Immortally Yours, An Urban Fantasy Romance (Monster MASH, Book 1)

by fox, angie

  He laughed.

  "Admit it," I said, knowing I'd hit close to the truth. "You want to save the world and everyone in it."

  He shrugged, denying nothing. "What's wrong with that?"

  It was impossible. He should know that by now.

  He needed to get it through his head. "I don't need saving. Not anymore." This wasn't like the minefield where I was caught alone and completely off guard. "I live with a vampire and a werewolf."

  "Good," he said, sounding genuinely pleased. "I can't wait to meet them."

  This I had to see. "Really?"

  He seemed slightly offended. "Yes. Really. I'd be glad to have help, provided your friends can actually protect you from old god assassins."

  I wasn't so sure I believed that. Galen didn't seem like the type to let go easily.

  "This is going to be fun," I said as we headed for the tar swamp. Arguing with the man was like fighting a series of small battles—ones I kept losing. I glanced up at him. "And you'd better mean it when you said you'd let them protect me, too. I don't want you giving my roommates some kind of a test they can't pass."

  He seemed mildly surprised at that. "Just the opposite. I'm on your side."

  Not if he knew what I was hiding.

  I could smell the faint trace of garlic wafting from the mess tent as we trudged together in silence. Tonight must have been spaghetti night.

  "I want you to have your freedom," Galen said.

  He was talking about more than a walk home.

  I stared straight ahead, hands shoved into the pockets of my scrubs. The fingers of my right hand curled around the knife. I could feel him watching me.

  We walked through the maze of low-slung hutches.

  I was used to being alone. I had it figured out. Anything else? Well, I didn't know what to think.

  The closest friend I had was Rodger. He cared. But he'd also drop me like a hot rock if he could. I didn't blame him. Rodger had a family he loved—a wife and kids, relatives, a clan. I'd feel the same if I were him.

  Sexy club music thumped from my hutch, and the lights were on. At least Marius was around. Galen would soon see the vampire I had at my disposal. I only hoped Marius wasn't wearing his black silk robe with the butterflies.

  I barged in the door. "Lucy, I'm home!"

  "Yeek!" Marius yanked the bedcovers around him as the vampire underneath him disappeared in a puff of silver smoke.

  Too late I noticed the candles and the half-drunk champagne glasses of blood.

  The corner of my mouth tipped up. "Marius, you old devil." I was glad to see he had some company.

  The vampire hissed, fangs out. "Do you mind?"

  "We used to hang a sock on the door," Galen said.

  "No kidding," I said. "Wait, you have women on the Limbo Front?" Not that I didn't want him to date. But really, I didn't like the idea of him hanging out with other women.

  "This was in basic," Galen said, planting a hand on the doorjamb.

  Okay. Well that was a long time ago. "Ancient Greeks," I said, shrugging it off. I'd heard they liked to party.

  "Nah." He played with the rough wood. "Siege of Rhodes."

  "You don't say." That's right. He was only about five hundred years old.

  "Do you even care that I'm here?" Marius was about ready to start spitting bullets. He had the covers yanked up to his neck and was shimmying into a pair of boxer shorts.

  "Did you even think before you stumbled into here like a couple of drunken sailors?"

  "Hey," I said. "I'm sorry. We had no idea."

  "No sock on the door," Galen added.

  Exactly. "Besides, I need you to protect me."

  The vampire flipped a lock of blond hair out of his face and gave me a look like I had to be kidding.

  In all fairness, it probably wasn't the best way to ask for a favor. Marius's eyes grew wide as we explained about the giant scorpions. I wondered just how much fighting versus nightclubbing he'd done in his former life.

  Then again, I didn't want to get in to that in front of Galen.

  "Now that you can see I'm quite safe here," I said to my studly protector-wannabe, "let's get you dressed."

  Galen had done enough parading around camp in nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms—and make no mistake, Galen was going back.

  Marius stood in a pair of black silk boxers, arms crossed over his chest. "Don't look at me."

  He was too lanky anyway.

  Rodger wouldn't mind lending a few things. I cracked open his footlocker. At least a dozen little dinosaurs scattered, their black scales gleaming in the lanternlight. "Dang it, Rodger."

  "What?" Marius asked, a little too curious.

  "Nothing." Rodger had told me he only had six. Those things had better not be breeding in there. I slammed the footlocker closed and went for Rodger's beat-up brown side table.

  I yanked out a drawer and grabbed a white T-shirt from the top of the heap. Rodger needed to learn how to fold. "Here," I said, handing the shirt to Galen.

  And yes, I watched his muscular forearms and chest as he dragged it over his head.

  I'm not made of steel.

  Only when Galen pulled it down did I see that the shirt read world's greatest lover.

  "A little premature, don't you think?" he asked, grinning.

  "Oh please," I said, returning to the drawer. "Take this, too." I shoved an orange-and-brown shawl at him.

  "I like it." He winked. "Only because I know you'll enjoy watching me put it on."

  The man was insufferable.

  Thank heaven the shawl was big as a tent, obviously knitted by Rodger's wife.

  The furry monstrosity covered him like a tarp. Now Galen looked half yeti. Perfect.

  Meanwhile Marius was walking around the room, blowing out candles and draining the remaining blood from the glasses. He used one hand to lift the cast-iron stove in the middle of our hut and glared at me as he snatched up a handful of condoms from underneath.

  I hadn't realized Marius was such an optimist.

  Or a poor planner. Those condoms would have been hard to reach from the bed.

  Galen, as usual, missed nothing. "He is strong."

  "He is something," I agreed.

  "Vain as well," Galen said, inspecting the mirrors over Marius's bed.

  "Hey, I hadn't noticed those," I said. Marius must have dug them out special tonight. I couldn't help but whistle.

  "You are so immature," the vampire glowered.

  I cocked my head. "Have you met the rest of the people in this camp?"

  Galen grudgingly inspected the boards of the hutch. "He can't protect you as well as I can," he said, "but you're in a highly populated camp. I suppose you'll be safe enough."

  I drew my hand to my chest. "Oh my goodness. A man with an open mind."

  His eyes caught mine. "Give me a chance. I'm full of surprises." He paused at the door. "I have one last favor to ask."

  "I knew it."

  He gave me a long look. "Come say good-bye before you try to ship me out again."

  I'd say one thing for Galen. He was good at getting his point across. "I'll come see you."

  He nodded. There was nothing more to say. I was on the home stretch. Sure, I still had some kind of enchanted knife in my pocket, but once Galen was gone, I could deal with that.

  Soon everything would be back to normal.

  Lucky me.

  As Galen ducked to go, I found myself wanting to call him back. I didn't know why, or even what I'd tell him. It was better this way. No attachments. No complications. I watched him head out the door.

  And run straight into Rodger.

  "Ow!" My roommate bounced backward a foot. "Hey, that's my sweater."

  "I lent it to him," I called, hoping Rodger was sober enough to get his butt inside and let Galen keep walking.

  "Okie doke," Rodger said, swaying into the doorjamb. His hair was even messier than usual, and his gold-rimmed eyes were bloodshot. "Ooh. It looks like a vampire love nes
t in here."

  "It was," Marius seethed.

  "Who was he with?" Rodger asked me.

  I shrugged, looking to Marius. "I didn't see. The girl was too fast."

  "Girl?" Rodger asked.

  I stepped back to let the werewolf stumble past. "What else would it be?"

  Rodger chuckled as he toppled face-first on his cot. Phew. He smelled like cigar smoke and rum.

  Galen had stopped to watch the freak show. I didn't blame him.

  "What were you two doing?" Rodger asked, rolling over. "Oh wait. I heard about it at the bar."

  "Already?" I asked.

  "You went and saw Father McArio." He barked out a laugh.

  Yeah, real funny. This was going to be a long night.

  Rodger reached for his covers and ended up covering himself with the tent flap from the window. "Did he take the knife?"

  Oh no.

  Galen stopped, and my heart skipped a beat. If he found out about the bronze dagger, he'd never leave this alone.

  "You're drunk, Rodger." I wanted to slam the door, but Galen was already back inside.

  "What knife?" he demanded.

  "Rodger—" I warned.

  "The bronze dagger," Rodger answered like a man who wanted to dig my grave. He waved a hand, as if that could dispel the tension thickening the air. "You probably don't want to see it. It's the same one she pulled out of you."

  "Rodger!"

  "What?" He sat up on his elbows while I looked on in horror. "He knows he was stabbed. Ohh…Skittles." He reached for a few petrified candies on his nightstand. "She tried to get rid of the knife but it showed up in her locker."

  "Rodger!"

  Galen's expression went hard. "That's why you asked where I was when I was stabbed," he said, cutting each word.

  Rodger flopped his head back on his pillow. "Gah. Stop talking so loud. I think my hangover is starting already. That's the last time I mix Hell's Rain with Malibu."

  Galen stood in the doorway, looking like he'd been smacked. "It's the prophecy," he said, almost to himself. Anger quickly replaced his surprise. "You lied to me."

  "Not really," I snapped. Deny it all. "The knife isn't important."

  "That's not what you said," Rodger added.

  Perhaps I could smother him with a pillow.

  "Let me explain," I said quickly. "The dagger that I took out of you, I showed it to the chaplain tonight, just to see if it was special."

  "And?" Galen snarled.

  "It's not. There's nothing special about it. Father McArio didn't even want it."

  Rodger propped up on his elbows. "Even after it kept following you?"

  "Rodger!"

  "You didn't tell him that part?" my roommate asked.

  Galen looked ready to tear down the hutch with his teeth.

  "Of course I told Father that part, but I wasn't going to tell him that part," I hissed, flinging a hand at Galen. Rodger had never been able to keep his mouth shut, but you'd think for once that he could give me a break on this.

  "Okay. Fine," he said, both drunk and offended. "I won't say anything else."

  "There's nothing else to say," I fumed.

  "Exactly," he said.

  Galen towered over me. "Oh, there's plenty to say."

  Fuck. "We're going to have to do this, aren't we?"

  "Immediately," Galen answered. "No tricks. No back talk. You tell me what the hell is going on."

  "Fine," I said, eyeing Rodger, who was still trying to use the tent flap as a blanket, and Marius, who sat cross-legged and bristling on his cot. "Let's go somewhere private."

  "There is no such place," Marius grumbled as Galen led me back out into the night.

  Chapter Nine

  We banged out of my hutch and stepped straight into an icebox. I wrapped my coat tight around me. "Come on. I need coffee and I need it now."

  "You're going to need more than that," Galen said, heading for the officers' club.

  I grabbed him by the fuzzy poncho. "Not there." I wasn't up for the stench of cigar smoke and half-drunk soldiers. Or the prospect of being overheard.

  "Where else do you suggest?" he asked, as if I was going to screw him over.

  Okay, so I had screwed him over. He didn't have to get so pissy about it. "Come on. We're going to break into the chow hall."

  Galen stiffened. "You want me to get caught, don't you?"

  "Truthfully? Yes. But that's not why I'm taking you there."

  "It's like you enjoy being difficult," he muttered under his breath as he fell into pace next to me.

  He was sure one to talk. I wasn't looking forward to explaining myself to the oversized lout, but maybe—just maybe—I could minimize the damage and convince him to take it down a notch.

  Ha.

  As long as I was wishing for that, I might as well wish for a pony.

  Torches cast shadows over the rocky path in front of us as we made our way past the enlisted tents.

  I was almost rooting for giant scorpion or three—anything to distract him.

  No such luck.

  I knew what he suspected.

  A healer whose hands can touch the dead was supposed to be the key to ending this war.

  Well, it wasn't me.

  I'd hoped for it to be me, prayed for it with everything I had. I'd read the whole prophecy and tried to make it come true. I'd been willing to risk exposure, and certain death, if doing so meant I really could put a stop to this war.

  But despite what I'd hoped—and what I put on the line—my grand foray into peacekeeping hadn't worked. It only backfired, bringing disaster down on me and the people I loved.

  It wasn't going to happen again.

  The mess tent slung low on the far south side of camp. It was usually a rollicking place. At this hour, it sat empty and dark.

  Lo and behold, it still smelled like garlic.

  The door was locked, but the screened window next to it was broken. I should know. I'd sliced the edge last week in order to slip Rodger a caramel-dipped onion.

  I'd gotten him, too. The corners of my mouth tugged up at the memory. It wasn't a big enough prank to use on Kosta, but I'd sure enjoyed it.

  My fingers trailed down the edge of the screen. Someone else had widened my original cut. Dang, I'd better keep an eye on my own food.

  I tore the screen open the rest of the way and ducked through. It was pitch black inside.

  "Watch it. There's a table right here," I said as Galen followed me.

  The kitchen was in the rear of the tent. The sand floor crunched under my feet as I slipped past the tables in the dark. The less we were noticed in here, the better.

  I walked straight back until I bumped up against the serving area. Ah, good. I followed it with my hand until it skirted back toward meal prep.

  When I reached the door to the kitchen, I stopped. "Galen?" I peered into the dark.

  "Yes."

  I jumped a foot as his voice sounded directly behind me. "Can you at least try to make a little noise?"

  "I am what I am."

  "No kidding." I pushed through the door and felt for one of the lanterns above the kitchen serving area. "Bingo." I lit it, revealing a hodgepodge of equipment that had been scrubbed to within an inch of its life.

  Well-used pots and pans hung from racks above the long metal countertop. Behind it was the prep area, refrigerators and freezers. I spotted a coffeemaker by the sink. Wouldn't you know it? It was already filled and ready to go for the morning shift. I hit the start button and sighed.

  "It's the simple things," Galen said.

  "Yes," I agreed.

  The glow of the single lantern cast shadows over his face. "You can trust me," he said.

  I straightened my shoulders. "I know." It was the truth. If I didn't trust him, I would never have moved toward a giant poison scorpion stinger. I gave an involuntary shudder. I would have been crushed in the backseat of that jeep.

  He kept his distance, as if he were assessing the situation. And me.
"I'm glad we got that out of the way. Because I'm tired of you lying to me."

  I crossed my arms over my chest. "I don't owe you anything."

  He slammed his fist down on the countertop, sending dishes clattering. "This isn't about either one of us." With great effort, he collected himself. "Lives are at stake."

  "You don't think I know that?" I shot back. "I'm the one who put you back together."

  Two large strides and he closed the space between us. "You lied to me. You said you didn't see me on the table." He towered over me. "Admit it. You saw."

  "Fine." There was no use denying it any longer. "I saw you. I held your soul in my hands."

  His anger vanished. "I remember."

  He stood, stunned.

  Oh no. He really was remembering something.

  "We touched," he said. "It was like grabbing on to a live wire. And then I could see inside you. I could feel it, in my hands, your strength and your dedication. The way you care for people you've never even met before. The way you ached for me. You didn't even know me." He stopped for a moment, as if he didn't quite know how to say it. "You're ashamed of that, but you don't need to be. You don't need to hide from me."

  I suddenly felt exposed, raw.

  "All I ask is that you respect my secret," I said, although frankly I didn't even know if he was listening at that point. "You know what they'd do to me if the truth ever came out. I'm just trying to protect myself."

  His expression was soul searing, intense. "Petra," he said, pure wonder in his voice, "you're beautiful."

  I cringed. It was as if he'd ripped down every wall I'd put up, leaving me bare and bloody. "No, I'm not. I'm strong and practical and cranky and damn good at what I do."

  His face didn't waver. "You try to hide it, but I saw. Even before I remembered, I knew."

  It was too hard to explain. Too painful. "I don't want to have this conversation."

  "I know. I won't push you. There's no need. I already see what's there." He watched me with such intensity it hurt. "You don't know how good it feels to know there's someone like you in the world."

  Yes. Failed, cranky, and hiding my power.

  "So can we keep this between us?" I asked. Because I really didn't want to spend the rest of eternity pushing a rock up a hill, or whatever the gods would do to me.

  "We can," he said, easing.