by Becca Van
Wen shook his head and turned back to look at his mate’s face. She was so damn pale and fragile looking, but he knew she was anything but, at least any other time, however, right now she looked like a broken doll. Her red hair was a stark contrast against her white almost translucent skin. He could even see the blue veins in her neck.
“We need to get her into bed.” Mit carefully moved his arms beneath Krysta and although Wen didn’t want to relinquish her, he let his friend stand without fighting him. The sooner they got their mate to bed the sooner she would be cuddled between both of them. He needed her skin against his so he would know beyond a shadow of a doubt she was still alive.
Hopefully after she’d rested and she awoke they would be able to share their blood with her to help her heal faster. Until she opened her eyes, her body was going to have to go through the slow process of healing itself. Wen had never been more thankful that Krysta had agreed to strengthen the mating bond between them. If she hadn’t, she may not be breathing any longer.
Wen followed Mit toward the hall, stopped at the entrance, and turned to meet the gazes of all his friends. “Thank you for trying to help us and for staying with us.”
The other men just nodded but the women smiled at him before they all turned to leave. Wen hurried down the hall and entered Mit’s bedroom.
“Help me get her clothes off. We need to clean her up. I don’t want her to be reminded of what she went through the moment she opens her eyes.”
Wen nodded, walked to the other side of the bed, and between the two of them, stripped Krysta’s ruined bloody clothes from her body. He turned toward the bathroom, filled a large bowl with warm water, grabbed two washcloths and a fresh towel, and headed back.
Mit took the cloth from Wen and they got to work. When they had finished cleaning Krysta, they wrapped her in Mit’s robe and then Wen lifted her from the bed into his arms and cradled her against his chest.
Mit made quick work of stripping the bloody covers from the bed and after remaking it with fresh sheets and a comforter, Wen reluctantly laid her in the middle of the mattress. He shucked his shoes and shirt and climbed in beside his mate. Mit did the same.
* * * *
Mit had so much rage inside of him he was worried if he opened his mouth and started yelling he wouldn’t be able to stop. He wanted to curse Ra and all the gods but for what his mate had been through. Most of all, he wanted to hunt down Apep into the bowels of hell and kill the fucker. He wasn’t sure if he had the strength to even take the prick out but he would love the chance to try.
He would have to go and talk to En and Men and see if they remembered how they got into hell. If they could tell him he would face the evil snake god alone. Of course he knew that Wen wouldn’t allow him to do such a thing and neither would the others, but he would love to try.
He was sick and tired of all the fighting. Fighting millennium after millennium was so wearing on his soul he didn’t know if he could take much more. He glanced over at Krysta and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. His heart filled with love and warmth and he sighed with resignation. He would fight for eternity if it meant he was able to live with his mate by his side.
“Her throat’s healing.” Wen whispered.
“How can you tell?”
“The whistle’s gone.”
Mit leaned over, placing his ear close to Krysta’s mouth and throat. “You’re right. Thank god.”
“I hate that we couldn’t help her, protect her.”
“Me, too.” Mit sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Do you think she’s going to baulk at having to take some of our blood?” Wen asked.
“I hope not. She’s going to need it when she wakes up. If she doesn’t she won’t be going out to fight with us. She’s been hurt enough. I don’t want her ever getting hurt again and she’s going to feel a little weak until the blood she’s lost replenishes.”
“Yeah,” Wen sighed.
Mit hoped Krysta wouldn’t fight them when they tried to give her blood. She needed to be at full strength to fight the demonic but there was no way she was going out with them if she refused.
Mit had a feeling they were going to have a fight on their hands.
* * * *
Krysta was so tired her bones were aching. Even though she was asleep, she felt as if she were drifting on a gray cloud. Her body was slowly healing but she knew it could be hours if not days before she was back at full strength. She hated the thought of sitting out another fight with the demonic but she wasn’t stupid and didn’t have a death wish.
She was warm and comfortable for the most part, and she could feel Mit and Wen’s concern through their mating bond. In fact she had felt them with her the entire time she’d been fighting the demon shadows and Apep. What she hadn’t counted on was the fact that the snake god had been able to block them from feeling her. Not that it mattered anymore. She’d won, this round at least.
Krysta wished she knew how many demonic there were still in hell or hunting humans to steal souls from, but she knew she would never find the answer to that question. Again, it didn’t really matter. She and the other sentinels would fight for all of eternity if they had to. There was no way they would walk away and let Apep and his minions win his plot to conquer human beings. Not while she was alive.
She felt warmth wash over her face and while her eyes were still closed, her surroundings brightened. The moment she felt the presence she forced her lids up and she gasped when she saw the incredibly tall, very muscular man standing before her with his arms crossed over his chest.
She couldn’t believe how big his biceps were. They had to be bigger than her thighs. Although he was handsome, she didn’t feel an ounce of attraction toward him, which was good in her opinion. She only ever wanted to feel sexual attraction for her mates. As she thought of Mit and Wen again, she felt their worry and wished she could tell them that she was fine, but no matter how hard she tried to wake up, she was too tired to do it.
“You fought well, my daughter.” The deep booming voice startled her and it took every ounce of her control not to flinch.
Krysta had a feeling she knew who was standing before her and thought she should have been at least a little nervous but she wasn’t. In fact as she stared at him she began to get angry.
“Why the hell can’t you just snap your fingers and get rid of them?”
He sighed and took a step closer. Krysta held her ground and mimicked his stance, crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes at him.
He surprised her by tipping his head back and letting out a full-bellied laugh. He was so loud he made her eardrums reverberate.
“Do you have to be so loud?” Krysta asked with a frown as she finally lifted her hands to cover her aching ears.
“Sorry,” he gave her a chagrined smile. “You are so beautiful.”
Krysta lowered her hands and took a step back.
“There’s no need to be scared.” The smile slid from his face.
Krysta uncrossed her arms and planted them on her hips, shoving her chin in the air as she tilted her head back to meet his golden gaze. “Do I look scared to you?”
“Not in the least, but I expected nothing less.”
Krysta frowned at the cryptic remark and lowered her arms to her sides.
“If you come closer I can heal the rest of your injuries.” He took one giant step with his long legs stopping within touching distance but he didn’t make a move to reach for her.
“Why is this happening? Why can’t you just wipe them all from the bowels of hell and the face of the earth?”
“Because it’s not my job. I have rules that must be followed, too. Just because I’m a god doesn’t mean I can do what I like, when I like.”
“So what are you allowed to do?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Let me guess, if you told me, then you’d have to kill me.”
He chuckled before answering. “Something like that.”
&n
bsp; “So can you tell me, us, anything?”
“That depends on the question.”
Krysta sighed with frustration. As soon as she opened her mouth and asked one question, his response added another ten questions to the tip of her tongue.
“We have to do it, don’t we?”
He didn’t answer or gesture, just stood staring into her eyes.
“Damn it. Can’t you at least nod or shake your head?”
“If I did I would be punished.”
“Who’s your boss?”
“You don’t know?”
Krysta spun away and began to pace. She looked down and was surprised to see she was dressed in her usual dark clothes, the ones she wore when she was fighting the demon shadows. She didn’t even remember standing up. She mentally shrugged her shoulders. Those things were inconsequential.
She spun back around and walked toward him. Her brain was going sixty miles an hour as she remembered what he’d called her. Had he been literal or had he been generalizing when he called her his daughter?
No, that just isn’t possible, Krysta.
Surely if it was true he would have stepped in when her mother had gone off the rails. A father wouldn’t leave his daughter to fend for herself when she had no one to care for her as a child. Would he?
“Come and sit down.” He held his hand out to her and even though she wanted to place her hand in his, she hesitated. He sighed, lowered his hand, and turned his back on her. He walked away and it was only then that her surroundings came into view.
They were in a sort of pavilion, marble columns at each corner holding up the white marble roof. Sheer curtains billowed in the warm breeze and the sky beyond was so blue with pure white, fluffy clouds breaking up the color.
Krysta looked over at him and sighed. She couldn’t find it in herself not to go to him. There was something connecting them and it was high time she found out what it was. She sat in the low, massive leather chair across from him and waited.
His eyes perused her face as if he were committing her features to memory and while it was hard for her to remain still, not to squirm or break the silence, she kept her mouth shut and her body relaxed.
“You look so much like your mother.”
Krysta’s heart stuttered before slamming against her chest and picking up speed. She gasped in air and licked her dry lips. Her mouth was so dry she knew if she tried to swallow she would end up gulping audibly.
She stared at him and waited, too shocked to voice all the questions running around in her mind, but the hardest thing to do was swallow the anger building and burning in her chest.
She studied his face, not really shocked when she noticed that his eyes were shaped the same way hers were. His chin was stronger and squarer but there was no way she could deny his parentage.
“She looked so much like you when I met her. So full of life and love. I tried to stay away but I couldn’t. She was a fire in my blood and heart and no matter how hard I tried to keep her from entering my mind, it wasn’t possible.”
“What… Why…”
He shook his head and when he met her gaze again, there was so much sorrow in his eyes she felt for him, but her anger was greater than her compassion right now.
“Where did you meet her?”
“She had just finished work, was walking home along a trail to the cabin that was her home. I had been watching my sentinels from a distance as they fought the demonic and when I caught sight of her red hair, I had to follow. She was so young and innocent and I was worried the demonic would target her. She saw me and when she smiled at me, I was a goner.
“I didn’t know she’d conceived. If I had I would have made sure she was provided for, that both of you had what she needed to look after both of you.”
Krysta bit her lip as tears burned her eyes. The pain and sadness in his gaze caused a lump of emotion to form in her chest and she had difficulty swallowing.
“I only found out that you existed when you started fighting the shadow demons.” His deep voice was hoarse and she could hear the tears in his voice, though they didn’t show in his golden gaze.
“She died,” Krysta managed to get out from a throat that felt as if it was being strangled again.
He nodded. “I know. She’s happy and at peace now.”
“You’ve seen her?” Krysta asked and swiped impatiently at the tear that leaked from the corner of her eye.
He shook his head. “No. One of the angels told me after I asked my boss if I could meet you.”
“When was that?”
“After the first night you fought the demonic.”
Krysta sighed and pressed her fingers into her aching eyes.
“She never knew what I was, but I think she knew I was more than human.”
“Did you love her?”
“I think it was more of mutual admiration than love. I respected her greatly. If I’d known she wasn't strong of heart and soul, I never would have touched her. She had an inner light I just couldn’t resist touching. If we’d been able to spend more than an instant in time together, I think I would have fallen in love with her and hopefully her with me, but it wasn’t meant to be. I would have walked away if I'd known how my being with her would have affected her.
“She wasn’t as strong as you are. Her parents kicked her out when she found out she was pregnant and she lost her way.”
“How do you know that?”
“Gabriel told me.”
“The archangel?”
He nodded.
Krysta’s anger dissipated. She couldn’t blame him for what her childhood had been, nor that her mother had died. How could she when he hadn’t known she’d even existed?
“So how come you’re allowed to talk to me now?” Krysta asked.
He shrugged and she had a feeling he was breaking the rules. If he could break one rule, why couldn’t he break another and tell her more?
When he stood, she did, too. He just stood there staring at her and although her heart was still harboring a little anger, she couldn’t leave without touching him. She needed to know.
Krysta took one step toward him and then another. Before she knew it she was wrapped up in his arms with her cheek pressed against his lower chest, just below his sternum. Her heart broke for him and for the little girl she’d been. The moment his arms wrapped around her she felt his sorrow, but she also felt his love.
She had a father and he loved her with his whole heart and soul. Tears welled and rolled down her face and though she tried to hold them back the dam burst.
He held her while she sobbed, one of his hands stroking over her head and hair, the other holding her with such gentleness and love the emotions roiling inside of her couldn’t be contained. She cried so hard she could barely draw a breath, but by the time the tears slowed she felt as if a huge weight had lifted from her shoulders.
She had a father and he loved her.
Chapter Twelve
“When the hell is she going to wake up?” Mit growled as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“How the hell should I know?” Wen snapped back.
Mit paced beside the bed, not caring if he wore a track in the carpet. He hated that Krysta was out cold. For two nights and almost three days he and Wen had been locked in the bedroom hoping their mate would open her eyes. What was worse was when she’d been crying in her sleep. His gut was one big tumultuous knot because he had no idea whether she was locked in the underworld in her mind. For all they knew she could be fighting for her life and they would never know.
“I can’t take much more of this.” Mit finally sat on the side of the bed and stared at Krysta’s gorgeous face. The others had been in and out of the room on a regular basis but nothing they said or did had any effect on how he felt. He just wanted his mate to wake up.
“She seems more peaceful today. She hasn’t moaned or cried out and there haven’t been any tears.” Wen glanced at him before he stroked a finger down Krysta’s face.
Mit shoved to his feet again. “I feel so fucking useless.” That was what bothered him the most, that he couldn’t go to Krysta in her dreams and help her fight whatever it was she was fighting. He finally let his frustration out, howling loudly with rage and fear, his head in his hands.
“Do you have to be so loud?”
Mit spun around and stared at Krysta. Her eyes were still closed but the corners of her mouth were curved up as if she was trying not to smile.
“Krysta.” Wen’s voice was so quiet Mit wouldn’t have heard him if not for their enhanced hearing.
“Krysta!” Mit leapt onto the bed, lifting her from the mattress and into his arms. He pulled her tight against his body, hoping he wasn’t hurting her in his almost crushing grip, but he couldn’t make himself let her go.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against his throat. Wen came up behind her and hugged her waist, breathing in deeply, taking in her scent. Mit was doing the same. She smelt so good, warm woman and home. He hoped that she never had to go through what she just had ever again. His heart couldn’t take it.
“Are you all right?” Wen kissed her neck before cupping her face and turning her head toward him.
“I’m fine.”
Mit loosened his hold reluctantly when she nudged his shoulder. The moment he let her go she crawled over into Wen’s lap.
“I’m sorry if I scared you.”
“That’s an understatement,” Mit said in a hoarse voice. “You’ve been out of it for almost three days.”
“What?” Krysta’s eyes were wide with shock and she shook her head.
“We were so worried about you.” Wen kissed her lips.
“What the hell happened?” Mit blurted out.
“Nothing bad,” Krysta said cryptically. “Let me get a shower and something to eat. I’m starving. I promise to tell you everything but it would be better if I only have to tell it once. The others are going to want to hear this, too.”
“Okay,” Mit said with reluctance.
“I promise to be quick.” Krysta scrambled from Wen’s lap, smiling, and winked at them before disappearing into the bathroom.