Warrior

by Rose Wynters

Red-hot anger shot through her at being treated so poorly. “You know what? To hell with you,” she hissed, at his back. She could barely stay on her feet, and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of forcing herself in front of him, just so he would look at her. “I’m out of here.”

  Turning, she walked in the opposite direction. She’d call a cab and find a hotel for the night. Maybe even a hospital, because each step made the pain in her head roar. If she survived the night, she’d decide later what to do about the future.

  IT TOOK SEVERAL MINUTES for Shayne to realize Anna had left. He’d heard the anger in her voice, but he was arrogant enough to think she wouldn't leave him. Obviously, he was wrong.

  He quickly looked around the small airstrip to locate her. He found her headed towards the main road, with no obvious signs of stopping. His eyes widened in disbelief before he sprinted after her. “Anna, wait,” he called out, when he got within hearing range. She didn't acknowledge him, although her shoulders stiffened at his words.

  “Wait,” he said, coming up beside her. He wasn't the least bit out of breath. “Where are you going?” he asked, in an irritated tone of voice.

  Anna didn’t stop. Instead, she walked right by him as he stared at her incredulously. Pulling her cell phone out, she checked it for a signal. “What's it to you, Shayne?” she called back, without stopping. “I'm doing what you've been asking for since last night. I'm getting out of the picture. To hell with you and your high-handed attitude. It's pretty clear to me that you don't want to be bothered with me anymore.”

  He jogged up to her again and grabbed a hold of her arm, pulling her to a stop. Swinging her around, he bent down to look at her face underneath the streetlight. He tilted her chin for a better look. She had dark circles of exhaustion underneath her eyes, and her skin was extremely pale. The usual pink tint to her cheeks was completely gone. It was then he noticed her pupils were still dilated. It was obvious, even to him, that she was going to drop at any moment.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were worse?” Shayne growled at her. She swayed and glared at him but didn’t respond. Another private plane took off, and the noise was deafening. She gasped as she placed her hands over her ears in an attempt to block out the sound.

  Remorse flooded his body. She’d been placed in his care, and he was failing in his duties with her. He was letting foolish pride get in his way of her care, simply because she hadn’t demanded a night in his bed. In his pride and arrogance, he had forgotten the serious head injury she had.

  His past experiences with women had obviously made him a conceited ass. He was used to women throwing themselves at him, desperate to have him in any way they could. Now, the joke was on him, as he wanted her in any way he could have her. Instead of taking care of her and trying to impress her, he was spending his time strutting around like a self-righteous ass, simply because she hadn’t inflated his overly inflated ego.

  Shayne didn’t understand what it was about Anna, but he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Her rejection of him had stung deeply. He'd spent the night brooding about her and their lovemaking. By far, it was the best he ever had. How could she act like nothing had happened?

  Rolling his eyes, he realized Arch wasn’t going to be pleased with him at all. Hell, he wasn’t pleased. It was time to pull his head out of his ass and get back on track.

  Clearly tired of his delay tactics as he considered his position, Anna pulled her arm away from him. “The hell you say,” he muttered, in protest, his face settling into hard lines as he grimaced. With one smooth action, he swung her up in his arms, bag and all. “I’m sorry,” he growled, scanning the parking lot for their ride. “I haven’t done a good job keeping you safe, and I know I haven’t made a good companion to you throughout all of this. If you will give me another chance, I’ll try to do better.”

  Underneath the harsh, artificial lighting, Anna glared at him. “That will do, at least for now,” she said. “Don’t do it again, though.” She began to shake from the cold temperatures and pain.

  Her body felt unnaturally hot in his arms, and he feared she was getting sicker. “We were supposed to have a ride here,” he informed her, as he looked both ways. “Heads are going to roll when I get a hold of the asshole that’s late.”

  Suddenly, a loud squeal of tires burst through the quietness of the night. A vehicle approached quickly, but Anna looked too weak to care. Her eyes had closed, and she made no efforts to hold onto Shayne in any way. He doubted she had the strength to do so.

  As the vehicle drew closer, it got louder and louder. Anna groaned in pain. Shayne just barely held back a curse.

  With its brakes grinding in protest, it drew to a stop next to them. Shayne’s body stiffened in outrage at the sight of their transport, as his arms gripped her tighter.

  “Please tell me that’s not our ride,” Anna croaked, without opening her eyes. “The noise is killing my brain.”

  Shayne didn’t immediately reply. He couldn’t. He was speechless. He stared in horrified fascination. A pink ice cream truck idled in front of them, as smoke rose from its tires. It had a large windshield and a giant ice cream cone across the top. Children’s music blared out from the speakers located on both sides of the cone, so loud Shayne’s teeth ached.

  “I’m going to kill Arch,” Shayne muttered, just as the folding door opened. A large clown with an orange wig stepped out, with a big smile on his artificially white face.

  “I’m going to kill him, too” Shayne snarled, watching the clown approach.

  “Sorry I’m late,” the clown said sardonically, stopping in front of them. “The damn truck wouldn’t go faster than forty miles per hour. He smiled, his teeth extremely white against his reddened lips. “My name is Jon. I’m your chauffeur for the night.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Shayne hissed. “Where is our suitable transportation?”

  Jon shrugged his massive shoulders. “We’ve got a bunny ranch lost in a sinkhole that runs straight to Hell, a demon-possessed human who drove his vehicle through a movie theater packed with people, and a group of demons on a killing spree. I am the only one who could make it, and this is my ride for the night.” He smirked at the look on Shayne’s face.

  “Why the hell are you dressed in a clown costume?” Shayne asked, indignantly. Jon was an endurer as well. He was about the same height as Shayne, with a thick, dark beard and a brawny build. If the situation wasn’t so grim, Shayne would have probably laughed. Orange really wasn’t Jon's color, and he looked completely ridiculous.

  A grimace passed over the other man’s face, as if he had remembered something unpleasant. The smile left Jon's face. Instead of answering Shayne’s question, he grabbed their bags and loaded them up.

  Returning, he held out a pink wig and explained, “Arch insisted we wear these. This one is yours.”

  Shayne looked at the pink wig in Jon's hand in horror.

  “Boy, it just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?” He shot a glare at Jon before turning to carry Anna up the metal steps. He was relieved to see a cot had been made up and secured inside the back. The truck was a decoy, an Arch original. He gently placed Anna on the bed.

  When Shayne returned to the front, Jon was in the driver’s seat. The closed door blocked out some of the horrid music. “We need to get out of here ASAP,” he muttered to Jon. “And turn off that damned music. You can fill me in on the situation here in Vegas as you drive.”

  The pink wig hit him in the chest. “We’re not going anywhere until that’s on,” Jon retorted, with a smirk. “Boss’s orders.”

  Shayne gave him a long, lethal look that promised all kinds of retribution before reluctantly sliding the pink wig on his head. He silently vowed to make Arch pay for his suffering and torment. Then he faced the windshield and gripped the long metal pole that run from floor to ceiling, as he resigned himself to what he expected to be the ride from hell.

  As Jon pulled out, he added in a cheerful voice, “By the way, there i
sn’t any way to turn off the music. The knob is broken.”

  ANNA STRETCHED, SLOWLY coming back to consciousness. The bed was amazingly soft, so much so she hated to wake up. After opening her eyes, she took in the bedroom she was in. It was huge and comfortable, complete with a roaring fireplace.

  For the first time in a long time, Anna felt good. She was warm, safe, and the clean sheets felt nice against her skin. Lifting her hand to her head, she realized the knot was almost gone. It was amazing what a good night’s sleep could do for your health and disposition, she mused, tempted to close her eyes and go back to sleep.

  A small sound to her right disturbed her. Turning her head, Anna jumped when she realized Shayne was in the room with her. His blue eyes rested softly on her face, as if he studied her. It took her a moment to realize he had circles underneath his eyes. He looked exhausted.

  “How do you feel?” he asked in a low voice, as he stretched.

  “Great, actually,” she responded. “What are you doing here?”

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You were out for two days, Anna. A doctor came and confirmed you have a concussion.” He looked past her, his brows drawn together in thought. “You needed someone to sit with you, and that’s what I did. It would have been dangerous to leave you alone.”

  She was shocked to hear she’d lost two days. That would explain why she felt so rested. “You should get some rest yourself,” she said, slightly concerned at his appearance. He had a haunted look in his eyes that hadn’t been there two nights before. “By the way, you’re not looking so well.”

  He waved off her concern, then asked, “Do you remember the night we got here?”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “It’s hazy but yeah. Why?”

  “After we got you loaded up in the truck, we were about halfway here when Jon circled through the park. We had gotten word that a demon was going to attack during a charity football game, and the idea was for us to be a distraction to save the kids he targeted.” He looked down at the ground and said quietly, “At the last moment, the demon went for someone in the field instead of the bystanders. We saved several but lost one, and one is too many in my book.”

  Her eyes welled up in tears of sympathy for Shayne and the unknown child who had lost his life. “You did your best,” she said, in a gentle tone of voice. “I know that probably doesn’t help much, but at least you’re out there trying. Think about how many people you've saved, me included. You’re not responsible for the evil thoughts and actions from someone else.”

  Shayne turned his head to stare at the fireplace. “It’s only going to get worse with Armageddon. In a few short years, that boy would have been grown. Who knows what he might have been destined for. One day, he might have been a strong fighter. He might have saved a lot of lives in the war that's coming. He won’t get that chance now, and neither will the people he might have saved.”

  Anna sat speechless, unable to think of a single word to say. Someone knocked on the bedroom door, saving her from a response.

  Shayne jumped up and explained over his shoulder, “I ordered food for you a few minutes ago, when I saw you were starting to wake up. After you eat, the doctor can examine you again.”

  At the door, he hesitated, with his hand on the knob. However, he didn’t turn around. “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he added, in a kind voice. Then he opened the door and stood to the side.

  A middle-aged man pushed a cart into the room. Its surface was filled with an assortment of silver bowls and lids. “I see our guest is up,” he said, in a cheerful manner. “My name is Edward. I’m basically the right-hand man around here.” He gave her a big grin as he rolled the cart up to the bed. “If you need anything, I’m your guy.”

  “Edward will sit with you while you eat. I’ll return shortly.” Shayne gave Anna a brief nod. He didn’t say anything else as he quietly left the room.

  Anna looked at the grinning man beside her and motioned towards the chair. Edward was of average height and build and appeared to be somewhere in his early forties. She could tell he was very friendly and looking to talk. However, nature was calling.

  Carefully sliding out of the bed, Anna made her way to the bathroom. Although she was all but healed, she knew she wouldn’t be running any marathons any time soon. She quickly took care of her most basic needs before returning back to the bedroom.

  “A girl could really get used to this,” she said, pleasantly, as Edward stood and assisted her back into the bed. A moment later a tray of food slid across her lap. Her stomach rumbled as she breathed in the tantalizing smell.

  After eating for a few minutes, she decided to make some small talk. Looking at Edward, she asked, “Are we at Shayne’s home?”

  “Yes,” he said, with a smile. He returned to the chair, a cup of coffee in his hand. “You don’t remember arriving?” he casually asked.

  She looked back at the events from the night they'd arrived, her brow wrinkling in puzzlement. “Not all of it but enough,” she replied. “Just some brief flashes after the airport.”

  Edward nodded. “That’s not surprising when someone has experienced a serious concussion. The doctor was already waiting when you arrived. He examined you and said that you’d be fine with rest.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Shayne stayed with you day and night until just a few moments ago. In fact, he insisted. He wouldn't allow anyone else to relieve him, although we all offered. Playing nursemaid is not the normal behavior for him. Not for Shayne. He's the type of man who likes to be active not stagnant.”

  Anna was holding the fork. At his words, she froze. She felt like there was some kind of meaning to Edward's words. She just didn't know what. “So why'd he do it for me and not someone else?” she prodded him, as she laid the fork down on the tray.

  Edward grinned broadly at her as he shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows,” he replied. “You're the first woman he's ever brought home.”

  He sat back with a pleased expression on his face, leaving Anna to brew in her thoughts.

  ANNA SPENT THE MAJORITY of her time sleeping the following two days. She'd had a few visitors, including Edward and another endurer named Ian. The doctor had been back to see her, and he felt Anna was healing as expected. A few more days of rest, and she would be back to normal.

  Shayne had stopped by—briefly—a few times. He was always cordial and polite, but he never stayed long. She hated to admit it, but she missed him. The heat of their previous argument had passed her by, and she was realizing just how much she enjoyed his companionship.

  A knock sounded on her door. “Come in,” she called out. After a day of boredom, she was definitely ready for company.

  Shayne pushed the door open, smiling at her as he wheeled a cart in. “Hungry?” he asked.

  She looked him over wistfully. Yeah, she was hungry all right, but not only for food. He looked good in his expensive jeans that fit him like a glove. The button-down shirt accentuated his broad shoulders, and he had the sleeves rolled up, revealing his muscled forearms.

  “Yes, definitely,” Anna replied, standing up. He pushed the cart over to the table and put the dishes and cutlery on it. To Anna, it felt cozy and domesticated. After seating her, he handed her a glass of white wine. Then he walked over to his own seat and sat down.

  They started to eat, as he made mundane conversation. Her eyes slid shut in ecstasy with the first bite. His cook was outstanding.

  Anna opened her eyes to see Shayne staring at her with a rapt expression on his face. A long moment of silence passed before he cleared his throat and asked, “Enjoying the meal?”

  She nodded enthusiastically, with a big grin. Blushing, she added softly, “In case you haven’t noticed, I enjoy good food.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that,” Shayne declared. “Personally, I like to see a woman enjoying her food.” They continued eating in companionable silence.

  “How old are you, Anna?” he suddenly asked.

  “I'm t
wenty-four. What about you?”

  Shayne took a sip of his wine. “I'm a little over five hundred years old, and I’ve been an endurer for hundreds of years,” he declared, his blue eyes looking past her as if he had to think long and hard. “I was born in the year 1436 in Ireland. McLoughlin was, and is, my surname.”

  She gaped at him in dumbfounded silence, her meal forgotten as the atmosphere suddenly changed. Shayne had her complete attention.

  “I had a wonderful family, and growing up we were very close. My family was rich and highly respected by those around us. We lived in a castle that had been passed down from generation to generation. It was surrounded by a small village, and our people were very loyal.” He paused, as if he were considering his next words.

  “I had several brothers and I wasn’t the heir, so it was decided that my fate was to be in the monastery.” Shayne grimaced at the thought. “It wasn’t the life I would have chosen for myself, but in the end, being a monk saved my life.”

  Anna sat in silence, captivated by his story. It was hard to believe she was sitting across the table from a man who had lived for over five hundred years. Had it been anyone else, she wouldn't have believed they were as old as he said he was. But with Shayne, there was no reason to doubt him.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, wanting to hear more. “How did it save your life?”

  He smiled, but his eyes were distant when he explained, “I was a monk for several years. It was a lonely and rigid existence, but there was some satisfaction in the good that we did for others. I lived only a day’s ride from my childhood home. Occasionally, I would go back to visit, but those times were few and far between. It was a different time back then. Travel was harder, and it took longer, as I'm sure you can imagine.”

  He paused. Whether he was waiting for a response or just gathering his memories, she couldn't have said. To be on the safe side, she nodded.

  “One day, a messenger arrived at the monastery. He was just a young lad and deathly tired, as well as hysterical. It took several tries for him to get the full story out, but when he did, it ripped my heart out.” He tapped his chest; his eyes stark with pain. “The entire village, including my family and staff, had been massacred. I immediately rode out and traveled all night, hoping and praying that somehow the boy was mistaken. When I arrived, though, there was nothing left. Nearly everything had been burned down, leaving the air smelling of sulfur and burnt flesh.”