by Austin, RB
He frowned. “I ordered you and the others to leave the HQ until I called you back.”
Lucas lifted his eyes and shrugged. “We didn’t.”
Cade’s eyes narrowed. “You all disobeyed a direct order—”
“You didn’t give the order as the Sept leader but as a brother. One we chose not to accept.”
Cade opened his mouth then shut it. Lucas’s reasoning was complete bullshit but there was no point in arguing. The Follower was in the HQ.
Which Lucas planned. He knew Cade wouldn’t force his brothers to leave now, not when there would be a greater risk of discovery.
He growled. “We’ll discuss this later.”
Lucas nodded, his expression of serene compliance. More bullshit.
Cade tuned back to Emma.
“You said this happened about twelve hours ago?”
“Yes,” Martha answered the doctor.
Silence.
Cade should be in there. What was happening?
Lucas rested a hand on his shoulder. Cade stiffened then relaxed, accepting the comfort.
“I can’t know for certain without running some tests, tests that need to be performed in a hospital, but at first glance it appears as though the cut is infected. But if it’s only twelve hours old . . .” Pause. “That’s too early to determine if it truly is an infection. What did you say she cut herself on?
Cade held his breath.
“An ice skate,” Jeeves said after a pause.
“An ice skate?”
“Yes.”
“The cut appears deep for an ice skate.”
Martha cleared her throat. “What else could it be if not an infection, doctor?”
“Perhaps a concussion, maybe the flu, or the . . . ice skate.” His latter tone said he knew they were lying. “I’ll start her on an IV treatment of antibiotics. I want to take the skate with me. Run some tests.”
“Could it be?” Lucas asked, eyes wide.
Cade stared back, indignation rising at the possibility. “They put poison on the blade to infect their victims.”
“What would be the point if they’re going to drain them anyway?”
“Do they ever need a reason to cause more pain? Maybe it’s their escape insurance. You’ll look into this immediately. Discover if there’ve been similar cases.”
Lucas gave a quick nod and left the room.
Closet to bed. Bed to closet.
“Yes, of course,” Martha was saying. “Do you have the right medicine with you?”
“Yes, but IV treatments will need to be administered at my office or the hospital. First I’ll want to—”
The door burst open. The doctor startled. Even the ebhed were shocked at Cade’s sudden appearance in the room.
“Give her the medicine,” he commanded.
“I beg your pardon. Who are you?”
“Her . . . husband.” Cade glanced at Martha and Jeeves. Their shock equaled his own. Where had that come from?
The doctor’s voice softened. “As I was telling your aunt and uncle, I can’t prescribe your wife anything without further tests.”
“She’s not going to the hospital.” Cade all but growled. His patience was done.
The doctor’s eyes narrowed. “I understand your wife’s fears,” he said, still trying for a calm and reasonable tone. “But it isn’t practical.”
Cade grabbed the man’s collar and picked him until they were eye to eye. The doctor dangled three inches off the floor. “Give her the damn medication. Now.” Cade didn’t have to decipher the doctor’s horrified expression to know his eyes glowed and his fangs were descended.
The doctor’s face turned red and garbled sounds left his mouth. Ineffectively he clawed at Cade’s hands.
“Uh, adohn,” Jeeves said from Cade’s side. “The Follower can’t breathe. Perhaps it may be a wise to . . .”
Cade’s hands were removed from the doctor. Sarid led the Follower by both arms to the chair by the bed. The doctor began to wheeze. His face was still the color of a tomato.
Gabriel stood in front of Cade. “What the hell are you doing?”
Cade growled. He didn’t need a babysitter, especially in the form of this brother.
His gaze switched from Gabriel to the doctor, whose head was presently in between his legs at Sarid’s insistence. Martha and Jeeves stared at him as if they didn’t recognize him. Emma’s eyes were still closed, face still pale.
Cade took a few calming breaths. Closed his eyes until the glow receded along with his fangs. He cleared his throat. “I apologize.”
The doctor lifted his head. His eyes were still wide with fear and his heart pumped fast. Heart attack city. Cade didn’t care as long as the Follower took care of Emma first. He blinked. This wasn’t like him. Putting one human in front of another. They were all important to the Creator. “I’d appreciate it if you’d leave the medicines. I can administer them.”
The doctor’s expression changed from fear to doctor-esque authority. In other circumstances Cade would’ve been impressed with the old man’s ability not to piss in his pants after coming face to face with the Behn mask. Although Sarid probably deleted the previous minutes from the doctor’s memory. “You have medical training?” His tone was skeptical and hinted that he had no intention of leaving anything.
Cade’s hands clenched as he transferred his weight from one foot to the other. Gabriel stepped forward.
“I do.” Sarid’s low voice cracked. The room fell silent.
The doctor turned, apparently getting a look at his savior for the first time. His eyes widened and he shrank away from Sarid. He caught himself and stilled, blanking his expression in a matter of seconds. “You—” The doctor cleared his throat and tried again. “You have medical training?”
“I’ve had much practice tending to wounds.” At the doctor’s pursed lips, Sarid added, “When I was in the military.”
The doctor’s gaze roamed over the faces in the room. He stood. “I’m not comfortable giving medication before I know the diagnosis,” he started. “It’s not how I practice medicine.”
Cade growled. Why couldn’t the ebhed have found a corrupt doctor?
The doctor turned, searching the floor. Probably looking for the animal that made the noise. Lines wrinkled his forehead as he continued. “If you have medical training, I guess I can leave a general antibiotic. I’ve some with me in a pill form as well as intravenous. The intravenous will be stronger.” His tone riddled with disapproval. “I’ll insert a port into her vein before I leave. With the seizures, I don’t want you to leave the IV hooked to her continuously.”
Sarid picked up the doctor’s bag and handed it to him. “Show me.”
The doctor explained as he administered the first round of antibiotics and gave Emma an injection for the pain. Jeeves pounded a nail in the wall to hang the IV bag. The doctor left stating he would return in two days to check on her. He requested to take the ice skate with him for tests and Cade agreed knowing when Sarid walked the doctor out he’d wipe the entire night from the Follower’s memory.
Martha, Jeeves, and Gabriel left the room shortly after Sarid. No one said a word. Good. Cade wanted to be alone with Emma. The IV solution bags and medication vials were on the table next to her bed. The doctor’s instructions were already memorized. He moved the chair closer to the bed, cradled one of her hands in his, then settled in to watch her chest rise and fall until she awoke.
Chapter 5
Vetis stood in the entrance of the holding area, scowling at the thirty men and women in front of him. Some sat on the dank, dirty concrete floor like the rats they were, others walked around sizing each other up. The recruits were restless, anxious for the destiny they were promised. They’d piss in their pants, screamin
g and fighting for escape, if they understood how they were going to reach their destiny. Morons. All of them. Not one was worthy to stand in front of Apollyon.
He was, though. Just a little more time and then he could put his plan into action.
A shout rang out. Vetis’s gaze raked over the smelly Followers, pinpointing where the interruption occurred. Two men squared off, ready to throw punches.
Vetis inhaled deep and swift. He pushed out breath until a car-size cloud of cool air collected in front of him. With another exhale he blew it through the room. The visible puff of air swept through every recruit before bouncing back and heading down the tunnel.
“No. Fighting.” Vetis raised his voice over the shivers and yells of surprise, making sure to catch the two brainless idiots’ gazes.
One was a six-foot, three hundred pound rapist and killer of ten little girls, all between the ages of five and ten. The other, shorter and leaner, was a serial killer who’d killed eighty Followers by cutting off their limbs one by one while administering drugs to prevent the victims from losing consciousness.
At Vetis’s iced stare, Serial backed off. Pedophiler wasn’t so compliant. The large recruit shifted to face Vetis like he was preparing for a stand down. The fuckwit. Inhaling and exhaling fast, Vetis whipped his breath across the room. A stream of air in the shape of a rope circled Pedophiler’s throat.
Pedophiler clawed at his neck trying to breathe. When his eyes began to bug out, Vetis released his control and the rope evaporated. Pedophiler fell forward, hands on knees, big gulps of air sawing in and out of his mouth. “I said, no fighting.”
Pedophiler glared, his expression promising retribution. He turned, pushing recruits out of his way as he stormed to the back of the cell. Vetis’s gaze drifted over the rest of the cattle, searching for other signs of disturbance.
There should be three other recruits in here. Anger stoked the embers in his gut.
Vetis had brought the college boys back with the new Fallen. Sonneillon should’ve been impressed with his work, his diligence. Except he’d asked the three to step close.
Sonneillon stared at the recruits each in turn. Instead of dismissing them to the holding cell as normal, he called upon Lilith.
“I’ve erased their memory of the last two hours. Take them topside.”
Lilith nodded, her gaze running appreciatively over their strong, youthful bodies.
“Hands off.”
Lilith no doubt pouted or even protested a bit, but Vetis focused on containing the tsunami of anger building inside him. How dare Sonneillon refuse his recruits? Who did he think—
“I’ve said this to you before, Vetis.”
Sonneillon’s low tones filtered through the red haze in his mind. Lilith and the recruits were already gone.
“Are you stupid? Or do you believe you can fool me? Which is it? Hmm?” Sonneillon leaned in. “Should I tell you again? Maybe it’s too difficult for you to grasp.”
Vetis’s hands were clenched so tight, his fingernails dug into his skin.
“Remember this, because it’ll be the last time I explain it to you. Followers with corruption embedded into their bodies don’t make it through the change. Your trick is a mirage that only blankets the soul. I’ll not bring unworthy beings into Apollyon’s presence. Do. You. Understand?”
The yanking of his sleeve pulled Vetis to the present.
He jerked the fabric from Kobal’s grasp. “What’s your problem?” The escalated shouts reached his ears. Vetis stormed through the tightly gathered crowd. Kobal bounced after him. In the center of the circle Pedophiler and Serial stood.
“What. The. Fuck? I told both of you to knock it off.” Before either could reply, a hush descended over the crowd, starting from the entrance way and circling inward. Shit.
The recruits scrambled to get out of Sonneillon’s way. His floor length black leather jacket whipped at the heels of his black boots as he crossed the floor.
Pedophiler cocked his hand back, ready to strike Serial. He paused in mid-swing, spying Sonneillon now next to him.
The recruit gave Sonneillon a once-over, smirking. “I suggest you back off, pretty boy.”
“You’ll cease fighting immediately.” Sonneillon addressed both of them in his low, soothing tone.
“I’m not going to do anything, except kick your—
Pedophiler blew into pieces as if a bomb detonated in his stomach. The Followers gasped and tried to avoid the many pieces of body parts, blood, and organs flying in all directions. Vetis managed to avoid most of the large mess, but flicks of blood landed on his hoodie. He ground his teeth together. The gory show hadn’t been necessary. Sonneillon could’ve burst the man into dust. The son of a bitch used any opportunity to show off.
Sonneillon wiped his cheek with a cloth he manifested from thin air. He circled to Serial.
Serial took two steps back and dropped his head.
The room was pin-drop quiet. “You’ve not been brought here to fight like animals. If that’s your wish tell me now and you can join your friend.” Sonneillon motioned to the pieces of Pedophiler strewn around. No one said anything.
No shit.
“You’ll be on the journey you’ve been promised soon. Stay quiet, eat, and rest, for you’ll need it.”
The room remained silent as he left the chamber. Vetis and Kobal followed. At the entranceway, Sonneillon turned, uncharacteristic anger showing in his narrowed eyes. “Pick up the mess. Keep them in order. If I have to come back it’ll be your insides that need to be cleaned.”
Vetis scowled at his retreating back until he was no longer in sight. He whirled on Kobal, who was remarkably clean. The stupid motherfucker must have poofed when the explosion hit. “Clean this up. I’m going to change.”
“But Sonneillon said for—”
“Your recruit started it. You’re going to clean his shit.” Without waiting for an answer, he stormed from the holding cell and toward his room. Vetis couldn’t stand another minute in this underground shithole with Sonneillon in charge. It was time to hit the fast forward button.
He couldn’t kill Apollyon’s second outright, though. It’d have to look like an accident.
Emma’s return to consciousness was slow. Things niggled at the corners of her mind. Important things. If she could only— She inhaled sharply, opened her eyes then snapped them closed.
Nope. Not a dream. Crap. Going back to sleep wasn’t going to magically transport her home. No Dorothy shoes and three clicks here. Besides her right hand was itching like craz—
Emma jerked to a seated position. Panic flared then eased. Not tied down. Her gaze followed the tube attached to the top of her hand to the IV bag hanging on a nail on the wall. The left hand was held by a large, cold, semi-rough, palm. Her eyes moved up the bare, muscled arm and shoulder to a pair of familiar eyes. Cade was watching her. Emma stiffened and with the slightest pull her hand was free.
He sat back slowly. “You are well?”
She nodded then quickly assessed her body for the truth. The pain in her head was gone. Stomach no longer ached. Besides a little weakness, she felt perfectly fine to go home. “What time is it? I must have slept the whole day.” While she waited for an answer she studied him from underneath her eyelashes. His pants were wrinkly and his shirt had a dark stain on the front. Rough, dark patches of hair covered his chin and jaw as if he hadn’t shaved in days. Emma tilted her head. Her gaze moved to the deep, dark circles underneath his eyes. No, that’s impossible. The itchiness in her hand pulled at her again. “When did I get an IV?”
Silence. He never answered her earlier question either. Uneasiness swirled through her. “Cade?”
“The IV was inserted by a doctor three days ago.”
Emma jerked ignoring the pain in her hand. Cade was already movin
g around the bed toward the IV bag. “I’ve been unconscious for three days?” Her voice rose on the end, panicked.
His eyes slid to her then back to the bag hanging on the nail. He nodded.
Holy shit. She’d been here for three days. “Wait. A doctor saw me?” Why couldn’t she remember this? Emma raked her brain, tried to force memories to surface. Anything from the last three days. There was nothing. The last conscious thought was of Cade helping her into bed and then tossing her cookies. Well, apples. Ew, gross, Emma.
Cade held her right hand gently in his while he removed the tube that connected her to the bag hanging on the wall. The movement was well executed. No hesitation.
“What’s wrong with me?”
“You were very sick.”
She latched onto the most important word. “Were?”
“Yes. You’re almost completely healed.”
The pounding of her heart began to ease. “So I had the flu or . . .” Emma fingered the bandage on her neck.
She didn’t jump when Cade gently pulled her hand down. “The sickness was more serious than the flu. You needed medication.” He let go of her. Reluctant it seemed.
“It was caused from the bite?”
Cade hesitated then nodded. “Something was on the knife the Fallen used to cut you.”
Fallen? Emma heard that word before. “How bad?”
“The prescribed medication has been working well. I was able to stop giving you the pain meds after the first day. I’ve checked your cut periodically. It’s improving. Four more days of antibiotics and you’ll be healed completely.”
His pronoun usage didn’t escape her attention. He took care of her? All by himself? “Pain medication?”
“You were in a lot of pain.”
“The last thing I remember was getting sick.” Emma hated not having these memories. Of Cade taking care of her, not of the pain. She wasn’t a masochist.
