by I. T. Lucas
What if Victor never woke up?
What if that was it, and it was never going to get better?
Every night she climbed in bed with Victor, snuggled up close and talked to him, stopping occasionally to kiss his cheek, or his eyelid, or his hand, and then talking some more until sleep was threatening to claim her.
Most nights she got up in time and moved to the cot, but sometimes she stayed with him all night, somehow aware in her sleep that she shouldn’t move lest she dislodged any of the wires and tubes he was hooked up to.
With her head resting on Victor’s chest, Bridget draped her arm around his torso and sighed. “When you wake up, I promise to feed you all the steaks you want. I’ll even cook them for you. Isn’t that reason enough to fight your way back? They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, maybe it is also the way to his consciousness?”
Bridget chuckled. “It’s good that no one other than you can hear me babble nonsense like that. They would’ve lost all respect for me. But you’re not going to tell anyone, right?”
She lifted her head and planted a kiss on his cheek, which was starting to grow stubble. Every morning, she gave him a sponge bath and a shave, keeping his face hairless the way he liked it, but by evening he would sprout a prickly shadow.
His eyelashes fluttered, but that was nothing to get excited about, it was just an involuntary movement.
When his finger twitched, Bridget’s heart jumped a little, but she reminded herself that it could’ve been an involuntary movement as well, and her heart sank back down.
Nevertheless, for the next few moments, she barely dared to breathe, paying attention to every part of Victor’s body.
In preparation for the night, she’d turned the sound of the monitoring equipment off and had turned the monitors to face the walls so the glare wouldn’t keep her awake.
Should she get up and check?
It was probably nothing, and she didn’t want to get her hopes up. Fates knew she’d done that enough. Every time she’d imagined anything, she’d run to the monitors with her heart in her throat from excitement, and each time she’d been devastated when the monitors showed no change.
Still, maybe this time it was something. Listening to Victor’s heart, it seemed to her that his heart rate had gone up, but she wasn’t wearing a watch, and without it, she couldn’t take an accurate measurement.
“I’m going to get up and check the monitors. I know I’m a hopeful fool, but I just can’t help it.”
Victor’s finger twitched again as if to encourage her.
“I see that you agree.” She slid off the bed. “But with what part? The one about checking the monitors or the one about me being a fool?”
She walked over to the equipment. “Don’t answer that.”
Everything was mounted on wheels, so all it took was a pull and a swivel to have them facing her.
She hadn’t imagined it. His heart rate was up.
“Victor?” She turned away from the monitors and took the two steps back to the bed. “If you can hear me, move your finger the way you did before.”
His hands were resting on his abdomen, the way she’d arranged them, and she watched both for movement.
A couple of seconds passed before the same finger that twitched before twitched again.
Coincidence?
“Can you do it again?”
The finger twitched.
“Oh, dear merciful Fates.” Bridget’s hand flew to her heart. “Thank you. I will never doubt you again.”
58
Turner
Waking up felt like swimming against a tidal wave of mud. Turner would emerge for a split second and then go under again, push as hard as he could to get above the sludge and get sucked back down.
It was a Herculean effort.
With each new push he was getting better at it, but at the same time, his energy was waning. He would have taken a few moments to rest but was afraid to lose the thread the ghost had helped him grasp. He might not be able to find it again on his own.
“Can you feel my hand?” Bridget asked.
She must’ve been touching him, but he couldn’t feel it, not yet.
“I guess not,” she murmured.
Concentrating all of his efforts on the thread, Turner imagined pulling himself up, hand over hand as if he was climbing a rope.
“Yes! That’s it! Squeeze my hand!”
Progress.
He still couldn't feel it, but apparently he was squeezing Bridget's hand.
Eyes. If he could only open his eyes.
But if he moved his efforts from climbing the rope to opening his eyes, he might lose his grip…
Except, he wasn’t really holding a rope, it was just imagery he was using to help himself clear the sludge.
Where was his friendly ghost when he needed him?
“Right here, my friend.”
Turner felt a mighty shove as if someone had slammed into him from below, propelling him up and up until his entire head was out of the muddy water and he could open his eyes.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
“Oh, dear Fates, don’t thank me.” Bridget wrapped her arms around his neck and plastered her wet cheek to his.
Was she crying?
“Don’t cry, love.”
Bridget started sobbing into his neck. “I thought you would never come back to me. I was resigned to living my life with you here in the clinic.”
With tremendous effort, he lifted his limp arm and draped it over Bridget’s heaving back. “There is no kitchen here, and someone promised me lots of steaks.”
Bridget lifted her head and smiled at him with tear stricken eyes. “You heard that?” She cupped his cheek. “I can’t believe I’m looking into your beautiful eyes. I’m so happy I feel like I’m going to explode. I can’t contain it all in here.” She tapped her chest where her heart was beating like a fast and furious drum.
It took him a moment to realize the significance of what he was hearing.
“I can hear your heart beating, and it’s loud.”
Bridget grinned. “You’re transitioning.”
“I know, you told me.” He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge what felt like a hairball stuck in there.
“Hold on, let me bring you water.” Bridget rushed to fill up a cup from the faucet.
Raising the back of the bed with her foot on the pedal, she asked, “Is it okay? Does sitting up make you dizzy?”
“It’s good.”
She stuck a straw into the cup and put it up to his lips. “Here you go.”
She waited for him to take a few sips. “Did you hear everything I and the others were telling you?”
He let the straw fall from his lips. “Yes, and I’m grateful beyond words. I didn’t dream. I didn’t have any visuals at all. I don’t want to think how horrible it would have been for me if there were also silence. I want to thank everyone as soon as I can.”
Bridget grinned. “I can send a group text to everyone and tell them you’re awake. A lot of people are worried about you.”
Victor glanced at her nightshirt. “It’s late, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s after midnight. But I believe that it’s never too late for good news. I can ask everyone to wait until tomorrow to visit you.”
Victor lifted a shaking hand to his face. “Thank you for shaving me. I couldn’t feel it, but I heard you telling me what you were doing.”
An interesting thought flitted through his mind. “You said you were using an electric shaver.”
“What about it?”
“I didn’t hear the buzzing sound. I only heard your voice.”
“The mind is complicated, and we still have a very limited understanding as to how it works, and why it filters some things and lets others through. But we can ponder those fascinating questions later. Right now I want to see if you can stand.”
Victor snorted. “I can barely lift my arms.”
“I’ll hel
p you. It’s important for you to start moving as soon as you can.”
“How about we wait with that until tomorrow? Right now I want to feel that snuggle you were talking about.”
Bridget leaned and kissed his cheek. “I wish I could, but there are several tests I have to perform right away.”
There was no arguing with Bridget when it came to his health. Besides, he was curious to find out what changes he’d undergone if any.
“After?”
“It’s a promise.”
59
Turner
Two days later.
“My scalp itches.” Turner scratched at the fuzz growing on his head. “Maybe I should shave it off.”
His hair growing back was just one of the perks of the transition. All of them were good, but none came without some kind of discomfort or another.
“I think you look sexy bald. Besides, what will Alice think when you go back to work? How would you explain suddenly having hair?” Bridget motioned for him to keep on walking.
His doctor-prescribed physical therapy included walking the keep’s underground corridors three times a day and lifting small weights.
“Hair implants.” Turner hadn’t had hair since his mid-twenties, it would be fun to once again run a comb through a healthy mane of hair.
“You’ll also have to find a way to explain your youthful appearance and where your wrinkles have gone. Not to mention the inch and half in height you’ve gained.”
“I can help with that.” Andrew stepped out from Kian’s office and joined them on their stroll.
Earlier that morning it had been Kian, who’d taken the opportunity to offer Turner a full-time job in the clan’s organization.
After all that Kian had done for him, it wasn’t easy to turn the guy down, and he promised to think about it, even though he knew the answer was going to be a no.
His independence, not to mention the impressive income he was making, was too dear to him to give up, even in exchange for immortality.
It would have been a different story if Kian had demanded it as a condition for Victor’s induction, then he would have had no choice but to agree, but Kian had missed his opportunity.
“How?” Bridget asked.
Andrew stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You can use the same story I did. I told people at work that my fiancée gifted me with a week-long spa treatment.”
Victor cast Andrew a sidelong glance. “That might explain the smooth skin. But what about the height you gained?”
Andrew smirked. “Spine manipulation. I told them some bullshit about the vertebrae in my lower back having been compressed and the chiropractic treatment that fixed that.”
“And they believed it?”
“What else could it have been? Platform shoes? It’s not like they can guess what really happened to me. It’s not in their frame of reference. They wouldn’t have believed me even if I told it to them straight.”
“Right.”
Andrew stopped next to the elevator bay. “I’ll leave you to your stroll. My daughter is waiting for her daddy.” He clapped Victor gently on the back. “Get well soon, old man.”
Victor chuckled. “I’m not old. I’m ageless.”
Andrew‘s laugh was cut off as the elevator doors closed.
“That’s right.” Bridget threaded her arm through his and kept walking. “Like your mate.”
“About that. Are you going to tell me how old you are now?”
Bridget laughed. “Not a chance.”
“You’re being silly.”
“I know how much you love a mystery. I need to have a few secrets to keep you interested.”
He stopped and pulled her into his arms. “Always. I’ll never tire of your company, even if we get to live for thousands of years.” He took her mouth in a hungry kiss.
Bridget pushed on his chest. “Easy, tiger. You need to get better first.”
“I’m better already. If you don’t want me to do the three-legged walk, you have to take me to your bed, woman.”
She laughed. “Soon. Patience, my love.”
Julian was there when they got back to the clinic.
“What are you doing here?” Bridget asked. “It’s late. Go home.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You should move back into your old apartment. I know that you want to be close to the clinic, and that Victor’s place is too far away, but living down here is depressing. There are no windows in here, and the patient rooms are small. You’ll be more comfortable in a normal apartment.”
That wasn’t conducive to Turner’s plans for seducing his mate.
Julian glanced at him and smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t be cramping your style. I asked Ingrid to assign me a new place. There is no shortage of apartments now. A lot of people have moved to the village already.”
Bridget stretched up to kiss her son’s cheek. “You’re the best, Julian. Thank you.”
He waved a hand. “Don’t mention it. And I’ll gladly go to Turner’s place and pack your stuff.”
“Thank you. But I can do a quick run tomorrow and get a few things.”
For some reason, Bridget’s words caused an uncomfortable feeling in Turner’s gut. The idea of her being further than a few feet away from him disturbed him.
“Let Julian do it. I don’t want you to go.”
“It's really not a problem, Mom. I won’t touch your underwear drawer, scout’s honor.”
Bridget laughed. She’d been doing it a lot since he’d come out of the coma, which made him realize how much she’d worried about him and how heavily it had weighed on her.
“I don’t care about that. I just didn’t want to trouble you. But it seems Victor is not ready to let me go yet, so I guess I’ll have to accept your offer.”
“Awesome.” Julian grinned. “You can go up to your old place now if you want. I’ll just grab a few things and go to my new apartment. It’s right next to Robert and Sharon’s.”
He hugged Bridget and clapped Turner on the back. “I’m going up now. By the time you get there, I’ll be gone. The door is open.”
“Your son is a good man,” Turner said once Julian was gone. “You’ve done a great job with him.”
Bridget took his hand and led him to his room. “Thank you. That’s a compliment any mother would love to hear. But I’m afraid that my contribution had little to do with how Julian turned out. He was born amazing.”
“Aha, but he was born that way because he has an amazing mother. I hope that one day I’ll have the privilege of having a child with you.”
Bridget sighed wistfully. “Fates willing.”
Epilogue
“Lady, can you at least tell us your name?” Grud asked.
Mordan shook his head. “You ask her that every day and every day she ignores you.”
“I’ll tell you my name when you tell me where all the gods and immortals are.”
“I told you already. We don’t know what you’re talking about. There are no gods.”
The woman glared at him. “You three are immortals. I am an immortal. Do you want me to believe that we are the only ones?”
Shaveh got up and grabbed the bars, shaking the cage’s door. “You can’t keep us here forever!”
“I can do whatever I want. Tell me what you know.”
Grud scratched his beard. Maybe if he told her something she would soften up, even lower her guard.
“There are a lot of immortals where we come from.”
“And where is that?”
“Don’t tell her anything!” Shaveh warned.
Grud waved a hand at him. “Shut up. I don’t want to rot in this cage.” He turned to the female. “We and the other immortals live on an island, but we don’t know where that island is. We get transported in and out of there in windowless planes.”
She frowned. “Why?”
Good question. “Because our leader doesn’t trust us. And if we get caught, we can’t tell anyone where ou
r base is.”
She nodded. “Like now.”
“Exactly. Now it’s your turn. What's your name and who are you and where did you come from?”
A sad little smile lifted her full lips. She was a beautiful woman if one could overlook her size and muscular build. Still, an immortal female, even an ugly one was a most rare find. It was a pity that this one wasn’t easy to subdue.
He wouldn’t have minded claiming her for his own.
But to do so he would need to get rid of the other two first. Shaveh and Mordan were probably thinking the same thing. He didn’t like the idea of disposing of them, but an immortal female was worth the sacrifice.
After taking care of the men, he would have to overpower the female because there was no way she would come to him willingly. He would have preferred not to, but again, an immortal female was too precious and rare of a catch to give up just because she didn’t want to be taken.
Except, none of that was achievable while locked in a cage.
“You can call me Wonder and that is all I can tell you.”
“That’s not fair. We told you our names, and now I’ve told you where we came from.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall. “I am an immortal who is searching for others like her, but who to this date has found only the three of you. Three vile and despicable immortal males.”
The woman pushed away from the wall. “I hope this is not all that is out there.” She headed for the door.
The end… for now.
Dear reader,
Thank you for reading the Children of the Gods series.
If you enjoyed the story, I would be grateful if you could leave a short review on Amazon. (With a few words, you’ll make me very happy. :-))
COMING UP NEXT
Goddess’s Choice
June 15, 2108
