He feels safer with us than he ever did at the Facility. She smiled at his emotion.
“Do you already have a name?” The little boy frowned and looked down at the shiny pennies still in his hands.
“Look, my name is Meg,” she said, pointing at herself.
“That is my brother, Alik.” The little boy followed Meg’s eyes and looked up into the smiling face of his magician playmate.
“Do you have a name or do they just call you M and a number?”
The little boy reached up to his shoulder and pulled up the little cotton sleeve.
A black tattoo was already etched deeply into his baby skin. It read M618.
“Yes, sweetie. We were given M numbers, too.”
Creed moved closer to the little boy and pulled up his sleeve to show him he was marked with an M number, too. “See, little man? The mean doctors did that to me, too, but I go by the name Creed.”
“We all have M numbers, but we don’t go by them. Our Mom named us.” The child’s face looked surprised. “Yes, Alik, Evan and I were at a place like the Facility when we were your age and people in white coats did bad stuff to us, too. I’m so sorry that happened to you, but you’re safe with us. We’ll never let someone hurt you again. Okay?”
The little boy’s eyes were wide as he stared into his lap. Meg could sense a deep well of trauma and sadness. He looked as though he had almost disconnected from everyone, lost in his own mind.
Meg almost winced with the crisp empath reading her feelers delivered straight to her heart—tearing it wide for the little boy. After working with him for hours, their connection was deep and though she knew it would drain the small reserves her rest had only just replenished, she reached out with her heart to toss the warm, white blanket over his sadness. She wrapped it around carefully and grasped the four corners with two hands. A precise pull was required to budge the deeply entrenched vein of trauma. Meg reached out for Creed’s hand, trusting he would have instinctively moved to be right with her. The warmth and strength in his touch gave her the peace of mind to finish what she started.
A deep breath and silent prayer gave her the strength to grasp the corners of her empath blanket. It bulged, ballooned and quivered with the blackness that had been around the baby’s heart. With a deep breath, Meg used her gift to heave the bundle into the sky, giving it to God.
Danny shuddered against Alik and leaned back, his whole body seeming to melt against him, relaxed and peaceful.
“There, little one. Do you feel better?” Meg’s voice was winded, but a wide smile distracted everyone from the paleness of her face.
The child nodded slowly, his baby blue eyes wide with wonder.
“Would you let me name you?” Meg asked him.
A small smile crawled across his peace-filled face.
“Yes?” Meg asked, wanting to be sure before she gave him the name she’d already chosen.
Little ringlets moved to fall into his eyes when he nodded.
“Your name is Daniel. It means ‘God is my judge.’ But we’ll call you ‘Danny’ as a nickname. Is that okay?”
The little boy’s mouth opened wide but instead of uttering a single word, he just yawned deeply. Danny’s eyelids fluttered as he nodded his head, accepting the first gift given to him by his new family.
Chapter 18 Nuggets of Wisdom
Creed had to help Meg steady herself to walk back to the galley, but by the time he got her there, he just moved to sit her exhausted body down.
“I’ll get him food. You just rest.” His breath was sweet and warm against her forehead as he leaned down to kiss her gently before moving to start hunting for food in the cabinets and small refrigerator.
“That should do it,” Evan was saying to the stewardess. “Once we land, you may want to go to see a doctor, but he or she is probably going to say to keep the site clean and the butterfly closures in place for at least a week.”
“How did you know how to fix this?” the woman asked, looking at herself in the compact mirror she’d retrieved from her purse.
Evan just shrugged, sure the older woman wouldn’t believe him if he told her he’d been studying medicine for the last few years and had performed many complex surgeries.
“Now how come she gets butterfly bandages, and I get a suturing needle poked clear through my hand?” Meg pretended irritation at her brother, trying to deflect the conversation.
Evan just chuckled and busied himself organizing everything back into his doctor’s bag.
The flight attendant looked over at Meg with an incredulous expression, deciding she was probably joking. No way had this little boy stitched up anyone, let alone his sister in midair.
The portly woman raised one painted-on brow before standing. “Well, I feel good enough to take over whatever it is you’re doing, young man.”
“I was looking to make some food for the little boy up front. He’s very hungry.” Creed said, and left it at that.
“The little boy, huh?” She asked, finger on her chin, thinking before she spoke again. “Well, if he’s like every other kid, the best bet is going to be chicken tenders with lots of ketchup.” She nodded happily to herself as she reached down to a hidden freezer compartment and pulled out a frozen meal wrapped in what looked like generic packaging.
“I’ll bring it back to him when it’s done,” she offered.
“Actually, would you mind if I did that part? He’s pretty nervous around strangers,” Meg asked from her quiet seat where she’d been watching her mother breathe.
“Of course, dear. Just give me about six minutes,” the attendant said while holding the box at arm’s length to read the microwave instructions.
The stewardess was right. Danny ate like a champ for the first few bites, but slowed down fast. Evan was glad he did. After not having had much to eat for weeks, it was going to take a while for the little guy’s stomach to get accustomed to food. He really did need to start slowly.
He had fallen asleep looking healthier than he’d probably been in months. Meg said a silent prayer of thanks for the little boy’s well-being.
They had flown all night, but having to fly back west from Germany to Texas, they were losing hours.
“Jet lag is the least of our worries,” Alik mumbled through half-closed eyes to his siblings. Farrow, Sloan and Creed had been listening, but for the most part, they’d hung back in the conversation, allowing the Winter children to discuss things without interruption.
Sloan wondered when she would stop being amazed at the close-knit sibling relationship she was witnessing. She knew everything there was to know about human and metahumans physiology, but when it came to the psychological aspect of each, she was realizing how ignorant she really was.
Farrow, who had been with the Winter family longer, was more accustomed to their easy banter with one another, though she still struggled with feeling like an outsider. Alik was sweet and worked very hard to make her feel included, but in the end, Farrow’s own self-doubt was what kept her at a distance, watching the love and devotion from the outside. Some very negative phrases jumbled through her mind at times like this. She would think, “I’m flawed, damaged. Everything I touch, I destroy.” Inwardly, she wondered how much longer these good people would stomach her company.
As for Creed, he’d been with the Winters the longest, though he still had no memory of much of that time. Like Farrow, he felt unworthy. But Creed was determined to do anything to get to stay with the girl of his dreams. Meg’s passion for her family, for life in general, was breathtaking to Creed. He loved her heart and saw her as a tiny powerhouse of strength and determination. Everything about the girl was admirable and made Creed want to be a man worthy of her. He would move heaven and earth to keep her safe. He stayed silent during the discussion out of respect. If he were asked, he would step up and take on anything handed to him. For now, he was more than content to hold Meg’s hand and watch over everyone like the sentry he was trained to be.
“Let�
�s sum up, shall we?” Alik was leaning back, his hands linked above his head, elbows out, as though soaking up some Texas sunlight instead of sitting in a cramped pasty-walled private plane.
“And this is only in chronological order, not order of importance, by any means,” he added by way of disclaimer.
“Cole is mangled in the hospital. Mom and Theo broke up. Our plans to end Williams flopped horribly. Slider turned in to some bad guy named ‘Miro.’ Gavil was killed in an awful shoot-out. Williams escaped because, and I still can’t wrap my head around this part, he’s a demon.” Alik sighed deeply and shook his head before continuing.
“Eleven of the twelve babies I saw in the basement of that vile hospital are still in the hands of that monster. Miro shot Mom in the back, repeatedly and she may be paralyzed, but there’s no way of knowing how bad off she is until we get back home. Oh, and this is the same home Williams was completely aware of and he and his sadistic second-in-command, Chaunders, could easily send in some real bad meta henchmen to kill us all. Have I forgotten anything?” His attempt at sarcasm missed as sadness eked too far into his voice.
“Um, yeah. We’ve adopted a little boy who could have serious post-traumatic stress disorder and none of us are equipped to deal with that,” Evan added logically.
Alik sighed deeply but cringed halfway through his inhale, his breath hitching painfully.
“Oh, and you probably have four or five cracked ribs,” Evan added.
Evan didn’t duck in time before a pillow whacked him upside the head.
Meg couldn’t help but smile through her exhaustion at her brothers. “Okay, fair enough. The attack on the Facility didn’t go as planned, but we know more about Williams than we ever have. Yes, we have suffered some tragedy,” Meg leaned closer to Creed, resting her head on his shoulder, “and we will all miss Gavil.” She paused, offering a silent prayer for Gavil’s soul before continuing.
Creed had to swallow hard as tears threatened to fall again for the loss of his brother.
At least he redeemed himself in the end, Creed told himself, taking solace in that truth.
He sighed deeply and turned to breathe Meg’s strawberry scent into his lungs and finding strength there.
Meg continued, “But we also gained Danny and Sloan. We destroyed the Facility’s Research Hospital before we left. And, on a personal note, my gift finally finished its evolution.”
Evan sat up and looked intently at his sister.
“What do you mean, Meg?”
“I mean, I was able to do one more thing before discovering how to refuel myself.”
“What?”
Meg replayed the events that occurred with the metasoldier, Laz. Creed’s body was ridged with fury when she got to the part where her captor behaved vulgarly. She reached out to hold both his hands and wrap them around her waist to help him calm down. Then she got to the part where she could project her energies, zapping those who touched her with feelings of anguish and despair before finally learning how to force her will on Laz, influencing him to do her will repeatedly, eventually escaping. When she got to the part of the story where she could channel Creed’s emotions and siphon energy from his connection to refuel her reserves, she felt him curl his body lovingly around hers and press a soft kiss to the top of her head.
Farrow found herself watching the couple and feeling pangs of envy curl around her heart. She tried not to stare at Alik during the conversation, but she couldn’t help wishing he was holding her the way Creed held Meg. Alik’s arms were hanging loose in his lap, his eyes fixed on his sister.
Farrow felt ignored, but in her heart, she would accept whatever attention he would give, when he was willing to give it. Her eyes dropped into her lap before she brought her knees up tightly against her chest and wrapped her arms around herself.
He has enough to worry about, Farrow, she scolded herself. Alik needs you to be strong. Be the soldier he can depend on. Nothing else matters now.
She sighed deeply, feeling resolved. Her role in the life of the man she had come to care for and respect was already defined, and there was no need to worry about anything more. With all that was happening, they might never get a chance to even try to get to know each other on a different level. One, or both of us, might very well die before this war is over. She flinched at the thought.
“What are we going to do about Williams?” Evan finally asked in the quiet of the cabin. Everyone knew they needed to deal with this topic, but were loath to do so.
“Meg, how are you feeling? Do you think you could give us a heads-up as to what’s going on with him?” Evan asked his sister.
“I’m sorry guys, but I’m beat. I need to rest more before I’ll be able to try that. I’m worried if I send out my feelers now, I’ll be too weak to pull out,” Meg admitted, disappointment in herself creasing her face. Maze, who had positioned himself right at Meg’s feet sat up and offered his sweet face by draping it over her legs.
“I know buddy,” Meg mumbled to her dear coyote. “I am worried about everything, too.”
“We need to call Theo. We’re going to need his help with Mom.” The look in Alik’s eyes was pained. “She needs to be our primary concern now. The rest of it will wait; either that or we’ll just have to deal with it as it comes up. Mom’s health takes precedence.”
“I think you’re right,” Meg agreed. “We need to call and let Theo know what’s happened. He’ll be able to help get access to the tests and equipment we don’t have at home. Besides, I am really worried Mom’s injury is,” Meg swallowed the huge lump that appeared from nowhere in her throat, “more severe than we’re prepared to manage ourselves.”
“So we’re agreed? We ask Theo for help?” Alik looked around the cabin. All eyes met his and everyone was murmuring in agreement.
“Okay,” he said, and reached out to grab one of the inflight phones. From his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet, slipped a prepaid card out, ran it through the scanner and dialed Dr. Andrews’ cell phone. He listened for the first ring and wondered what he was going to say to the man who’d done so much already for his family.
Chapter 19 Dr. Theo Andrews
The ICU room at the Dallas hospital to which his son was assigned was like any other. The hospital bed was the focus of the room and all around it were what most would recognize as common equipment an ICU would include: mechanical ventilator, cardiac monitor, drains, catheters and intravenous lines.
If he could look around and force himself to see everything strictly professionally, he would be much better off. During the light of day, he could pull off his clinical detachment, for the most part. He stood with his hands on his hips calculating and nodding as Cole’s doctors spoke to him just outside the ICU room. He offered ideas and suggestions as a talented and experienced ER doctor in his own right. He looked over the results of his son’s tests himself using his medical eye to interpret them.
So to the hospital community, he looked as though he was handling his son’s tragic car accident marvelously.
At least, the day nurses thought that.
The night nurses knew better.
He had always been of the opinion that if you want to truly know a person’s spirit, watch them after the sunlight has left every corner of the room and they are enveloped in darkness. Watch, wait, and see for yourself how thick their mask sits on their face. At night, tears of heartache and pain racked the middle-aged doctor until there were no more tears to cry.
Then he would stare, unblinking.
He would forget to breathe and find himself gasping periodically—his body’s desperate attempt to keep alive.
The body of his baby boy, his only child, lay motionless, except for the forced breaths from the mechanical ventilator.
Cole’s desperation over a girl had brought him to the brink once before, when he dosed himself with the Infinite serum. Now, heartbreak over that same girl was the catalyst that drove his son to this.
His sweet, gentle-hearted boy whose humo
r had made everyone around him smile.
And now look at him, Theo thought. My little boy.
Theo stared.
He couldn’t even bring himself to stand and pace the room, or flip on the television. No. His sleepless nights, sitting alone in the dark with his unconscious and broken boy was all he had and there was no easing his pain.
Margo left him.
The love of his life, the woman he was dreaming of marrying, walked out of those doors and didn’t even look back, even after everything they’d been through together.
Theo leaned forward and held his head in his hands.
I just don’t get it, he thought for the hundredth time. I don’t understand how she could throw her hands up and walk away from me when I needed her the most. She knows I would move heaven and earth for her. She knew how upset I was at seeing Cole so hurt. Why couldn’t she just listen?
Theo yanked his wire-rimmed glasses off his face and rubbed the exhaustion in his eyes.
Cole had only been in the ICU for three days, but they felt like a lifetime. Cole suffered a fractured skull, a broken collarbone and multiple fractures throughout his ribs one of which lacerated his liver. He also shattered his right knee. On top of all that, he had suffered multiple lacerations all over his head, face and neck from hitting then flying through the windshield on impact. He was kept in a drug-induced coma while they were trying to give his body time to respond to treatment.
Staring down at his empty, shaking hands, Theo realized there was a certain horror to watching his life explode.
The cell phone he kept on its charger across the room began to vibrate across the laminate surface of the table there. For a moment, Theo considered not even going to see who would be calling him at eleven at night, but his ingrained sense of responsibility got the better of him. He stood and shuffled, exhausted to the phone. And just before he reached out to flip the screen over so he could see the caller ID, he felt a rush of panic. Something horrible happened; he knew it in his gut.
Winter's Warrior: Mark of the Monarch (Winter's Saga #4) Page 9