Dark Warrior's Destiny

by I. T. Lucas

  Why the hell hadn’t the doctors given him something for the pain?

  He could feel the I.V. needle stuck to the back of his hand, providing fluids but evidently no morphine. On the other end of him a bloody catheter was getting them out. He hated the shit, but prior experience had taught him not to try and pull it out himself.

  “Nurse!” Andrew tried to call, but all that came out was an incoherent croak.

  Damn, there should be a call button around here somewhere. Andrew patted the mattress. Why the hell did they keep his room in complete darkness? There was always light in hospital rooms.

  Wait a minute…

  Panic seized him as he realized he could hear the monitoring equipment but couldn’t see the blinking lights that usually went with it. Was he fucking blind?

  His hand shook when he lifted it to his face and patted around. Thank God, his eyes weren’t bandaged. But his eyelids were closed, something gooey and sticky preventing them from lifting. No wonder everything was dark. He was tempted to rub his eyes and force them open, but perhaps there was a good reason for the sticky residue gluing them shut. Maybe they'd smeared ointment over his eyes and he wasn’t supposed to rub it off.

  “Nurse!” Another croak.

  Abruptly, the door banged open, and through the thin membrane of his closed eyelids he could see that the place was flooded with light.

  “Andrew, can you hear me?”

  The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t bring up a face to go with it. Had he suffered a memory loss? Fucking PTSD. Sometimes soldiers couldn’t recall any details from their last battle, but it had never happened to him before.

  He moved his lips to say yes, but the sound he made wasn’t even close. Fuck, it was so frustrating. He wanted to bang his fist against the mattress but only managed a thump. Would someone stick some morphine into the I.V. bag?

  “Gertrude! I need twenty-five milligrams of morphine!”

  Thank God. Just the promise of relief was already helping.

  Back to the memory problem.

  What was the last thing he remembered?

  “Andrew, it’s Nathalie. Can you hear me?”

  Such a beautiful voice. He’d heard it before, melodic, deep for a woman, and husky. Perhaps he’d dreamt it?

  Someone smoothed a few drops of water over his lips and he licked at them eagerly. Then there were a few more.

  An image popped behind his closed lids to go with the voice. Long, dark brown braid, big chocolate-colored eyes, and lush, full lips.

  Beautiful. His dream woman.

  “Bridget, why is he in so much pain?” the girl asked, her beautiful voice quivering. She was crying. Why was she crying?

  “I don’t know,” the doctor answered. Doctor Bridget. Funny. Bridget was a name of a starlet, not a doctor.

  The gentle fingers that had wetted his lips were now holding a warm washcloth to his face, wiping away the sticky goo from his eyelashes.

  “Thank you, Gertrud,” Doctor Bridget said.

  Suddenly, the pain just winked out of existence like it had never been there. The doctor must’ve put the morphine into his drip. Andrew was familiar with that effect. He’d experienced it many times before.

  “Can I give him something to drink?”

  “A little water is fine.”

  He felt a straw brush against his lips. “Can you open your mouth a little?” Nathalie asked.

  He obeyed, and she pushed the straw past his lips. He couldn’t figure out what to do with it. He was supposed to suck, but his facial muscles refused to cooperate.

  Damn, what was wrong with him?

  Nathalie must’ve squeezed the bottle because a little squirt of cool water landed on his tongue. She squirted a little more, and he drank some more, a few drops at a time. He was so grateful to her. His Nathalie.

  Was she his? Why couldn’t he remember?

  “Oh, Andrew, baby, don’t cry.” He wasn’t crying, was he?

  The washcloth returned to wipe around his eyes again.

  “Everything is going to be alright. The important thing is that you’re awake. I’ve been worried sick about you. You were out for five days. Syssi’s transition didn’t take that long…”

  Syssi was his sister, he remembered that. Another image flashed behind his lids, this one of his sister, she was young, maybe sixteen. But he knew that this was an old memory, she no longer looked like that. Syssi was all grown up; a married woman. Another image of her popped up, this time in a wedding dress, smiling happily with a pair of little fangs sticking out of her mouth. That’s right, she had fangs now because she’d married an immortal, and he had turned her. Kian, that was his name—

  Son of a bitch.

  Andrew felt as if someone flipped on a switch inside his head, and the haze that had muddled his memory was gone in an instant.

  “Nathalie,” he managed a whisper.

  “I’m here, my love.” She took his hand, the one that was free of an I.V. drip, and held it between both of hers.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  Chapter 50: Nathalie

  “Two double-double burgers and a triple order of French fries.” Anandur handed Andrew a paper bag.

  “You’re the best.” His eyes sparkling with excitement, Andrew snatched it out of Anandur’s hand. “Nathalie, quick, close the door.” He waved at her to hurry.

  Anandur leaned his butt against the sink and shook the other, much larger, bag. “You can still change your mind, Nathalie, you can have one of mine. I got four, just in case.”

  Like the big guy wasn’t capable of inhaling four double-doubles on his own. She’d seen what he’d eaten for breakfast.

  “No, thank you.” Nathalie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the two idiots. Burgers and fries were not on Bridget’s approved list of foods, and Anandur was sneaking them in behind her back.

  “You gonna get sick, Andrew. You’re still on a morphine drip and Bridget said you are going to feel nauseous if you eat solids.”

  Anandur pushed the tray table over to the bed, and Andrew put the bag down. Pulling out one of the hamburgers, he gazed at the thing with such intensity that it made Nathalie jealous.

  That hungry look should’ve been directed at her.

  Since he’d woken up, Andrew wasn’t the same. He was different with her, a little remote. She missed their sexually charged banter, and she missed feeling sexy and wanted.

  “I’m so hungry I can eat a truckload of these.” Andrew took out a huge bite out of the burger, moaning in ecstasy and letting his eyes roll back in his head.

  Nathalie pointed a finger at the monstrosity he was holding. “Bridget is going to come back and smell this the moment she steps out of the elevator. You’re gonna get in so much trouble.”

  Anandur patted her shoulder. “Let the man eat, Nathalie. If he keeps it down and doesn’t puke, Bridget will let him eat normal food.” He waved a hand at Andrew. “Just look at him, he looks like a scarecrow. Before being allowed on the streets, the guy needs to fill up or he’ll scare little children and old ladies away.”

  Nathalie let out a puff of air and uncrossed her arms, letting them drop by her sides. Andrew indeed looked different, but even though he’d lost a lot of weight over the five days he’d been out, and the transition had drained him even further, he was still a handsome guy. In fact, he was even more handsome now than before the transition.

  He looked bigger.

  She kept nagging Bridget to measure Andrew’s height, but the doctor had scoffed at the idea that he’d gotten taller. Michael had gained an inch since his transition, but that was because he was only twenty and his body was still growing. Andrew was supposedly too old for that. Still, Nathalie was convinced that he’d gained at least an inch if not more.

  She was so familiar with his body and how it felt against her that there was no way she could miss even the slightest change, and there were many.

  Not all of them exterior.

  For starters
, he kept sniffing her and saying that she smelled strange. Nathalie had showered and changed clothes four times since he’d woken up, just to get rid of what must’ve been the lingering scent of puke.

  Which reminded her that she was out of clean clothes and would have to call Jackson and have him pack another bag for her. Bhathian could pick it up.

  Problem was, it was embarrassing to have the kid handle her underwear. Perhaps she could manage without.

  Ever since Andrew had pulled through, the puking had stopped, which reaffirmed her conviction that the nausea had been the result of stress. Andrew was doing well. She could wait until he fell asleep again, then drive home, pick up a few things and be back in less than an hour. Andrew wouldn’t even know she’d been gone.

  Still, it was possible that what he’d been smelling had nothing to do with her puking. Perhaps his new and enhanced sense of smell could detect things he couldn’t before, and she’d always smelled this way.

  “This is so good,” Andrew mumbled with a full mouth and unwrapped the second hamburger. “Nathalie, come take a bite of this. You’re gonna love it.” He lifted the burger and extended his hand toward her.

  Oh, no.

  She’d celebrated too soon. Just the thought of putting the greasy meat in her mouth brought on an intense wave of nausea.

  Anandur forehead furrowed with worry. “Are you okay? You kind of turned gray.”

  Nathalie slapped a hand over her mouth and blurted from behind her fingers, “I’ll be fine.” Running out of the room, she kept going until the smell of meat faded completely. Leaning against the wall, she took a couple of deep breaths, then continued all the way to the kitchen for a new box of saltines.

  She was so sick of those, but the salty little squares were all her stomach could tolerate, other than coffee and cola that is. Not a healthy diet by anyone’s standards.

  She tore into the box and removed the top two, took a bite and chewed. Going down, the saltines helped relax her gag reflex and she let out a relieved sigh. With her stomach finally relaxed, Nathalie glanced at the two partially eaten crackers in her hand and chuckled. Her own version of a double decker.

  A cold can of cola and half a pack of saltines later, Nathalie returned to Andrew’s room in a better mood. Except, the door to his room was closed, and Anandur was out in the hallway, leaning against the wall and checking his Twitter feed or whatever other social media immortals favored.

  “What’s going on? Why is the door closed? Did anything happen? Did he barf?”

  Anandur smirked. “Bridget caught him eating the burger. She kicked me out because she is removing the catheter and the I.V. drip.”

  Ugh, the hot doctor shouldn’t be alone in the room with Andrew while handling his equipment, even if it was in a purely professional manner. Whenever Nathalie visited a male doctor, a female nurse was always present for the physical exam. She’d assumed that it was the proper standard protocol when dealing with a patient of the opposite sex.

  She was about to go knock on the door when Bridget opened it. “You can come in now.”

  A wide grin stretching his face, Andrew was sitting on the side of the bed with his bare legs dangling from under the hospital gown. “I’m cleared to leave this room and to eat whatever I want as much as I want.”

  This was amazing news.

  Forgetting that he had nothing on under that gown, Nathalie got in between Andrew’s spread legs and the thing bunched up, but she covered him from view with her body and wrapped her arms around him.

  Andrew was definitely bigger, and she wasn’t talking about his height. His ribcage must’ve expanded because he felt much wider in her arms. “You’ve gotten bigger, Andrew.” She turned to Bridget. “You have to take his measurements.”

  Bridget tapped her tablet. “I was just about to do that. First, let’s get you on the scales, Andrew. I need to know how much weight you’ve lost.”

  “Can we stay?” Nathalie asked.

  “If Andrew doesn’t mind, then I don’t.”

  Andrew smirked. “On one condition.” He lifted a finger then pointed it at Anandur. “Stop staring at my sexy legs.” He moved the finger to point at Nathalie. “You, sweetheart, can stare.”

  She grinned, her heart giving a little flutter of happiness. This was more like the old Andrew. Then when he sauntered behind Bridget, letting his gown part at the back, the grin turned into a giggle.

  “Okay, big boy. Step up here.” Bridget pointed to the scales. Andrew stepped up and she recorded his weight on her tablet. “Two hundred and five. Which is a twelve-pound drop. Not as bad as I thought. You can step down and go stand over there under the meter. Back straight, please.” She adjusted the lever up, and Nathalie squinted to see the measurement.

  “Six feet and three inches,” Bridget announced. “Congratulations, Andrew, you grew an inch and a half.”

  “I knew it!” Nathalie exclaimed.

  “I’ll be damned.” Andrew shook his head. “Didn’t expect this to happen.”

  “Neither did I.” Bridget pulled a measuring tape out of one of the drawers. “Let’s see about the rest.”

  For the next fifteen minutes or so, Nathalie watched Bridget taking every measurement possible; the size of Andrew’s ribcage, the circumference of his head, the length of his forearm, his torso, even his fingers got measured one at a time.

  “So what’s the verdict?” Andrew asked when the doctor finally folded her tape and put it in her pocket.

  “You grew both in height and in girth. The surprising part is that it’s not muscles that make you wider, since you’ve lost some of the muscle mass you had before during your convalescence, which means that your bone structure has gotten larger. That would explain both the prolonged unconsciousness and the intense pain you’ve suffered. Your body was rebuilding itself rapidly.”

  Andrew frowned. “How come it didn’t happen with Michael?”

  “Michael is still growing and changing, but that is not unusual for someone his age, and it’s a gradual process. I don’t understand why your transition was so different. I’ll have to devote some time to examining the results and do some research before I can offer a reasonable hypothesis.”

  Andrew nodded. “Understood. What’s next, Doc?”

  “Next I’m going to take lots of blood. Then Syssi will bring you a change of clothes so you don’t flash innocents on your way up to Kian and Syssi’s penthouse.

  Nathalie didn’t like this idea at all. “I want to take Andrew home.”

  Bridget cast her an apologetic glance. “Sorry, Nathalie, not yet. Kian left explicit instructions regarding that. Besides, I want to keep an eye on Andrew for the next forty-eight hours, and I’ll need to draw blood samples several times a day.”

  Crap.

  Andrew reached for Nathalie’s hand and pulled her into his arms. “We have a very nice room with a very nice bed at their place,” he whispered in her ear.

  That was true. But they had a comfortable bed at home as well.

  Chapter 51: Andrew

  “What about my father?” Nathalie asked.

  Andrew leaned back to look at her. “What about him?”

  “I can’t leave him here by himself.”

  “He is here? Since when?”

  Nathalie rolled her eyes. “I forgot you were out until last night. Kian allowed me to bring my father. Bridget let him sleep in one of her recovery rooms.”

  “And Fernando is okay with it? He didn’t throw a tantrum and tried to escape?”

  Nathalie smiled. “At first, but now he seems to like it here.”

  This was good news. “I’m sure Syssi wouldn’t mind.”

  His sister poked her head into the room. “I wouldn’t mind what?”

  “Having Nathalie’s father stay with you until Bridget lets me go? She wants me to stay in the keep for the next forty-eight hours.”

  Syssi dropped a paper bag on the bed with clothes next to Andrew and kissed his cheek. “Of course he can come. Where is
he? I want to extend the invitation myself.”

  Nathalie blushed. “It would be better if I talk to him. He is not so good with new people, and he might not understand why you’re inviting him.”

  Anandur chuckled. “If you ask me, you underestimate your dad. He looks happy as can be. He loves hanging out with William.”

  Andrew lifted a brow. “What is he doing with William?”

  Nathalie pulled out a pair of jeans out of the bag and looked them over. “Listening to William chatter, occasionally talking, playing video games. Are these Kian’s?”

  Syssi nodded. “Bridget told me Andrew’s clothes wouldn’t fit him because he’s gotten taller. So I got him some of Kian’s.”

  Thank God his underwear still fit fine, he would’ve hated going commando, and borrowing someone else’s underwear grossed him out. Except, maybe he shouldn’t be thankful for that. It troubled him to think that this most important part was still the same size. If all of him had gotten bigger, wouldn’t it look smaller in comparison?

  Damn, he needed some time alone in front of a full-length mirror.

  “Can I have the pants, please? It’s way too drafty down here.” He flapped the hem of his gown.

  “Here you go.” Nathalie handed him the pants and then pulled out a T-shirt.

  Syssi came closer and peered at Andrew’s feet. “How about shoes? Can you still fit in your old ones?”

  Good question. Bridget hadn’t said anything about them, but then she hadn’t announced each of the many measurements she’d taken.

  “One way to find out.” Andrew pulled the T-shirt on and got busy with the socks. “Let’s see.” He pushed his foot inside a shoe. It was a tight fit, but he would manage until he could buy new ones or have these stretched out. He pushed his foot into the other one and tied the laces.

  It was good to feel like a human being again, not a patient. Except, he wasn’t really a human being anymore, he was an immortal.

  Did it feel any different?

  Yes and no.

  The first few hours after waking up, the onslaught of sensations had been overwhelming, distracting. His vastly improved eyesight, hearing, and sense of smell provided too much information. It had taken his brain some time to get used to that. He wondered how much worse it could have been without the pain medications Bridget had been pumping him with. Without their numbing effect, he would’ve probably gone nuts.