Briar

by Ripley Proserpina

  Did he? Or a better question might be—could he? He would be truly committing to his brothers again, and reforming the family that had split apart so long ago. His heart ached, and he rubbed his chest. He’d barely survived Annie’s death and their separation, even though he’d been the first to leave.

  All his life, Sylvain had lost. As a human, he’d lost his wife and child, and then he’d lost his humanity. When Asher turned him and he found three brothers and eternal life, he’d thought he was set.

  Then the bloodlust had faded, like it did with all newly made, and he faced what he’d done in that state, grateful he’d had brothers to keep him from the worst of his potential.

  Could Sylvain take the leap, again? Throw in his lot with his brothers and Briar and accept there was the possibility of losing them all? A flicker of hope wound its way around Sylvain’s heart. “Yeah. I want.”

  Marcus lowered his gaze, shaking his head and clearing his throat. Vampires didn’t cry, but if they could, Marcus had a feeling his brother would be leaking. “You can have the couch.”

  “Asshole,” he muttered. “We need to go back to the hospital if you’re done dicking around.”

  Marcus leapt from the stairs, throwing an arm around his neck and nailing him in the stomach with a closed fist. The breath huffed out of Sylvain, and with a lot less strength than he could have used, he threw Marcus into the hall where he hit the wall.

  “Were you hitting me or kissing me?” Marcus asked.

  Sylvain opened the door. “Are you done?”

  “Nope.” Marcus popped the last sound of the word but closed the door and locked it behind him. Out in daylight, his demeanor changed, as if he remembered what they needed to do and what was still ahead of him. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 18

  Briar

  Briar groaned, her throat burning.

  “Here’s some water. Open up.” Hudson’s voice was as cool as the water that dripped into her mouth. Parched tissues absorbed every drop of moisture. She flopped her head toward him and moaned. The pull along her neck reminded her of the surgery. Her throat ached from the breathing tube. Something smooth touched her lips, tracing their contours, and she opened her eyes. Hudson’s gaze was glued to her mouth as he traced it with balm.

  “Thanks.” Her voice was nothing like she was used to hearing. He capped the lip balm, and smiled.

  “Here.” A straw touched her lips, and she sucked greedily.

  Each moment that passed, her head cleared and she became more alert. The room was dark, but she could make out the guys’ forms. “If I’m Dorothy, who are you?” she joked and coughed, choking on the water.

  “Go slow,” Hudson replied. “Obviously, Marcus is the scarecrow.”

  Sylvain huffed, and she smiled. “Did it work?”

  “So far so good,” Hudson assured her. “You’ll stay here overnight, they’ll take a look at it tomorrow, and we’ll go from there.”

  She nodded and immediately regretted it. “Am I hideous?”

  Hudson’s blue eyes, usually so icy, softened. “Hardly.”

  “Overnight?” she asked. God, how she hated being back in the hospital. It never changed. The antiseptic smell, the weird-tasting water, the constant noise that irritated her already on-edge senses.

  “Two, possibly.” Tone dry, Briar got the sense Hudson wouldn’t tolerate any deviating from the timetable he expected.

  Glancing at each of them, Briar was struck by how comfortable they all seemed. Sylvain held the wall up, while Valen leaned, elbows on knees at the edge of his seat. Marcus stood, hands in pockets, following her exchange with Hudson. None of the tension she noted before her surgery was present now.

  “What time is it?” she asked. One of the other things she didn’t miss about hospitals was how there seemed to be no night or day. The only thing to really distinguish the passage of time was the nurses’ shift changes.

  This room had no windows to the outside, which she appreciated. She didn’t have to worry about an overworked or distracted nurse opening the curtains to let in the sunshine. Absentmindedly, she rubbed a small smooth spot on her thumb, the result of a hospital stay as a child, and shade-opening ‘consideration.’

  Marcus glanced at his watch. “One in the morning.”

  Guilt swamped her. “Aren’t you tired?”

  “No,” Sylvain answered. “I took a nap while you were in surgery.” The last part was added on as an afterthought that didn’t ring true.

  “Hmm.” She raised her eyebrows. “Did…” She paused, choosing her next words carefully. “Have you heard anything from the police about my apartment?”

  From his chair, Valen’s head jerked up, and he pinned Marcus with a stare. “Yeah. Did we?”

  Eyes narrowed, Marcus slowly shook his head. “No. Which is strange.”

  Briar dug her fingertips into the sheets. “I don’t remember if they asked me anything in the ambulance. Sylvain, do you remember?”

  “No,” Sylvain answered. “They didn’t ask you anything. The paramedics didn’t anyway, and no one has been here asking anything since I’ve been here.”

  “They haven’t,” Hudson confirmed. “I’ll call in the morning. They’re probably letting you get the medical care you need before interviewing you. I’m sure they’ll be by. If not here, then in the next few days.”

  “Someone wanted to hurt me.” It was hard for her to comprehend. Her condition wasn’t a secret, but she’d been in Boston only a week. The only people who knew about it, besides the admissions department at BC, were Hudson, Valen, and Marcus. A little voice inside her squeaked the question, asking if she believed they’d torn the curtains from her windows while she slept.

  As soon as the voice spoke, a much louder, much surer part of her mind shut it down. Stamped it down, actually. Stamped it, and then picked it up and threw it against a wall and hit it with a shovel. No. No way. She didn’t believe they had anything to do with what happened.

  “Maybe it was a prank,” Marcus spoke and winced.

  “It wasn’t funny, but it’s possible. Do you think someone in admissions let it slip and some kids thought it’d be hilarious? Like, I’ve read about people hazing people with peanut allergies with peanut butter. Maybe it was something like that.”

  “I believe,” Sylvain started, “I believe whoever did this, wanted to send a message.”

  Briar snorted. “Yeah. I get it. I live in a shitty apartment and it was easy to pick the locks. Wait.” Thinking back to the morning, she tried to remember if her door had been open. “It was. But I had to let them in downstairs. So whoever did this…” Her stomach roiled, and not from the surgery. “Someone got in and out. Locked my door before they left. That’s so creepy.” It was more than creepy, but that was about as deep as she could get given the circumstances.

  “Not to be unkind, Briar, but anyone with a credit card and a toothpick could get into that apartment,” Marcus stated.

  “I remember your opinion, Marcus,” she said. Nothing could have hidden his horror at her tiny, sweet walkup. That apartment was the embodiment of her freedom, and she loved it.

  “It wasn’t so bad,” Valen said, meeting her eyes and smiling.

  “Thank you, Valen,” Briar said. “You get ten points.”

  “For what?” he asked, confused.

  “For Gryffindor.”

  “I’m so confused.” Valen glanced at Sylvain for an explanation, but the huge man only shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what a Gryffindor is.”

  “You didn’t even see inside, Valen,” Marcus argued.

  “And I’m deducting fifty points,” she said to him.

  “Why award Valen ten points if you’re just going to take fifty away?” Marcus crossed his arms. Smart ass.

  “Because they weren’t deducted from Gryffindor.” She leaned forward a little, ignoring the pain and fatigue beginning to make themselves known. “I deducted them from Slytherin.”

  “Hey!” Marcus choked, offend
ed.

  Hudson burst out laughing, reaching for Briar’s hand and squeezing it tightly. “You’re Slytherin.” He pointed at Marcus with his free hand and started to talk, but Briar didn’t hear what he said. She was too focused on his hand wrapped around hers, and his thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand. When she thought he’d let go, he didn’t. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, and stroked her hair out of her face. “You look tired.”

  “I am,” she answered. “The medicine.”

  “And healing,” he said.

  “And healing.”

  “Go to sleep.” Hudson looked over at his brothers and then back at her. “We’re in for the night.”

  “Are you sure?” They made her feel safe. Earlier, they’d put her to sleep with their playful banter, and now, their physical presence comforted her. She swore they had a scent, something she couldn’t put her finger on, that reminded her of home.

  Yawning, she let her eyes close, not even waiting for Hudson’s answer. If he said they’d stay, they would, and they’d stand between her and anything that tried to hurt her.

  ✽✽✽

  Two days passed, and the room burst at the seams with guys. Guys who were brothers, and who fought at the drop of a hat, and whose natural state appeared to be elbows out, balls-to-the-wall.

  But Briar enjoyed every second of it. She’d never laughed as much as she did when Marcus gave them all online quizzes to find out which celebrity they should take to prom or which nineties-era boyband they were.

  Sylvain was taking Ryan Gosling.

  They also had moments of quiet when no one had anything to say and they sat contentedly. None of them took out their phones; they were happy to sit with their thoughts, something Briar hadn’t seen before, and struggled with at first. She was never without her phone, and used it as a crutch from boredom, but she had plenty to think about now.

  Like, how kind Valen was. The first morning, she awoke to find he’d snuck out for breakfast so she didn’t have to eat the hospital food. He did the same at lunch, and dinner, though Sylvain tagged along with him for dinner.

  “He wants some of the accolades you’ve been heaping on Valen,” Marcus had stage-whispered as they left, causing Sylvain to flip his middle finger over his shoulder and close the door with what Hudson called extra emphasis.

  And Hudson. He would often break out of thought with random ideas and direct them at her. “What do you know about heme B?” It took her a second, because at first she thought he was talking to Marcus. But he’d stared at her and waited, and she’d realized, he wants to know what I think. They talked science and EPP until she was having trouble keeping her eyes open, and Marcus made a comment about never seeing science excite anyone so much.

  When the doctor came to check on her, the guys gathered closer, listening intently as he examined the graft and pronounced her healing well.

  Slowly, but well.

  Hudson agreed with him about staying an extra night, even though Briar argued against it.

  She didn’t want to stay here longer than she needed to. Sure, Sylvain and Marcus brought her pajamas so she wasn’t stuck in a hospital gown, but she still hadn’t showered, and she was probably gross.

  And that was the other thing. Every so often, she’d catch one of the guys staring at her with something she couldn’t name.

  Well, she could name it, but she couldn’t believe it would apply to her.

  The guys were older than her, not by a lot, but Briar’d been reading Hudson’s research papers for seven years, which meant he was at least thirty, and Marcus had an aura of sophistication that most twenty-somethings didn’t.

  Sylvain and Valen were likely in their twenties, but at times, they’d speak a certain way which had her second-guessing her estimate. Guys like them were interested in women, not graduate students who hadn’t managed to make it to their first college class.

  Why, then, did her stomach flutter when Valen’s eyes crinkled with laughter, or when Sylvain lifted one side of his lips in a semi-smile?

  The morning of the second day, Briar was ready.

  Valen brought her breakfast, but her stomach was too nervous to eat. She wanted to leave, get back to her apartment, and go to class.

  “I have a night class,” she told Marcus when he lifted his eyebrows at her pronouncement. “I’m feeling up for it. In fact, I’m going to go crazy if I have to stay in bed another minute!”

  “You may be tired by the time it rolls around,” he said. “Just see how you feel. Hudson let your professors know what was going on. You have a doctor’s note, so you’re not penalized for being absent.”

  “I know.” She’d thanked Hudson repeatedly, but smiled at him again in gratitude. “I’m lucky, but I want to go. I’ve been waiting to do this. Imagine if it was Christmas, but you woke up Christmas morning, and instead of presents, your parents gave you a picture of your presents. And it was everything you wanted, but you had to wait to get them. Every day you woke up, not sure if that was the day you got everything you wanted. This is my Christmas, and I can’t wait anymore.”

  Sylvain gave her his half-smile. “I don’t know that I’ve heard school compared to Christmas before.” He glanced over at Hudson, who shook his head.

  “No,” Hudson agreed. “Definitely not typical.”

  Briar dragged the elastic out of her hair to gather the greasy strands back into a ponytail. “And I want a shower and to sleep in my own bed.”

  “Fair enough,” Marcus said. “I understand.”

  The doctor arrived at that moment, and Briar clenched her hands anxiously. He asked the same questions and had her do the same motions as the day before, but it all filtered to her through a haze. Her throat burned, and she hoped if he told her she couldn’t go home yet, she didn’t start bawling in front of everyone.

  “I think you’re good,” the doctor said, typing into his laptop. “I’ll send the nurse in, and you can get going. Cover the wound with plastic when you shower, no pools, no heavy lifting. Do you have a pharmacy or do you need the hospital to make up your prescriptions?”

  “The hospital,” Briar said, groaning internally because it would mean more time before she could leave.

  Nodding sharply, the doctor wrote something else down and left without another word.

  “It’s a good thing he is adept at his job,” Valen said, glaring at the door. “Because the man is not polite.”

  “I’m sure he’s busy,” Briar replied and cleared her throat. “Could one of you drop me at home? Would you mind?”

  Marcus nodded, but Sylvain sucked in a breath, causing Briar to peer at him in confusion. He and Marcus had a moment of staring—a loaded, silent conversation which ended when Sylvain looked away. “Everything okay? You don’t have to, if you had plans together. I can take the T.”

  “No,” Sylvain answered. “It’s not that.”

  “I’m going to get my car,” Marcus announced. “I’ll meet you all out front.”

  Sylvain stared after him, open-mouthed, and Briar got the sense, as Marcus high-tailed it out of the room, he was trying to escape.

  “I’m going to get my things,” she said, and slid out of bed to go to the bathroom. Once there, she stared with horror at her reflection. The sunburn had faded but left her splotchy. Dark, bruised skin made circles beneath her eyes, and her hair, which she’d tried to tame into a neat ponytail, was bumpy, and greasy. “Oh, my God.”

  The guys’ gorgeous faces flashed in her mind, and she giggled. What she’d thought was interest was definitely not that. No one could look at her right now and say she was anything but a train wreck.

  “You okay?” Valen’s concerned voice came through the closed door.

  “Yeah,” she answered and turned on the water. She brushed her teeth and combed her hair, slicking it with water away from her face and neck. It wasn’t a flattering hairstyle, revealing her bandage and the scars along her throat and collarbones.

  Her long hair functioned as a shield
, one she could pull around her face if anyone stared at her too long. But her choices were limited. She could either showcase her scars or leave her hair in stringy mats around her face.

  At least pulled back into a bun, she could have a semblance of being put together. She soaked a washcloth, gently cleaning her face and then patted it dry before leaving the bathroom. Marcus was gone, and the room was empty of everyone except Hudson and the nurse, who met her arrival with a smile.

  “Here are your prescriptions,” she said, handing Briar a paper bag. “I’ve explained everything to your brother.”

  Briar drew her brows together and wrinkled her nose. Huh? “Thank you,” Hudson said, smoothly interrupting anything she might say to the contrary. “You’re ready?”

  “I am,” she answered, and held up the small plastic bag holding her hairbrush and toothbrush.

  He opened the door for her, waiting for her to slide her feet into her sneakers, set the hat on her head, grab her gloves, and follow him.

  The nurses waved goodbye as they left the wing, a few of them staring a little longer than necessary at Hudson, but who could blame them? Briar was sure she’d had the same look on her face a few times, especially when he started talking about enzymes. The most she could hope for was that she hadn’t drooled at any of the guys while watching them.

  Hudson led her effortlessly through the hospital, keeping them to windowless hallways that were nearly empty. Briar was hopelessly turned around. She’d never have found her way through without him.

  “Where’s Marcus?” she asked, and he pointed to the glass fronted entrance before touching her shoulder to hold her back.

  “Got your glasses?” he asked, and she slid the oversized sunglasses she held in her hands onto her face.

  A black SUV with heavily tinted windows sat at the curb, hazard lights flashing. The door opened, and Valen waved from inside.

  “Ready?” Hudson asked, and her stomach clenched.

  It was a short distance, twenty feet at most, and she was covered. Would she ever come not to fear the sun? “This sucks,” she whispered, and Hudson took her hand.