Fourth a Lie (Goddess Isles, #4)

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Fourth a Lie (Goddess Isles, #4) Page 28

by Winters, Pepper


  Sully finished his smoothie, wincing as he placed the empty glass on the cabinet close by. His actions jerked with nervous energy, ready to finish the war. “Is Eleanor okay? Her heart...it wasn’t coping while in the midst of elixir last night.”

  I rubbed my chest, listening internally for any signs that I’d suffered long-term issues. The rhythm seemed regular. I felt a little bruised and delicate, but nothing a day of rest wouldn’t fix.

  Dr Campbell threw me a smile. “She’s fine. Her pulse is a little faster than normal, and her iron levels are low, but her system will bounce back.” He pointed a finger in Sully’s direction. “As long as that was the last time she’ll ever have elixir, you don’t have anything to worry about. But if you dare—”

  “Never again, Campbell.” Sully cut in. “I give you my word. Not because of your ultimatums and betrayal, but because I fucking refuse to kill the only thing that matters.”

  I blushed as Sully cupped my cheek and kissed me. His lips pressed softly, his dark five o’clock shadow that’d grown into a cropped beard whispering against my skin. That damn electricity that never ceased to spark hummed between us, heating me from the inside out, proving to me that our connection was utterly irreversible. My cells had adopted his. His body had claimed ownership over mine.

  We belonged to each other now, come what may.

  When he pulled away, his gorgeous blue eyes dove into mine, firing its message of togetherness and true love. My healing heart hopscotched, switching regular into erratic just from a look. From a kiss. From the vow lashing us together.

  Till the end, Jinx. I’m keeping you ’til death do us part.

  My ears rang as if he’d actually said such things.

  I gasped as he kissed me again, accepting Dr Campbell’s insistence that we had a little more time before reality came crashing back.

  Tearing his gaze away, Sully asked the doctor, “Is there anything you need for Jess? Trial drugs that you think will work? Any of our discarded mixtures?”

  Campbell shook his head. “I’ve administered one trial that was said to stop the misfiring senses in Parkinson sufferers. However, it doesn’t seem to have worked.”

  “Call Peter Beck. He might have something new brewing that could help.”

  Dr Campbell nodded. “Fine, I’ll call him the moment I’ve checked on my other patients. It’s a full house lately. You’re lucky I’m not demanding another doctor to assist me.”

  Pika suddenly swooped to Sully’s shoulder, squawking with an ear-piercing caw. Sully winced, rubbing his face with his hands. “Your other patients being Cal and Skittles, right?” He dropped his hands, peering at the doctor.

  Pika continued to flutter and prance, his squeaks and chatters making my heart skip. Somehow, this tiny fluffy parrot knew exactly who the humans discussed and unnervingly knew he’d get to see his sister.

  How?

  How does he know?

  What sort of instinct had animals tapped into that alerted them to happenings before they occurred?

  “Hush, Pika.” Sully cupped the noisy bird in his hand, running his thumb over Pika’s head. “She’s fine. You’ll see her soon.”

  “He can see her now. It’s time I checked her splint anyway.” Dr Campbell looked at his wristwatch. “I’m guessing you have another hour or so before Drake wakes. If you eat the mushroom wraps I made and allow your body to digest that smoothie and shed your exhaustion, you should be able to kick him from your island easily enough.”

  “Kill him, not kick him,” Sully growled.

  Pika nibbled Sully’s fingers until he released him, then took off in a flurry of green to wing around Dr Campbell’s head, squeaking, “Pika. Pika!”

  Sully groaned, swinging his legs out of bed. “Fine, let’s have a feathered family reunion because after, I have my own family reunion to finish.” His voice turned black. “And a family burial to arrange.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “I THOUGHT I HEARD your annoying ass.”

  My head wrenched up as I crossed the threshold into the second recovery room. I had shit to do. No time to waste. Yet my exhaustion painted everything in a fugue. My urgency kept firing and then slipping.

  I couldn’t afford to waste a second, yet I couldn’t seem to wake up fully.

  Cal smirked as my gaze landed on him. His voice croaked and held a weak quality that hinted all his focus was on pain rather than the sarcasm he’d thrown my way.

  A smile tugged my lips. “You’re alive then. Figured you were shark meat.” I tutted as I crossed the distance to his bedside. “Pity. They have the taste for humans now. They would’ve enjoyed your tasty hide.”

  Standing had been hard work, the first few steps after lying cramped on a small hospital bed had been agonising, and the hole in my leg refused to be ignored anymore, ensuring I had a goddamn limp. No matter how much speed or power I added, I couldn’t get around the fact that most of my thigh muscle was out of service until it healed.

  Cal noticed.

  He’d always been razor-sharp at spotting vulnerability in the guests who came to my shore, using them to his advantage to keep men in line. It fucked me off that he assessed me with the same stare.

  “Can’t kill me off that easily.” He grinned, his pallor pasty and body not its usual vital self.

  “Ah, don’t worry.” I smirked. “I’ll come up with other ways.”

  Dr Campbell rolled his eyes as Cal snickered and held up his arm. “Glad you’re still breathing, Sinclair.”

  I clasped hands with him, squeezing with relief that my friend and second-in-command was still alive and his usual acerbic self. “Likewise, Moor.” I glanced down his body at the tubes disappearing under the sheet covering him, the wheeze as he breathed, the etching of agony around his eyes that hinted his quips wouldn’t last long until he either demanded stronger painkillers or succumbed to sleep to numb it.

  “They might get to nibble on you after all, Cal.” I forced a chuckle. “Who knows if you’ll pull through. You look like shit.”

  “He’ll pull through,” Campbell muttered. “He’s getting stronger every day. Only woke ten hours ago and has already improved rapidly...thanks to a few of your unapproved drugs, Sinclair.”

  I threw him a nod. “Use whatever you need.”

  Cal assessed me in the same way. “Know what? Those sharks of yours can have a chew on you. You’re not looking so good yourself.”

  I scoffed and broke our grip. “Me? Nothing wrong with me.”

  “Of course there isn’t.” He grinned. His attention flicked to Eleanor as she slipped to my side. “So...you found your way back, huh?”

  This joviality was wrong.

  This was delaying a justified murder of my brother.

  “I did.” Eleanor nodded; her gaze direct but guarded. It hadn’t escaped my knowledge that there was no love lost between these two. A competition lurked beneath their interactions. I supposed I should be honoured that the two people closest to me felt some sort of possession over me, but I wouldn’t tolerate it.

  Not now Eleanor is a permanent fixture in my life.

  However long that might be.

  “You told me to keep her if she ever came back.” I crossed my arms. “Might just take your advice.”

  Cal’s green gaze shot to mine. “Got yourself a new pet, sir?” He laughed under his breath, wincing as he held the two bullet holes in his torso that Campbell had hopefully fixed.

  “Worse.” I smiled. “If we get out of this mess intact, it seems I now have a wife.”

  Eleanor sucked in a breath beside me, her cheeks pinking as Cal’s gaze popped wide. “Holy shit.”

  Cal stared at Eleanor, his blasé welcome switching to sincerity. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for being a little, eh, cold to you. I was wrong. You’re not like the others, and it seems you can be trusted. I told Sinclair not to send you away, by the way. I knew the asshole was in love with you before he did.”

  Eleanor rubbed the back of
her hand where the IV line had been removed. “I don’t really know what to say to that—”

  “Say we can be friends and let it be the end of—”

  Pika’s screech shut Cal up as the chaotic caique ricocheted around the room. His feathers gleamed and his infectious joy dusted all of us as Campbell came through the door holding a silver tray, soft gauze, and a tiny patient in the middle.

  “Skittles!” Eleanor headed straight toward the female parrot, the canary yellow shirt so big on her stunning frame. Skittles puffed up and screeched loud enough to hurt my ears.

  Eleanor’s legs still wobbled a little, her body would be undoubtedly sore from how rough I’d fucked her, doing my damnedest to get her to come before she died in my arms.

  I sighed as my chest ached.

  She’d been so fucking close to dying.

  I could still feel the tremor of her pulse. The unbearable contortion of her body as she drowned beneath pleasure that’d become insurmountable pain.

  She’d scared me.

  Scared me straight in so many ways.

  It was a minutely battle not to hover over her, to listen to her breath and press my hand over her heart to ensure it pumped reliably. It terrified me that we were such a fragile species. Ruin one organ and death followed.

  Have I shaved decades off her life because of what I’ve done?

  “Fuck, you’ve got it bad.” Cal snickered under his breath.

  I was tempted to punch him, but he hissed as the damage to his body dragged him under again. He had enough pain without me adding to it. Instead, I threw him a one finger salute and half-padded, half-limped across the surgery to where Campbell had placed Skittles on a bench beside the sink and antiseptic supplies.

  Pika was beside himself, hopping, stomping, purring. He head-butted Skittles until she snapped at him, he pranced around with his wings spread like the savage dictator he was. “Hello. Hi. Lazy.” He rolled over onto his back, his scaly legs kicking air, his happiness unable to be contained.

  Eleanor laughed.

  Such an innocent sound that had no place in the world we’d found ourselves in. This small oasis of peace wasn’t real. We still had a fight to win, yet her laugh made me believe we had won.

  That we could be happy...together.

  That I could keep her and know she was safe.

  Fuck, I wanted that.

  I wanted her safe but I couldn’t shed the creeping, cloying coldness beneath the spare white shirt Campbell had given me. Premonition or preparation...either one warned not to get too entangled just in case this pause in happily ever after was all I’d get.

  Campbell stayed at a respectable distance, allowing our hellos. “Her wing will mend. I expect she’ll be able to fly again in six weeks or so. Probably sooner but I’d like to err on the side of caution.”

  “That’s good news.” Eleanor smiled, continuing to cuddle the parrot.

  Impatience slithered through my veins as I wrapped my arm around Eleanor’s slight waist. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate this interlude...I just wasn’t one to trust in seemingly perfect moments because there was no perfect moment.

  I need to go kill him.

  Now!

  Eleanor kissed my cheek as I leaned over her and tickled Skittles under her chin, careful not to knock the small splint keeping her wing splayed and straight.

  My heart squeezed at her swift, sweet affection.

  Gratefulness filled me that Campbell had rescued the parrot who was such a fundamental part of Eleanor’s enjoyment on my shores. I wasn’t an idiot. She’d fallen in love with me, yes. But she’d also fallen in love with the world I’d conjured, the birds I shared my life with, the palm trees and beaches that were my playground.

  Would she still love me if I didn’t own an archipelago?

  I couldn’t punch Cal, but I could punch myself.

  Did she teach you nothing?

  She would love you even if you were destitute and living in a cardboard castle.

  “Sully, what’s wrong?” Eleanor whispered, her gaze tracking over my face. “You’re gripping me so tight.”

  I relaxed my hold. “I’m fine.” I hadn’t meant to show my straying thoughts. That all this positivity and peace set my teeth on edge because I didn’t trust it. We hadn’t earned it. It was the calm before yet another storm.

  I need to go.

  No more delays.

  Letting her go, I stepped back, removing myself from such a domestic scene. Jess had been tended to and was in the best possible hands. Cal was awake and inching farther from the Grim Reaper’s sickle with each passing hour. Skittles and Pika were reunited. Eleanor was healthy despite the hurts I’d given her.

  I’d fulfilled my responsibilities to those who deserved the best of me.

  I was free to become the worst of me.

  Released from my obligations so I could finally give in to the fury that constantly blazed in my belly. A fury I wouldn’t be able to extinguish until my brother was dead and I’d delivered his demise personally.

  Only then would I allow this sweetness to infect me.

  Backing away, Cal caught my gaze.

  He gritted his teeth but nodded, knowing exactly where I was going.

  Campbell shook his head, and Eleanor spun with Pika on her finger, her face glowing with relief which quickly solidified into dread. “Sully...no.” She stepped toward me. “Don’t go back there. Not yet. You’re not strong enough.”

  I held up my hand. “Stay here.”

  “No. I won’t let you—”

  “Stay here, Jinx.” I pointed at the floor. “You will give me that respect. You will stay out of harm’s way so you don’t distract me from what I need to do.”

  “But what if—?”

  “Stop.” I held up my hand, putting more distance between us. “I’m going. I’ll be back soon.” Spinning around, I clenched my jaw against the need to limp and shoved aside my pain—both physical and emotional.

  I grabbed the door handle and stepped over the threshold back into Jealousy’s space where she lay unmoving by the wall.

  A noise sounded behind me as Eleanor gave chase.

  I slammed the door closed.

  I braced myself, wanting to lock it so she had no choice but to obey me, but the soft snick of a gun set my senses into high alert.

  Mother. Fucker.

  Turning slowly, I glowered as the three guards from Euphoria aimed guns at my chest.

  I didn’t care about their threats.

  I had a bulletproof vest thanks to Drake’s decree that he needed me alive.

  They didn’t say a word as we squared off. The sound of heavy footfalls came just before Drake dragged his weary ass into the surgery and grinned.

  Or at least, tried to grin.

  His Botoxed face prevented any form of animation, but his exhaustion made him look like a discarded napkin. His cheeks slouched, his pupils dull, his shoulders rolled, and entire body looked like a sack half full.

  He’d yanked on black combat gear a size too big for him. He trembled from the exertion of Euphoria and elixir. He looked weak enough to kill with a fucking feather.

  I grinned, bending my knees, ready to pounce. Voices echoed behind the closed door where I’d left Eleanor with Cal and Campbell. Eleanor argued. The men kept her obedient. I tuned them out as I said, “I was just coming to find you, brother. How convenient that you came to me instead.”

  It wasn’t convenient.

  I wanted him far, far away from Eleanor.

  But...beggars couldn’t be choosers, just like my brother couldn’t cry when I killed him for daring to come to me in pieces and think he could win.

  Clearing his throat, Drake croaked, “Get away from the door. That bitch of yours isn’t escaping so easily.”

  I balled my hands, stepping threateningly toward him. “You can choose to die in here or outside in the twilight. Your choice.”

  The mercenaries shared a smug smile, their guns still trained on me. “You’re
high on delusions, mate.”

  Drake sighed. “Shoot the goddess.”

  It happened too fast for me to choose.

  A gun swung toward Jealousy, incapacitated and entirely vulnerable in bed.

  Instinct kicked in.

  I charged to stop it.

  I left the closed door to Eleanor unprotected and failed to defend Jess as the crack of a bullet split the air, sulphur stunk the space, and a spill of blood stained the white sheet instantly.

  She didn’t even wake as he shot her.

  “Fuck!” My leg bellowed as I tried to change direction.

  Too late.

  Two mercenaries bowled through the door, whipping guns up to aim at Cal and Eleanor.

  Eleanor froze. Cal jack-knifed up in bed even with tubes and agony. His gaze fell on Jess bleeding in the other room and his face contorted with horror. “Ah, fuck!”

  “No!” Eleanor screamed, trying to get past the guns and run to Jealously. “Oh, God.”

  For fucking shit, when would this fucking nightmare end?

  Drake snickered. “Handcuffed ya, baby brother.” He came toward me, reaching out to pat my shoulder.

  I punched him square in the motherfucking jaw.

  He collapsed.

  The man wedging his gun into Eleanor’s tangled coffee hair yelled, “Hurt him again and I’ll shoot this bitch.”

  My fingernails dug into my palms as I fought every savage desire to kill three men. Three men holding my chosen family hostage.

  Two humans, two parrots.

  At least Campbell stood in front of the caiques, shielding them from my brother’s view.

  Drake clambered to his feet, rubbing his jaw and shaking his head. “I’ll grant you that one, Sully. One punch. Do it again and I’ll kill Eleanor Grace without any hesitation.” His eyes flashed. “I’m not playing games anymore, baby brother. I’m as sick of this battle as you are. I’m tired and hungry and want to fucking rest. Be assured my temper is thin, and I will kill her, so be a good boy and listen up.”

  I cursed the coldness in his tone. The simplicity of finality.

  He’d reached the end of his rope too.

  Previously, our interactions had been a taunt, a test. The usual rivalry between siblings that’d mutated into murderous. But now, there was no quips or quarrels just the cold-hearted assurance that he was trigger-happy and impatient.

 

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