by Patti O'Shea
“Damon!”
He hadn’t realized the singing had stopped until he heard his name. “What?”
“Damon, where are you?”
“Oh, hell,” he muttered. He’d rather hear two thousand more verses of the beer song than go through this again. He brought his free hand up and rubbed her bottom. “I’m right here, sweet pea,” he said louder, hoping she could hear him.
She whimpered, and he knew she was deaf to anything outside her head. She shifted and he stopped walking. He was lucky her muscles were slack or she’d be thrashing right now.
“Help me,” she called, her voice raising goose bumps on his body. “I need you. Damon, help me!”
His heart pounded and his legs went weak at the anguish her words betrayed. He put her down and sat, cuddling her in his arms. Ravyn’s movements were weak, but her agitation was evident anyway. Her moan started low and became a wail.
That changed to one word repeated over and over. “No, no, no, no!” she cried.
Damon rocked her and made soothing noises. Nothing seemed to help. Then, as quickly as her hallucination had started, it ended and Ravyn went lax in his arms. Her eyes opened and she looked up at him. For a moment he thought she actually saw him, but the impression didn’t last long. Her eyes still held a haze.
“You left me,” she accused. His heart started to race. “You left me.”
Closing his eyes, Damon tightened his hold on Ravyn. Somehow she knew he couldn’t be trusted to protect her. Maybe she sensed his past failure. He didn’t know. “No one’s going to hurt you,” he vowed. “I’ll die first.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The raucous screeching of some nearby lizards pulled Ravyn from sleep. Her head pounded, and although she willed them to be quiet, they didn’t stop. Hoping to block the noise, she rolled on her side. She felt something scratchy as she moved, but forgot about it as pain slammed into her. Quickly, she returned to her back and took deep, calming breaths until the agony in her arm began to subside. Her relief was brief. The overly sweet smell of flowers made her stomach lurch.
Swallowing hard, she forced her eyes open and frowned. She was covered with leafy branches. Damon must have gone off, she guessed, and had concealed her the best he could. Ravyn pushed the foliage off with her good arm and then wished she hadn’t. The rising sun lanced into her head like burning lasers and she squinted, trying to block out the bright light. Carefully, she sat up. She needed to find Damon, had to make sure the image of him going off to face the killer alone was only a nightmare.
Standing took effort and Ravyn swayed unsteadily. Her headache intensified. She knew should stay put, but she had to be sure Damon was okay. Looking around, she tried to find a sign showing which way he’d gone. She didn’t see anything to tip her off, but she could sense him. Her hesitation was short-lived. She knew where he was and she had to see him. Now. She stumbled toward the rising sun, eyes narrowed against the glare.
Every step challenged her physically, her entire body protested the demands she made on it. Gritting her teeth, Ravyn made herself keep moving. Her watery eyes didn’t make it easy to see where she walked and her sore arm brushed against a tree branch. The pain nearly dropped her to her knees, but she feared if she went down, she wouldn’t get up. Instead, she clung to the branch until the burning torment stopped and she could continue.
It seemed like an eternity before she spotted him. He stood amid a group of trees, his arms crossed over his chest, staring off into the distance. Ravyn stopped short and sucked in her breath. Relief gave way to appreciation. The man made her knees sag in a way that had nothing to do with muscle fatigue.
“How are you feeling?” he asked quietly, turning his head and checking her out.
“Fine.” At his skeptical look, Ravyn lifted her chin and tried to smile. It felt weak even to her and she changed the subject. “What are you looking at?”
For a moment she thought he would quiz her further about her health, but he said, “I’m trying to decide the safest route to the Old City.”
When his attention shifted from her, Ravyn made her way over to him. He couldn’t have seen her walking, yet as she pulled even with him, he slipped an arm around her for support. Giving up the pretense of feeling good, she leaned into him and followed his gaze. The sun was rising behind the Old City, giving the whole place a rosy glow. It was so beautiful, so radiant, she caught her breath in wonder. Ravyn thought she saw an enormous pyramid of energy emanating from the top of the wall surrounding the city, but she blinked and it was gone.
“Did you see that?” she asked in amazement
“See what?” He sounded distracted.
Ravyn glanced over at Damon. He hadn’t noticed anything, she decided. If she told him what she’d seen, he’d only worry. It hadn’t been another hallucination; she was past those. “How the sun is making the city glow,” she said. It wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t what she had been talking about.
“Yeah, it’s very impressive.”
Okay, she could take a hint. “What’s up?”
That finally garnered his full attention. “Where we’re standing now, it’s the last cover we’ll have until we reach the Old City. It looks like the grass isn’t even knee-high.”
“And this is the most dangerous stretch for us.”
Damon’s frown deepened. “Yeah. All he has to do is wait and we could walk right into him.”
“If we don’t have any cover, he doesn’t have any cover.”
“Odds are he knows the area. We don’t. There may be some place to hide that we can’t see from here. Or he could just wait inside the Old City. Logically, this would be our destination.”
“He can’t enter the city. There’s protection around it.” Ravyn didn’t miss Damon’s concerned look. Darn it, that had just slipped out. She wasn’t used to watching her words around him.
“Do you think you should lie down? That venom from the barb could still be in your bloodstream.”
Ravyn shook her head carefully and relaxed against his body again. “I’m fine.” And maybe if she said that often enough, it would be true. They were so close to their goal, but she didn’t know how she’d make it the rest of the way. “Besides,” she continued, “you’d sense him if he was close. You have before.”
Damon grunted. A quick peek told her he had gone back to studying the terrain. She knew he wouldn’t take any chances with her safety, wouldn’t trust his instincts telling him the route was clear. She looked out over the land herself, trying to guess what Damon was considering. Her attention quickly drifted.
The early morning air held a hint of the sea. The Old City was built three kilometers inland from the largest ocean on Jarved Nine. Ravyn wished she could see it, but the ridge they stood on wasn’t high enough for that kind of view. For a girl raised on the beaches of California, seeing the ocean only once in eight months had been torture.
The aura of the Old City seemed to intensify, pulling her thoughts away from the water. It had to be a trick of the sun, but it felt as if they were being welcomed. All are safe within these walls. Ravyn didn’t know where the thought came from, but it wasn’t hers. She shivered slightly, but not in fear. The energy from the city seemed to envelop her and she opened herself up, returning the embrace with joy.
“Sanctuary,” she murmured, lost in the feeling.
Ravyn caught Damon’s sharp glance and the way his lips tightened. He didn’t comment on what she’d said, but she knew he wanted to. Then his expression changed and she realized he’d reached a decision. He pulled out one of the weapons, pressing it into her hand. “Stay here,” he said. “I’ll go get our stuff.”
“I’ll go with you.” Her grip on the gun tightened.
“No, you won’t. You’ll be lucky to make it to the Old City without being carried. I don’t want you wasting energy when we have to come back this way anyhow.” His voice deepened as he added, “You’ll be safe here, sweet pea, trust me.”
Ravyn sighed. She did trust
him, and he was right about her expending her strength. She hated that “Okay,” she agreed grudgingly, “but don’t take too long or I’ll come looking for you.” The fear of something happening to him if he was out of her sight was too strong for her to put aside.
If anything, Damon’s lips thinned further. “Yeah? And what are you going to do if I’m not back immediately? You can’t even stand up without leaning against me.”
Ravyn straightened. Of course, since she had to push off from him to do it, she doubted it underlined the point she was trying to make. “If I think you’re in trouble,” she told him, resolutely meeting his eyes, “I’ll crawl if I have to.”
“You would, too,” Damon said, his voice a grumble of irritation. He looked seriously pissed for a moment and then his lips quirked. “What the hell am I going to do with you?”
She figured it was a rhetorical question since he didn’t wait for an answer. As soon as he was out of sight, she made her way to the nearest tree. She didn’t dare sit, but as she rested against the trunk, the black dots stopped spinning around her head. It was going to be a rough day.
It didn’t take him long to return and Ravyn relaxed. The only thing troubling her now was how she’d make it to the Old City. One look at Damon and she decided to keep her concerns to herself. Exhaustion etched his face, leaving lines on either side of his mouth. Closing her eyes, she searched inside for a well of energy. She found a puddle. It would have to be enough.
He took her hand and squeezed it before starting out, and Ravyn wondered if she looked as scared as she felt. She stumbled along in his wake, unsure what pounded louder, her head or her heart. If only he hadn’t reclaimed the gun. She swallowed hard, trying to rid her throat of the lump lodged there. Damon moved cautiously, but showed no sign of anxiety. It’s you, Ravyn. You’re a coward. She wished they were invisible and pictured a cloak shrouding them from the killer. The image became so real to her, she thought she saw a veil shimmer around them.
Eventually, tiredness overcame worry and it took all her determination to put one foot in front of the other. Her focus narrowed to the man leading the way. As the sun beat down mercilessly, her headache worsened and she found herself lagging behind. Then Damon stopped short, knocking her out of her lethargy. He signaled and she went still. She could reach him in a few strides, but the safety he represented seemed far away. She watched him look around, gun ready, and tried to control her trembling. Coward, the voice in her head mocked again.
He swung the gun around and she bit back a gasp. Then the tension left his body and she could breathe again. Ravyn moved to his side and found what had caught his attention. Some rodent-type animal, a grahlen she thought, struggled to drag a plant frond to its nest. Its beady brown eyes gave them a glare before it continued. She leaned her head on Damon’s shoulder, following the animal’s progress until it disappeared from sight. Now that the terror had subsided, Ravyn felt even more drained.
“Come on,” Damon said. “I don’t like standing here.”
“Yeah,” she agreed and straightened. Ravyn watched the world sway before it righted itself.
The Old City loomed like some unattainable mirage on the horizon, close, but never within reach. It became more and more difficult for her to stay upright. Her head reeled and her vision narrowed, but she blinked it back into some kind of focus. Just when she doubted she could continue, Damon put his arm around her, giving her some much needed assistance. Time lost all meaning, and when he stopped, she gave him a puzzled look.
“We’re here, sweet pea.”
Ravyn stared at him dumbly. When his words registered, she turned her head and saw the massive gray gate. There had never been a more beautiful sight and she nearly wept with joy. Her body threatened to collapse and she was grateful when Damon leaned her against the wall. The sun-warmed stone pressed against her back, keeping her upright. She could hear him struggle with the latch, then grunt in satisfaction. He steered her inside.
Sanctuary.
Ravyn smiled. They’d finally made it home.
*** *** ***
Damon finished securing the last gate. He turned, stretching as he looked at the remarkably preserved city. He’d seen images, but nothing prepared him for the perfection of every detail. There should have been deterioration, but there wasn’t. He’d searched some of the buildings near the gates for supplies to set the traps, and everything, right down to the most delicate cloth, looked as if it had been produced that day. It was eerie.
Hauling Ravyn around yesterday had taken a toll, and he still ached and felt fatigued. Thank God she’d managed to walk today. Not fast, granted, and she’d needed help most of the way, but he honestly didn’t know if he could have carried her again. By the time they’d reached the gate, she’d been staggering. He didn’t know which of them was more grateful to have arrived. At least inside the walls, he could relax. It was quiet inside the city. Not so much as a breeze blew, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If he didn’t know better, he would swear it was temperature controlled.
After pocketing the supplies he hadn’t used on the gates, Damon scanned the area where he’d left Ravyn. His brows pulled together in a worried frown when he didn’t see her. She’d barely been able to stand by the time they’d reached the final gate. The first thing on the agenda was to take care of her wound. He should have cleaned it yesterday, but he had been too concerned with getting them away from the area where he’d fired the pistol.
When he finally spotted her, his heart stopped. He reached her side almost before it resumed beating. While he’d worked, he’d checked on her. Each time he’d looked over, she’d been sitting up, apparently alert. If he caught her eye, she would smile at him. Now she lay prone, her head propped up on the pack. Her eyes didn’t open even when he knelt beside her.
Damon found himself oddly reluctant to touch her, afraid his hand would feel skin burning with fever. Afraid he’d failed again to keep someone in his care safe. How many times had the danger of infection been drilled into his head during survival training? Why hadn’t he cleaned the wound before sleeping last night? He’d done nothing but stop the bleeding.
“Ravyn.” He could hear the fear in his own voice.
Her face scrunched up and he said her name again, louder.
“What?” she said, testily. Her eyes remained shut.
Never before in his life had he been so grateful to be snarled at. Relief brought laughter and Ravyn’s eyes did open then, so she could add a glare to her scowl.
“You had me worried,” he confessed, sobering.
Her face softened. “I’m okay, just tired.”
She was more than tired. He could see the listlessness in her eyes, and under the mud, her skin was flushed. Damon did reach out then and lightly touch her forehead. If his hand trembled slightly, well, he was entitled after the scare she gave him. Her skin was warm. “You’re running a fever.”
“Low grade,” she agreed.
If his sweet pea wasn’t denying the fever and insisting she was fine, then she was worse off than he’d realized. He pushed some of her dirt-encrusted hair off her face. Don’t panic, he warned himself. She had enough energy left to be crabby, so she wasn’t at death’s door. Still, infection could be every bit as dangerous as the killer. “Think you can walk some more?”
“Of course,” she said, the answer coming automatically.
She must have made her family, especially her over-protective brother, insane with her never-say-die attitude, Damon thought. God knew she made him crazy at times. And somehow, even when he didn’t believe she could deliver, she managed to do whatever he asked of her. It amazed him how she pushed beyond her limitations. This time, however, it appeared her will wasn’t going to overcome her body’s weakness.
“Uh, Damon, will you help me up?”
“And you think you can walk?” he asked skeptically as he pulled her to her feet.
“I can walk,” she insisted even as she wrapped her arms around him and grasped his waist.<
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He snorted. The only thing keeping her from landing back on the ground was the grip she had on him. “You’re a trouper, but you can’t do everything.”
“It’s not like you’re asking me to capture an enemy platoon. All you want me to do is walk. I’ve been doing that for years.”
Damon saw her feeble attempt at humor for what it was. “Distraction isn’t going to work. You’re not inexhaustible, even if you stubbornly insist otherwise.”
Ravyn leaned back so she could look him in the eye. “Me? I’m not the one who insisted on lurching along for hours after getting hit in the head with a tree.”
“It was a branch.”
“Oh, well, that’s different then.”
Damon suppressed the desire to smile at her sarcasm. “Think you can stand on your own long enough for me to get our things?”
He knew better than to ask he realized belatedly. Her expression took on a mulish cast. “Of course,” they said simultaneously.
Ravyn made a face.
“What can I say? You’re too predictable, sweet pea.”
He could see she didn’t like that, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she loosened her hold on him and steadied herself before letting go. Damon didn’t waste any time grabbing his canteen and the pack. Ravyn’s eyes were practically crossed as she struggled to remain upright. As soon as he had the pack settled, he slipped an arm around her. Judging from the way she immediately swayed into him, his support came just in time. He debated scooping her up and throwing her over his shoulder again, but his body protested at the thought. When he factored in Ravyn’s reaction, he discarded the idea.
Their progress was necessarily slow, and though she continued to lean on him, her step never faltered. The sun hung low in the sky, the shadows beginning to lengthen. As they made their way through the city, Damon couldn’t help but laugh.