syringe he’d tossed aside a few minutes before.

  “Antidote, dumbass,” he said.

  I stared at him. “You just walk around carrying an antidote to unnamed poisons in your bag?”

  He gave me a wry look, one brow shooting up. “You don’t?” he challenged.

  I didn’t bother with an answer. He might have been joking but then… he might have been serious. This was Breck Winters we were talking about.

  “Well,” he said, tossing the syringe and then the vial into the bag by his feet and turning back to me. “I have good news and bad news.”

  I eyed him, my insides well enough for me to be fully suspicious now. What the hell was he doing out here? “Were you following me?” I demanded.

  “The good news,” he said, completely ignoring my question as he dusted off his hands on his faded camo pants, “Is that you’re going to live.”

  I glared at him in stony silence.

  “The bad news,” he added when I didn’t bother to ask for it, “Is that you’re still a dumbass.”

  “Screw you,” I said, concentrating on climbing to my feet. I used the trunk of the tree beside me for support and it took a few tries, but in the end, I was upright. Dizziness swirled and I blinked, holding my breath to keep from vomiting until the worst of it passed.

  Breck was watching me when I finally looked up.

  “Did you follow me out here?” I demanded again, ignoring my roiling stomach.

  “Are you going to tell me I shouldn’t have?” he asked wryly. “Because I think we both know how that would have turned out.”

  I watched as he bent down and slung the strap of the duffel over his shoulder cross-ways. He made a good point. The reality of what had just happened—or, more importantly, what had almost just happened—was sinking in slowly. I blamed that on the poison still lingering like a slow moving ooze in my organs. I’d made a bad deal. And I’d ingested real poison that had almost killed me.

  But for a split second, I’d almost felt something too.

  Now, as the poison left and my good health returned—so had the numbness. I eyed Breck who was, for some reason I could not understand, still here.

  “Thanks,” I said, shoving the word out like a last stand against…. I didn’t really know what.

  Even as I said it, the feeling of gratitude slid further away. I cared less and less with each passing moment whether I was actually alive. That was shitty. And not how I’d wanted to end the day.

  “Don’t mention it,” Breck said and then his gaze hardened and he hiked the strap of his bag further up on his shoulder. “I mean it. Don’t actually mention it. If Sam finds out you tried to Romeo her, she’s going to have issues. And you are the last person she needs more issues from. We’ll keep this between us. But if you try to off yourself again—”

  “For the last time, I was not trying to off myself,” I said, my voice rising in irritation.

  “Good.” He nodded like he was actually satisfied I’d managed to stand on two legs and give him shit. Maybe he was. Maybe it was proof I’d survived another brush with death.

  Honestly, death was really losing its edge, though. I wasn’t very impressed or intimidated anymore. I crossed my arms over my chest—mostly to prove I could do that and stand up at the same time.

  “I was trying to get the numbness out,” I explained grudgingly. He had saved my life after all. He deserved to know what I’d intended to accomplish out here.

  “So you thought ingesting a little werewolf venom would what? Reset things? Send you back in time to the moment you made the worst decision of your life and chose the evil bitch you’re working for now over my sister?”

  I didn’t answer.

  We both knew it was a rhetorical question anyway.

  “It was obviously a bad batch,” I said and Breck snorted.

  “Like I said, don’t mention this and I won’t either.” Breck took a step and then turned back. “And this doesn’t change anything between us. If you go near Sam. If you try to hurt her again in any way, I will kill you.”

  I watched as he turned and made his way back toward the trail.

  His words rang out in the stillness around me, and I realized even the birds had gone silent. He was a force, Breck Winters. And despite the threat of death—twice—he’d just saved my life. On some level I was pretty sure I owed him for that. And that I should probably be grateful. And that maybe meant in an alternate dimension where he didn’t have a sister, we might have been friends.

  But I believed him wholeheartedly that his threat stood. And that aside from it, he actually didn’t think of me as an enemy. Although, his following me here today meant CHAS was keeping closer tabs on me than I thought. But he had saved my life. And whether that was on official orders from CHAS or not, I appreciated it. The problem was, I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved I was still breathing or pissed that I still couldn’t feel.

  Not a single fucking emotion existed in me. Not gratitude for Breck’s help. Not resistance for helping the bad guy with her evil murder-and-mayhem plot. And not love. For the only girl I’d ever even considered using that word on.

  Sam was lost to me now. Probably had been for a while but I’d been too slow to realize it before. Because even if I did free myself from Indra’s numbing magic, there was no way Breck or the others would ever let me near her again. In fact, if Sam was smart—and she was—she’d cuss me out and turn her back on me the moment I showed up. She wouldn’t need anyone to protect her from me. I’d already done all the damage necessary to ensure Sam would never, ever be mine again.

  Standing there alone in the woods as the sun set, for the first time since Indra had infiltrated me, I felt something. It wasn’t pleasure. Or happiness or even enjoyment. But I hadn’t expected any of that. I knew better. The feeling was familiar enough to be comforting, though, so I held onto it, reveling in the way my chest tightened and my lungs closed around it. Sam. Losing Sam. That was it. I’d found a thought that hurt.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sam

  Smelling salts brought me awake. I shot up into a sitting position and then immediately doubled back over again, twisting sideways while my stomach rolled with the intensity of the ammonia.

  “There’s a bucket right here,” Brittany said, shoving something under my face as I gagged and coughed.

  I recoiled before anything could actually come up and out of my throat. “Is that a bedpan?” I croaked, shocked to hear how rough my own voice sounded.

  “Uh. Hang on.” The object disappeared and I watched Brittany’s feet race to the other side of the room. There was a lot of shuffling and then something fell and rolled on the hard hospital floor.

  I didn’t bother to look up.

  Koby appeared, scooting in close to me and rubbing my back with a hand I suspected was trying to help relieve me of the worst of my symptoms. He tried offering a bottle of water but I shook my head and didn’t even attempt to grab it. I kept my eyes trained on the floor, still a little too shaken to trust the contents of my stomach to stay on the inside of my body. My head spun.

  I felt hung over.

  Except without the fun drunken night beforehand to justify the symptoms.

  RJ poked his head in from the hall, and I managed to look up, my hair hanging in my face as I pushed up on my palms. He blanched at the sight of me on the floor. “What the hell happened?” he demanded.

  “I’m fine,” I assured him quickly.

  But he ignored me and looked at Koby. “Should I get a doctor for her too?”

  “Too?” I repeated, confused.

  “She’s okay,” Koby said
only a little uncertainly. “I caught her before she could hit the ground too hard.”

  There was more shuffling and I suddenly realized Brittany hadn’t returned to my side. She was still standing a few feet away and judging from the way her—my—moccasins pointed, she was tending to Mason. I looked up and froze at the sight of the bedsheet moving. Mason’s hospital bed sat just above where I’d apparently collapsed on the floor. And he was in it. And MOVING.

  I shoved to my feet, using the bed frame to pull me up, and ignored Koby’s attempts to help me. The moment my eyes cleared the top edge of the mattress, they went wide and my mouth fell open.

  A sigh of relief almost had my knees buckling but I pushed against it and leaned toward Mason, clutching at the sheet and then at him as I pushed in closer. He turned and met my eyes—and smiled weakly.

  This time, my knees couldn’t be saved. They buckled and I sank onto the edge of the mattress, reaching for Mason with both hands. He didn’t flinch as I practically fell on top of him. His arms came around me immediately and he pulled me in, hugging me tight until I lay over him, my legs tangled over his with only the thin sheet between us. I snaked my arms around his neck, even more relieved when he didn’t complain about any pains since I wasn’t exactly gentle in the desperate way I grabbed him and hung on.

  When I felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, tears sprang to my eyes and I buried my face in his neck. His hands rubbed my back in silent comfort and he whispered against my hair, “I’m here. It’s okay.”

  At the sound of his voice, I lost it and the tears fell freely, dripping from my eyes to his shoulder and throat. He didn’t protest, only continued to rub my back and offering soothing words of soft comfort as I cried the relief out of me.

  Someone cleared their throat. Out of the corner of my eye, a white coat flashed. I turned to look and then sprang back when I caught sight of a stranger standing on the other side of Mason’s bed. He wore a white lab coat and carried a clipboard that he pretended to be interested in as he shot us pointed glances.

  My cheeks heated and I climbed very awkwardly off Mason. Brittany helped set me upright, feet on the floor, and I clung to her gratefully. With the adrenaline—and the tears—waning, exhaustion hit me and I felt light-headed from everything I’d just put my mind and body through.

  “I hear our patient is awake,” the man said, friendly now that the awkwardness had passed. He shook Mason’s hand gently and then released it, reaching for his stethoscope. “I’m Doctor Arnold. I’ve been monitoring your progress over the last few weeks. How are you feeling?”

  “Few weeks?” Mason repeated and shot me a startled glance.

  I stepped forward and took his hand, holding it while the doctor explained how long Mason had been unconscious and their theories on why. When he’d finished, we all waited quietly while the doctor checked his pupils—no more yellow glowing eyes—, his heart, and whatever else he made notes about on the clipboard.

  “Everything looks great right now,” Doctor Arnold said. “I’ll come back in an hour for more extensive tests.”

  “And dinner?” Mason asked.

  I smiled at that. More proof our patient really was doing fine.

  “And dinner,” Doctor Arnold agreed. He gave us all a pointed look that said we better be on our way by then and slipped out, clipboard in hand.

  When Doctor Arnold had gone, I set aside the cup of water Koby had coaxed me to drink and returned to Mason’s bedside, this time perching on the edge of his mattress instead of throwing myself on top of him again.

  As soon as I sat down, he took my hand and without the rush of relief, I felt awkward at having him touch me. But seeing him awake and talking and evidently back to himself was more than enough reason to let it go. For now.

  “I can’t believe I was out for so long,” Mason said. “Is my dad here?”

  “No, he…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence. I looked away but Mason didn’t seem nearly as upset as I was. When I looked back at him, his lips had thinned into a hard line and he ran a hand through his hair roughly. It had grown longer in the short weeks he’d been unconscious.

  “That’s fine. I’ll call him later,” Mason said roughly.

  I sighed.

  The exhaustion still clung to me but I pushed it aside, glad for the chance to sit and the warmth of Mason’s hands in my cold and clammy ones. Brittany still stood close by, this time with an actual barf bag in hand. RJ had stepped inside the doorway after Doctor Arnold left but he hovered near it as if guarding both inside and out at the same time. Koby stood on the other side of Mason, far enough back that he wasn’t intrusive. I sensed that he wanted to help me but I wasn’t willing to let on how tired I was. Not yet. Not until I knew whether Mason was really all right. This moment should belong to him; not me.

  “Shit, if I’ve been out that long,” Mason said, looking over at me with wide eyes, “I’ve probably missed a lot. Is… Did you stop the infection?” he asked.

  I nodded reassuringly but it was RJ who spoke up. “Sam saved your ass just now.”

  I shot RJ a look. He hadn’t been rude but the message was clear: He had his reservations about whether Mason deserved the healing I’d given him.

  Mason was watching me intently when I turned back to him. My cheeks heated underneath his awed scrutiny. “You … did this for me?” he asked. “After everything I—God, thank you, Sam. I owe you.”

  I pretended not to hear RJ muttering an agreement and patted Mason’s hand. “We won’t know anything official until Doctor Arnold runs those tests,” I told him.

  “But since you aren’t foaming at the mouth and your eyes aren’t glowing, I’d say you’re out of the woods,” Brittany put in.

  Mason winced.

  “Do you remember what happened before…?” I asked, hoping for a swift tension diffuser.

  Mason’s forehead creased and his brows knotted thoughtfully. His eyes glinted with a hardness and then an apology as he finally looked over at me. “God. Sam, I am so sorry,” he said.

  “You don’t have to apologize to me,” I said. “You weren’t yourself then and I’m fine.”

  He shook his head, the pain-filled look in his eyes raw and biting. “You don’t know… I didn’t get to tell you…” He sighed and leaned his head back against the pillow. When he raised it again, he looked over everyone in the room as if finally realizing we weren’t alone. “Who are all these people?” he said quietly.

  “This is Brittany, my roommate, whom you’ve met,” I said, pointing.

  Mason nodded.

  “Also, Sam’s protection detail,” she said.

  He nodded again, this time with a knowing look. “You’re a hunter. I knew it before.” Then he looked at me. “You didn’t.”

  I had to remind myself all over again not to get pissed that Mason had known it before me. Or that he hadn’t told me. There’d be time for that later. I shot Brittany a look, but she shrugged, her eyes wide with mock innocence.

  I turned back and pointed to Koby. “This is Koby. He’s also a hunter and he’s helping me practice my healing. Koby, this is Mason Harding. He and I went to high school together. He was going to CCU until he became infected with the werewolf virus.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you.” Koby stepped forward and shook Mason’s hand. A second later, I felt Mason relax.

  “Oh,” Mason said, sinking further into the pillows.

  I smirked. “Koby’s also an empath,” I said. “He can feel what you’re feeling and then sort take it off your shoulders.”

  “Very nice. Thanks, man,” Mason said.

  Koby nodded and stepped back.

  “Don’t get too comfortable. It’s not a Get Out of Jail Free card,” RJ told him.

  “And that’s RJ. He’s a friend,” I said with extra emphasis on the “friend” part—more for RJ’s benefit than anything.

  RJ rolled his eyes at that. He didn’t move from his spot where he leaned near the doorway. Instead, he gave Mas
on a quick lift of his chin. “Glad you’re feeling like yourself again,” he added.

  Not unfriendly but not exactly welcoming. I sighed, already knowing it was the best I would get from him. Especially since he knew Mason had tried to kill me.

  “A whole team? You’re all in charge of protecting Sam?” Mason asked slowly, looking back and forth between the three of them. At their mutterings of confirmation, Mason turned to me, brows knitted.

  “The, uh, threat level has sort of increased lately,” I said.

  Mason looked a little guilty and then his brows knitted again. “Where’s Channing? He was attached to your hip last time I saw you.”

  I felt the pain in my chest like a knife twisting and dropped my gaze from his, suddenly not trusting my voice.

  “He’s not assigned to the team anymore,” Brittany said quietly.

  I felt Mason’s gaze leave me and flick to Brittany. Something must have passed between them because he let it drop, squeezing my hand. I wondered if he thought that meant he had a shot, but there wasn’t enough energy left in me now to stay awake, on my feet, and decipher whether Mason was hitting on me yet.

  I decided that last one would have to wait.

  “Well, I guess if Sam trusts you all, then I do too.” He took a deep breath and I realized there was something on his mind. “You should know that what I had… what you healed, Sam…” he added slowly, “wasn’t exactly the virus your people say it is.”

  RJ took a step forward, distrust written all over his tense posture. Brittany did the same although she was more subtle about it. Koby was the only one who looked unaffected by Mason’s admission. I hoped that was because he could see into Mason’s aura like I had and knew there wasn’t anything in him that wished us harm. Not anymore.

  “What is it then?” RJ asked.

  Mason shifted under RJ’s hard study, and I watched as he realized how my friends had taken his words. “Look, I’m on your side,” Mason said quickly. “I just... there were some things I learned before I… some things I wanted to tell Sam but there just wasn’t time and she made sure I couldn’t. I…”