by Angie Fox
I’ll bet. I trailed a finger down his battle fatigues. “You think you’re so smart.”
“He’s very smart,” said Jeffe, almost giddy.
My stomach quivered. I’d forgotten about the sphinx. And about Rodger.
“Get a room,” my buddy whispered not so quietly in my ear as he slid past me. “How’s it going, slick?” Rodger asked the sphinx, strolling over.
So much for showing Galen he wasn’t all that and a box of crackers.
I tilted my head to the side. “I’m not here for what you think I’m here for,” I said, wincing inside as I said it. Color me smooth.
No question Galen had me rattled, but did he honestly think I was going to hand my life over to him just because we’d connected on a soul level? Or because of the chemistry between us?
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Then why are you back?”
“Okay, how can I say this?” I wondered aloud, my face warming. What would it be like if this was a normal place and he was a normal guy and we actually had a shot?
It didn’t matter. That wasn’t the point. I was there to tell him to stay out of my business. I paused to gather my wits. “I know we’ve shared some things. And I like you. I do. But I don’t like it when you push me. I’m going to decide what’s best for me, whether you like it or not.”
That hadn’t come off as steely as I’d wanted, but he nodded anyway.
“Fine.” He gritted his jaw. “I think I can handle that.”
“Good.” Maybe we were making some headway.
“I won’t push,” he said. “You’ll see soon enough that the first prophecy has come true.”
And exactly that quick, hope crashed and burned. “I should leave,” I said, turning to go.
“Wait.” He touched my arm. “Stay. I want you here. We all do.”
“What? So I can watch Jeffe address postcards?” I asked.
Jeffe’s head cocked up at the sound of his name. “See how I write. Are they not beautiful?” Bold geometric designs edged the cards. He’d drawn scarabs, lotus flowers, and, of course, the occasional guard sphinx. “You don’t just want to write a name. You want to draw symbols for good luck and prosperity.”
Rodger stood over the sphinx. “I think you’ve got something there.”
Jeffe tilted his chin a little higher. “Tomorrow I start writing questions for trivia night! I am in charge as long as no one gets eaten.”
Nurse Hume burst through the front flap, holding an empty milk crate. His hair was pale, his skin was pasty, but his face was alive. “I just mailed batch six!”
A cheer went up from the group.
Come on. They must get thousands of entries every day. “He might not even win,” I told Galen.
“But I might,” answered Hume. His cheeks took on a flush I’d never seen before. “Imagine how I’d look in a brand-new silver Camaro.”
“They might let you pick the color,” Rodger suggested.
I was all for roses and sunshine, but… “Don’t you people realize we’re in the middle of a war zone? We have jobs to do.”
Hume clucked his tongue. “Well, aren’t you a buzzkill?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I looked to my friends for support. Naturally, they ignored me.
Hume gave me a small smile as he bent down to take the almost full box from the table.
“I’ve gotta get out of here,” I said to myself more than anyone else. It was too much, too fast, and if I wasn’t careful, I was actually going to join in.
I was aware of every muscle as Galen stood and closed the space between us.
“I’ll walk you home.”
I took two steps back. “Let me rephrase that. I want to get some distance from you.”
He stood over me, determined. “Let me be blunt. There are assassins after you.”
I cleared my dry, aching throat. He would have to remind me. I glanced past him, hoping Jeffe and Hume hadn’t heard. We didn’t need any more rumors floating around. “I thought you said I’d be okay in camp.”
“With protection after dark,” he said. “I don’t want you going home alone tonight.”
Fair enough. I stood in the open doorway. “Rodger, I need a bodyguard.”
Rodger lay stretched out on a colorful rug, admiring Jeffe’s artwork. “Come on. We just got here.”
Galen braced an arm on a tent post. “Are you afraid of what might happen?” he asked, a bit too amused for my taste.
I looked past him to the colorful Moroccan lights swaying in the cold breeze from the night. “Of course not.”
Not in the way he thought. Maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t had a date in seven years, or maybe I was in denial. But Galen was exactly the kind of strong, sensitive, braver-than-death guy who made me want to forget exactly how responsible I was.
Yet he was too dangerous. He was getting too close.
And he was as stubborn as me.
“Let’s go,” I said before I changed my mind.
We walked across camp in silence, his boots crunching in the dirt along with mine. The moon was purple tonight. It hung, large and luminous, over camp.
The air blew colder than before. I could almost feel the heat burning off him.
Just as long as I didn’t get attached. He didn’t belong here. He’d eventually realize his theory was bunk, and despite the current paperwork mix-up, he would be leaving this place, returning to the front lines or to whatever secret missions he ran.
For as much as we were both a couple of control freaks, neither one of us could control that.
When we reached my tent, we found Marius on the bed, his eyes closed, blocking out the world.
Galen stood at the threshold. “Let me in.”
I wanted to. I deserved to have someone. He did, too.
“I can’t,” I said as I slipped through the door.
Chapter Thirteen
The next day I didn’t hear anything from Galen. I tried to tell myself it was a positive step. Maybe he had finally given up.
But I missed him. I didn’t know what he was thinking.
I refused to ask Rodger where he was going, and where he’d been when he came back, humming. And Rodger didn’t tell me.
He’d laid off the alcohol, which surprised me. He wrote pages and pages to Mary Ann. At this rate, she’d know more about what was going on than I did. I was feeling hopelessly out of the loop.
I was halfway through folding a stack of laundry when Horace popped up outside my screened window. “I’ve been asked to bring you these.”
“What?” I asked, unzipping the window flap.
The forgotten god tossed a stack of paperbacks on top of my whites.
I grabbed for them. “Darynda Jones, Molly Harper, Murder Mittens by R. J. Blain!” And they were new. New books.
Rodger sat on the bed behind me, polishing his boots. “He misses you, you know.”
I held the books to my chest. “How did he know I have a serious fantasy addiction?”
“I might have told him.”
“Rodger!”
“It’s not a big secret. Besides, he could have seen those authors on your shelf.”
Maybe. “How did he find these?” I asked, giving in to some serious book fondling. There were no bookstores in Limbo.
“VIP interdimensional lending library,” Horace said. “Want me to take them back?”
“No.” I held them tight. “Maybe I’ll skim a few.” The books felt new, smelled new. Their spines were perfect.
The winged god nodded. “Okay, well, I have to get back to the construction site.”
“I don’t want to know what you’re doing,” I said, lining my new books up on my bed. “I don’t care what you’re doing.”
That didn’t stop Horace from telling me. “We’re refurbishing the burned-down VIP showers over in the minefield.”
“Why?” I asked slowly.
Rodger gave Marius’s footlocker a guilty glance. “Our vampire buddy needs some privacy.�
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I planted my hands on my hips. “Are you saying this because he superglued your sheets to your bed?”
“No,” Rodger said, “that was only to get back at me for the cuff links. I get that. This is different. Galen’s in charge. In fact, wait up, Horace. I’ll go with you.” Rodger dragged on an old pair of tennis shoes. “We’ve got some blackout curtains, some mirrors for the ceiling. Hume says he may be able to win a clock radio.”
It was like I’d been dropped in an alternate universe. “Why are you doing this? Galen’s not even part of this camp.”
Horace notched his chin up. “Yes, he is. Do you know he leaves me pennies every day?”
Well, if that was all it took… “I have pennies.” Only I hadn’t quite gotten around to delivering them.
He flashed a hand. “Save them. I don’t want reluctant charity.”
I wasn’t reluctant. I just didn’t realize how things could change.
“You know hope isn’t always a good thing,” I reminded them. I wanted things to get better. I did. The small improvements were nice, although it burned me up that I hadn’t thought of them first. But giving Marius a spot to call his own, or Jeffe a trivia outlet, or Hume a reason to be optimistic didn’t mean Galen was right about everything.
In fact, he was proving himself to be the type of guy to force change. Sure, that was good when it came to cheering up Hume or giving Jeffe his own trivia night (heaven help us on that one). But it could spell disaster if he tried to force any prophecies.
I’d made that mistake already.
I stifled a groan. It was so…unexpected. Galen was supposed to be a killer, a brutal special ops soldier, not this.
“Just don’t expect me to join the party,” I said, grabbing up a copy of Nice Werewolves Don’t Bite Vampires as they barged out to the minefield.
By evening, I’d come to realize resistance was futile. Marius’s new “lair” had been cobbled together on the flat strip of space between our hutch and the tar pits. So I went out to investigate.
I was fine with the limited view of the bubbling swamp. What I didn’t get was how excited Marius was. I stood a short distance from him, Galen, and Rodger as they admired their handiwork.
Marius tossed back a shock of blond hair. “It’s divine,” he said. “A triumph.”
Galen held his torch aloft, inspecting some of the seams. “I think we did pretty well with what we had.”
Marius couldn’t get enough. “I can sit in the dark and brood. I can stand. I don’t have to lie in a footlocker all day with my knees smashed against my chest while you two use it as a footstool.”
“And we did some soundproofing so you can play your music as loud as you want,” Rodger added.
That had never been a problem for Marius.
Rodger jogged over to me. “You should check it out.”
“I will.” In a minute.
I was insanely curious. Galen had brought more excitement to this camp than the last three USO shows combined. And that wasn’t just because I wasn’t into Homeric plays, feats of strength, and other entertainments the new gods seemed to think we’d enjoy.
Still, I refused to fall all over him just because everyone else did. I hadn’t done it for the cool kids in high school, and I certainly wouldn’t do it now.
Rodger stood grinning next to me. “I tell you. Galen is the coolest guy.”
“Why? What did he ever do for you?”
Rodger shrugged. “I’m having fun.”
Galen caught my eye and I felt my toes curl. Okay, maybe I was in trouble.
“Well done,” Father McArio said as he joined our little party, a mess tent cup of coffee in one hand. He patted Galen on the shoulder. “I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to have you here, son.”
Oh, brother.
I made my way over to the priest. “How’s Fitz?”
“Happiest hellhound in Limbo,” he replied. “That reminds me.” McArio fished in his pocket and handed Galen a key. “I don’t know what you’ll get out of him. He’s been chasing lizards all day. I left him sleeping in the woolly daisies behind the hutch.”
Wait. He couldn’t possibly have gotten to Father McArio, too. “Why are you giving Galen a key to your place?”
“His leash and treats are inside,” Father continued.
Galen pocketed the key. “I used to train guard dogs.”
“Of course you did.”
It was bad enough he’d barnstormed his way into my roommates’ affections. And Jeffe’s. And Horace’s. Now he had to go after my mentor, too.
“Where’d he get that?” I grumbled, watching Marius drag an ornate rug into the lair. Galen ran over to help him.
“VIP tent.” Father sipped his coffee, watching. “He’s great, isn’t he?”
“He’s the bane of my existence.”
Father watched me frown. “Funny.” He tilted his head. “I heard the commander saved your life.”
“How did you know?” Shock made me stand taller as I tried to figure out what that meant.
“Galen shared with me what happened. He’s worried about you,” Father said as if he knew my fear. “Be careful, Petra. Stay in camp.”
“Just don’t tell him about what I did when I first got here,” I cautioned.
“Of course not.” McArio seemed surprised I’d had to ask.
I didn’t like the father talking to Galen. I knew Father wouldn’t betray my past. Still, the entire situation made me uncomfortable. I couldn’t count on anything anymore.
Galen walked among the gathering crowd, his torch held high as he directed my companions. He wore his command like a second skin, his voice rich and warm.
Rodger was making sure everyone heard exactly how Galen had salvaged the lumber from the decimated VIP showers out in the minefield. Horace directed the onlookers with godlike glee. Several maintenance workers were busy smoothing out a path to connect to the main route, complete with torch holders.
In a quiet spot set apart, Father McArio had taken it upon himself to offer a small silent blessing, which I wasn’t sure was entirely appropriate for a vampire lair. Once the priest had lowered his hand and opened his eyes, Galen joined him, speaking in hushed tones.
Galen wasn’t even Catholic, was he?
My roommate couldn’t get enough of the attention this spectacle had afforded him. He flipped his hair and preened like he was on the red carpet.
Well, if the vampire wasn’t going to be using his dark retreat anytime soon, I wasn’t one to turn down a quiet spot.
I eased past the canvas hanging over the door and ducked into the vampire’s lair. Two steps and I practically had my nose pressed up against the back wall. So much for luxury. The thing was the size of a bathtub.
An old red lantern banged me in the head, its flame reflected in dozens upon dozens of mirrors in all shapes and sizes. Most were broken. Some were obviously from discarded makeup compacts.
Most of the salvaged lumber was warped and stained—and was that a showerhead poking out of the ceiling?
The canvas flap rustled behind me. “He’s hoping to eventually have one big mirror ceiling,” Galen said, his shoulders level with my face. It felt strange to be with a man who was so much taller than me. “We couldn’t fit the mirrors from his hutch in here.”
He was suddenly very close. His presence wound around me in a way that made me flush.
“Ah,” I said. No, not much would fit in here. “It’s very broody.”
Galen seemed to follow my train of thought. “It’s his.”
I hated to admit it to him of all people, but, “I like it.” I’d never seen Marius that happy.
He lingered so close that I could have easily reached out and touched him.
I cleared my throat. “You did good.”
Galen leveled a slow sexy smile at me. The warmth of it soaked me to my toes.
Get a grip. It was all too much—the changes, the bizarre notion of hope, him. I had to get out of there.
&
nbsp; Run.
But before I did, I was going to take advantage of this private space to make myself clear.
I cocked my head and did my best to ignore the way the lamplight played off his features. “You think you can do anything you want and people will just follow you.”
He stilled. “I don’t think anything,” he answered, genuinely perplexed. “We’re at war. I’m doing my best to make sure we survive it.”
Maybe so. We’d all tried to carve out a way to stay sane. “Why do you care about Marius and Rodger and Hume and Jeffe?” And whoever else he was helping?
“They’re good people.” He ran a hand over the bottom of his face. “They didn’t ask for this any more than you or I did. I don’t have all the answers. I’m not completely divine, but I do what I can to fix things.”
I planted my hands on my hips, shaking my head. “You just can’t leave well enough alone.”
“No, I can’t,” he said, without any trace of regret. “But I tell you, for once, it feels good to do it with a hammer and nails and not at sword point.”
So take-charge Galen was going to fix the world, one person at a time.
I stood stock-still as he touched my shoulder, his fingers trailing down my arm. “I know we don’t see eye to eye on some things, but let me in.” He wound his fingers into mine. “Let’s see where this takes us.”
For a moment, I wanted that. I’d give anything to feel safe and protected, to be in control of something bigger than myself, to make a dent in my own destiny.
I wanted to know how he did it. What he did to twist words and circumstances until suddenly the solution to everything was to trust Galen of Delphi.
But I couldn’t. “Your price is too high.” I could smell his clean masculine scent as well as a hint of blueberries. He wanted total compliance, and I couldn’t do that.
An inch more and we’d be chest to chest. Sure, we had no room in this place, but I couldn’t get over the idea that he was doing it on purpose to tease me.
Yeah, well, two could play at that game.
I touched his cheek. I could see the stubble on his wide-set jaw, feel the coarseness of it under my fingers as I drew them down to the smooth tan skin at his collar.