by Angie Fox
Or worse, help.
At least I was doing something to take charge of my life. Something that didn’t involve dragons or prophecies—or Galen.
Luckily, my friend Rodger wasn’t busy. Or if he was, I didn’t notice. I’d found him halfway to the mess tent and informed him I was moving back in with him, and that I needed him to help me grab my things.
After all, what is it they say about good friends? A good friend will help you move, a true friend will help you move the bodies. I thought back on what Galen had told me and hoped I wouldn’t be testing Rodger any more than necessary.
My breath hitched when I spied one of my books on Marc’s desk. It would be the last time our things were together like that.
Rodger stood behind me while I lit the lantern. “Why is this place always so dark?”
“Not the time, Rodger,” I said, sliding my footlocker out from under my cot.
“I’m just saying.” He shrugged, picking up the footlocker as if it weighed nothing. “It’s like a crypt in here.”
I opened my duffel bag and tossed in a few loose books and some shoes. I crammed my shower kit in and stuffed my pillow under my arm.
It was for the best. Marc and I couldn’t keep going on like we had.
“At least you’ll get to see more of Galen,” Rodger said, taking my duffel and hooking it over his shoulder.
“No,” I said, grabbing my snack box. Hell, aside from my bookcase, I was already packed. Or—a niggling thought stuck in the corner of my mind—maybe I’d never really unpacked.
“This doesn’t have anything to do with Galen,” I said, as we made our way outside. It truly didn’t. What I had with Marc was broken. We both wanted to fix it, but that didn’t mean we knew how.
Outside, the heat of the desert stung me. I sighed and glanced out over the endless wasteland. Hell, if I had to guess, I’d say Marc had proposed in order to fix it. If we’d been able, we might have even had children in order to try and make things right.
We’d keep going down that path because we were too afraid to get off it.
Rodger and I trudged side by side. What had happened was awful. But at least it had forced me to take a hard turn.
Right off the edge of a cliff.
No, I refused to think that way. I had my werewolf buddy and the rest of my friends. I had a job I was good at.
I didn’t need a man or a relationship to make me feel complete. That in itself was freeing.
I’d learned a lot, grown more than I ever imagined.
We drew curious looks as we made the trek to my old tent. “I feel like I’m moving back in with my parents.”
Rodger grinned at that. “At least I didn’t turn your former spot into an exercise room.”
No, he hadn’t. When we made it back to my old place, I saw he’d removed my cot completely and had installed cement-block shelves.
I glanced at him. “Not that I’m picky about where I sleep, but…”
“Bah, I can change it back. Take a load off,” he said, dumping my footlocker and duffel just inside the hutch door.
He didn’t have to ask me twice. I stretched out on Rodger’s cot while he banged around. How was it that his pillow was better than mine? I raised my head a little. “What about you?”
We’d be back on in five hours, maybe less with all the cases we had in Recovery.
“Super werewolf strength.”
Now he was just being nice.
“It won’t take long to get your side back together,” he said, grunting as he hefted. “Want me to make it dark in here?”
“God, no.” Let there be light.
And shedded fur balls in the corners.
I closed my eyes, smelling the tar swamp, listening to the familiar bubbling out back. It hurt to know that things were never going to be the way they had been with Marc. But at the same time, it felt good to be home.
* * *
Five hours later, we were back in Recovery. The place was packed. Burns were excruciating, physically draining, and ugly in so many ways. Beds full of bodies lined both sides of the long, rectangular room.
We’d squeezed temporary cots in between, and the hall in the middle was jammed with doctors, nurses, orderlies, and even the entire bar crew from the officers’ club, who had shut down in order to stock supplies and offer nonmedical help.
As soon as Rodger and I walked in the door, there were nurses handing us charts on the most critical cases. Marius arrived as soon as dark fell. And it was well after that before I could even inquire about the corporal I’d found yesterday in the yard. I hadn’t seen him among the men, but at this point I wasn’t even sure if I’d recognize him if I’d tripped over him.
I was washing my hands, rinsing the slick burn ointment away, sterilizing myself for the next case.
Nurse Hume stood next to me. “What’s his name again?” he asked.
I tried to remember the dog tags. “Zanas, Zara?”
“Zern,” he said. “The were.”
“Yes.” The one who’d gone without painkillers.
“He died.”
My heart squeezed. “Oh. Okay.”
Goddamn it.
This needed to end. The sooner the better. It was all up to me and I had to wait around for a fucking knife.
We worked another six hours before we had everyone settled for the night.
The lights flickered and dimmed until the room was bathed in shadows. Blue lights lined the walls, illuminating individual patient areas enough for us to monitor them while they slept.
I knew I should go talk to Marc. I’d caught him watching me a few times. Still, I wasn’t sure what to say to him. I didn’t want him to think he had a shot when there wasn’t one.
Ending it with him had been the right call. It was hard, but it was also a relief.
Unlike my breakup with Galen, which had shattered me to the core.
I handed a chart off at the nurses’ station and lingered on that thought for a long moment. What would it be like if I could actually have Galen in my life?
A familiar voice from behind startled me. “A word, doctor?”
I turned and the air left my lungs in a whoosh.
Galen stood there, at the front of Recovery. He had gauze wrapped around his head and over the lower part of his face, like some kind of Bedouin sheikh on a desert hike.
“What are you doing?” My whisper was about nine octaves too high as I glanced down the line to see if anyone was watching.
He stood in front of me as if he had nothing to hide. He drew close, far too confident for his own good—or mine. “You haven’t been by to see me today.”
“I’ve been busy,” I said. That’s when I noticed he’d also stolen a shapeless examination gown, as if that would hide his power, his raw masculinity. I hoped his ass was hanging out. He deserved it. I planted my hands on my hips. “I thought you’d wait for me.”
He frowned. “You thought wrong.”
“Come on,” I said, leading him to an area just off the nurses’ station. I closed the door to a room that held four private examination rooms.
The curtain screeched as I ripped one open and ushered him into a six-by-six area with a bed.
“This is good,” he said.
Good, my ass.
It was even darker in here, the blue lights set low. I clicked on the portable medical lamp and we were flooded with light.
My tongue hit the top of my mouth when I took a good look at him. I could see his ridged chest against the thin material. And my heart did a little flip-flop as I spotted the sheen of sweat at the hollow of his neck.
He was the only man who could make an examination gown sexy. And I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t get a grip.
He touched my arm and my skin burned at the contact. “Have you gotten the dagger back?” He leaned closer than he needed, realized it, and pulled back.
“No,” I said, cheeks heating under his scrutiny.
“‘No’ to the touch or ‘no’ about the knife?”
“Either. Both. Take your pick.”
He blew out a breath. “Damn it. I need to know what’s going on.”
“Nothing.” So far. “Of course, that’s usually when things go to hell.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“You can’t fix everything,” I reminded him.
His jaw tightened. “Want to bet?”
I shook my head. “Let me see your bandages.” I led him to the narrow bed, ignoring my body’s reaction to him in the small space.
Bad idea, I realized too late. He was wearing a one-piece exam gown. How the hell was I supposed to do my job without—oh, my.
I cleared my throat. “Let me just slide the top over…” his massive biceps.
He bent his head as I reached for the ties around his neck. I wondered why he didn’t try to make it easier, and then I saw the way his hands were fisted at his sides.
I slid the gown down over his broad shoulders and chest, my body tightening in response. The cloth caught at his waist, just below his washboard abs, and I made sure it stayed there.
“Stop,” he said, reaching for me, almost as if he were in pain.
“What?” I asked, tucking the gown under his thighs, realizing too late that I was touching him way too much.
He was hard. All over.
I refused to look.
Or to think about the way my skin flushed or how my core had gone molten. I could still be professional about this.
Distant.
Even if the man, not to mention his mere presence, took up every inch of the small exam room.
I traced my fingers along the edge of the bandage at his chest, and examined the pink, puckered skin. Then I did the same for the cuts to his arms and shoulder. They were raw, but he was healing nicely. “You look good,” I said, refusing to think about the way I was touching him.
My elbow brushed his arm and I yanked it back like I’d just touched fire.
Galen was wound just as tight as I was.
“When I was hurt in the escape, I didn’t know if I’d ever make it back to you.” His voice was thick, his eyes just as blue as I’d remembered. “I’ve never been this beat up before.”
“You’re mortal now.” He’d given up his demigod status for me.
The intensity of his gaze nearly undid me. “It’s worth it.”
Now I knew why I’d fallen headlong into disaster for this man.
I smiled and ruffled his hair. “I don’t know. I think I’d take the superfast healing.”
He tilted his head into my hand. “I preferred the megastrength. You haven’t lived until you can bend spoons.”
“That was one way you never tried to woo me.” He’d preferred blueberries, long walks, and saving me from killer scorpions and soul-eating Shrouds.
He nodded slowly, his face a mask of concern. “So you’re saying spoons would have made the difference.”
I tossed an exam glove at him and he caught it.
He grinned, sobering as he shook his head. “I never planned for it to turn out this way.”
Neither one of us had. The prophecies came with terrible costs. He was trapped and so was I. There was nothing we could do about it as long as this war raged.
“I know it’s wrong, but I can’t stop believing in us,” he said. He touched my cheek, let his fingers trail down my jaw. “It can’t end this way.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him it must. It had.
He’d never lost faith. Galen always believed, even when I’d found it so hard.
He drew my hand down into his. “When we were escaping, I took Leta across four quadrants. Through enemy lines. Then we hit an old army unit twenty miles from here.”
I’d known the armies were advancing. This was war. But I’d had no idea they’d gotten that close.
“You were the only one I could trust. I don’t believe in accidents,” he said, his back rigid, his features taut. “I was meant to come back to you again. And now the knife has returned—”
“Not yet,” I said quickly, as my brain struggled to take it all in. I couldn’t think when I was around him. That was the problem. “I don’t know when that dagger will show up.” Just like I hadn’t expected him. In fact, “The bronze dagger should have been here by now.” It had never been reluctant to harass me in the past. Unless … “What if I screwed up? Didn’t see it? Oh, God. What if it’s loose somewhere in camp?”
He seemed amused at that. “You can’t lose an enchanted knife.”
He was one to talk. “You ever had one before?”
“No.”
“Then don’t go telling me about cursed daggers.”
He let out a small snort and I considered it a victory.
I missed this. Him.
There was a time when I would have given anything to get over Galen of Delphi. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
“You can’t avoid it forever,” he said pragmatically.
“The knife or you?”
“Both.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to comfort you.”
“Then maybe you should put on some clothes. Like a parka.”
He gave me a cat-ate-the-canary grin. I had a sudden urge to kiss it right off his face, like I would have when we were together.
He had an odd look, as if he knew, before shaking it off. “I admit that every time you’ve had the dagger, it’s been hard. Hell, it was hard on me to give it to you.”
“Considering I pulled it out of your chest.” My fingers itched to touch the spot.
He was so close I could almost count his individual eyelashes. God, I could feel the heat rolling off him. “It’s like Father McArio said. The dagger is a tool.” The tips of his fingers caressed the top of my hand. “It’s an insane test every time the knife comes up. But we’ve succeeded.” He closed a hand over mine and I felt it down to my core. “We’ve changed things.”
I slid my hand out from under his, used it to shove my bangs out of my eyes. Wouldn’t you know, I instantly regretted losing his touch. “No we haven’t. The gods are still fighting. What good is a cease-fire if it only delays things for a while?”
He looked at me, steady, sure. Hades, I’d missed that. “We stopped fighting for the first time in seven hundred years. That’s all the proof you’re going to get right now. You know the rest is faith.”
My heart warmed and suddenly it was all too intimate, too real. “Thanks,” I said, feeling my eyes go moist as I let go of some of the worry. I studied my fingers and the red dirt floor of the tent. “I needed to hear that.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his deeply handsome features clouded with tension. “You know I’d go to hell and back for you.”
I snorted. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
He hesitated, which was very unlike him. “Holly says you’re no longer with Marc.”
My throat felt tight. “Holly has a big mouth.”
He watched me, the pure affection in those deep blue eyes nearly undoing me again. “This is our second chance.”
“Galen—” I didn’t need him winning me back. Or Marc thinking he could change my mind. I didn’t need either one of them right now. All I’d gotten in the end had been heartache and pain.
Luckily, he didn’t push it.
“It about killed me every time I heard a prophecy. Wondering what was happening to you, how you were handling it.”
Yes, well, he couldn’t have it both ways. He couldn’t look at me like that after he cut off all contact. “I wasn’t the one doing special ops missions with no immortal protection.” I hadn’t gone dark. I hadn’t left. “Galen, where the hell did you go?”
It pained him, I could tell. He blew out a hard breath, instantly bringing a hand to the bandage on his side.
Oh, this was ridiculous. “Let me see.”
He squirmed to avoid me. “It’s fine.”
“You’d say that if your arm fell off.”
He stopped fighting while I check
ed him out. “I never wanted it to end the way it did.” He paused, then sighed. “They sent me on a special mission to assess and acquire old army assets. Command wanted to see if and how they could be turned.”
“Tell me about it.”
He glanced up. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands folded. “It was top secret and everything about my life was about to be scrutinized for security purposes.” His jaw tightened. “Especially the incident where I ran off to the rocks with you.”
My cheeks warmed at the mention of our lovemaking that night. The world had been going to hell, but everything with Galen had been so right.
“I’d done enough to draw attention your way,” he said, as if I hadn’t just been picturing his insanely irresistible body naked and ready for me. “If I was ever the one to expose you.” He shook his head. “It’s terrifying.”
“I can hold my own.” Or had he forgotten how I’d stood up and fought with him? I’d also done a damned good job after he’d left.
He ran a hand through his short hair. “I’m not going to discount what you went through, but you have no idea of the horrors that are out there. That’s a good thing. It’s my job, my duty, my reason to exist to keep you as far away from that sick terror as I can.”
He was a soldier. He faced the monsters so people like me didn’t have to.
Never back down. Never surrender. It was written on every fiber of his being. “I refuse do anything to expose you, Petra.” His body was ramrod stiff. “If that means losing you, then I’m willing to make that sacrifice. For you. Only you.”
The unfair awful truth of it was, he was right. I’d had to sneak around quite a bit to fulfill the last three prophecies. Hell, I’d had to go AWOL. I never would have survived, much less succeeded, with the eyes of the new army trained on me.
My gut twisted as his words sank in. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want your regret.”
“What I meant is I forgive you.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, letting it sink in. “I’m glad.”
I groaned, wrapping my arms around my chest. “What are we even doing?”
He shook his head. “Let’s not talk about that now.”
“You’re still leaving.” He’d never tried to hide it.
“I’m needed,” he said simply. “The work I do saves lives, it provides valuable intelligence—resources.” He glanced around the tiny examination suite. “Somebody’s got to keep you living in fine style.”