by J. K. Coi
Apparently small talk was now over, because without any further warning, the portal opened again, the Nina grabbed Gray by the neck and they were both moving through it.
Rhys couldn’t just let them get away. With a yell, he jumped after the pair, vaguely aware that Amy was screaming his name. Damn it, he was going to be too late. The aperture was already halfway closed when Rhys’ hand brushed across the Nina’s arm. He stretched farther, as far as he could, yanking the demon back to him with all his might just as the light went out with Gray on the other side.
It hissed in anger, turning on him fiercely. Her eyes flashed with fury, but he had succeeded in keeping it here, and he didn’t waste any time pulling his sword from the scabbard at his back. The demon shrieked and attacked him, trying to draw his blood with its sharp, deadly claws. One drop of blood and he would be done for. The demon’s parasites would find their way inside him and take over.
“Amy, get the hell out of here,” he yelled at her as she made her way toward him.
“Forget it. I’m not leaving you,” she cried, standing at his side, Gray’s dagger clutched in her hand.
“Amy. Leave. I can’t protect you and kill it at the same time.”
“Then don’t protect me. I’m protecting you.” Amy didn’t let him speak. “Just do what you have to do, but I’m staying.” The demon tried to claw her with its sharpened talons and she jumped out of reach just in time, swiping at it with Gray’s dagger.
“Rhys! Do it!”
“The claws and teeth are poisoned. Don’t let it cut you,” he shouted.
“Don’t worry about me. Just hurry up and finish it!”
Rhys had to laugh at the way she gave him orders even in the middle of a battle, with both of their lives in peril.
His laughter, as inopportune as it seemed, released some of the anger and the need for revenge that had been eating away at him since he had burned Duncan’s contaminated body in the woods months ago. He knew it was infinitely more important for him to get Amy out of danger. She had shown him what life could be, how precious it was, and he was no longer willing to risk either of theirs for something so small as revenge.
Rhys raised his sword high in the air and with a quick, sure swing, he cleaved the demon’s grotesque head from its body, whereupon both disintegrated in a blinding flash of green fire.
Chapter Seventeen
“As my death now seems to have been averted, at least for the time being, I think I’d like to pass out please,” Amy whispered, pain slurring her words. She fell to her knees by Baron, wanting to examine his injuries.
“I need some…supplies…for Baron.” She was practically comatose she was so exhausted, and her arm, which had agreeably withheld complaint until this very moment, now throbbed painfully as the adrenaline coursing in her bloodstream thinned.
“We’ll help him, sweetheart. He’ll be fine.” Rhys knelt and lifted her gently into his arms, being careful not to jostle her broken arm as he did so.
She was about to lose consciousness and welcomed the coming darkness. She just hoped nobody tried to set her arm for her while she was under. For something like that, she wanted to be awake and aware so she could make sure it was done properly, even though it was going to hurt like hell.
As her vision started to go fuzzy, Amy’s head drooped and she rested it on Rhys’ shoulder. She had to smile at the gentle way he was cradling her in his arms and the tenderness of his lips brushing across her forehead. Then her eyelids. Then the bridge of her nose.
She was out before he got to her mouth.
Amy remembered coming to long enough to direct Roland and Gideon in removing the bullet from Baron’s side, and remembered supervising them as they dressed the wound and drowned him in painkillers.
Rhys had gently cleaned the blood from her face and hands, and she had instructed him in the correct way to set her broken arm, but then she must have passed out again, because she recalled nothing more until waking up just now.
She decided to try to sit up even though her body ached everywhere, her arm screamed in protest and her head thumped like a jackrabbit on speed behind her eyes and in her temples.
She gritted her teeth and swung her feet determinedly to the ground. Then she sat very still for a moment before brushing a shaking hand through her limp, stringy hair. Her eyes remained tightly closed against the waves of pain.
“Do I look as bad as I feel?”
Rhys chuckled before sitting down on the bed by her side. “Beautiful. The most beautiful sight I’ve ever beheld.” Amy cocked her head, sensing the truth in him, as well as an overwhelming sadness.
“Pah, liar,” she snorted. “You are such a horrible, shameless liar.”
“Never to you.” Rhys pulled her close, an arm around her shoulders. He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and leaned in close to press a light, sweet kiss to her mouth that was done almost before his touch had even registered.
“Ah,” she sighed heavily, snuggling into the crook of his arm. Just his nearness made her feel ten times better. Still, she could have done with some heavy duty Tylenol Three with Codeine.
“So, are we free of the Immortal-killing madman?”
Rhys paused. “Well, it seems that Gray made some kind of deal with Mastema to deliver up the Guardian in return for a one-way ticket to his final hereafter. He was so desperate to stay out of Hell that he bargained away his soul to the eternal waters.”
“What’s that?”
“Basically, it’s the end. Of everything. No Heaven, no Hell, no coming back. Ever.”
“Oh,” Amy murmured. “Well, considering his last couple hundred years, I guess I can understand why he’d want that.”
“Anyway, Mastema must have gotten impatient with Gray’s failure to produce results and decided Gray had outgrown his usefulness. When I pulled the Nina back from the half-open portal, Gray had already passed through. The door closed behind him, and so we may never know what tortures were perpetrated on him in the demon realm before he died—if he was even granted that courtesy when they were done with him.”
Amy shivered in an attempt to keep the visuals at bay. “What do we do now?”
“There’s nothing we can do. He made his deal with the devil, and we wouldn’t have a hope in hell of getting to him even if it wasn’t suicide to try.”
Rhys could see Amy struggling with her belief systems, trying to think her way around the death and bloodshed she’d been exposed to today, and every day since they’d met.
Not for the first time, he had to remind himself that Amy hadn’t been meant for this life, no matter the Guardian’s fucking harebrained notion of destiny.
Rhys’ world wasn’t about life, but about death, and Amy was a healer, a doctor. Every moment she spent here with him brought her more and more violence, and she’d already suffered enough for a lifetime.
He had already decided that she couldn’t stay here. No matter how he felt about her, how much he wanted to keep her close to him, he wouldn’t put her through this day after day.
Immortality was for such a long time, after all.
The next afternoon Amy entered her own apartment and walked into an alternate universe. It looked like her world and smelled like her world, but she knew that she could never truly fit here again.
Of course it was she who had changed, not the world around her, but that didn’t make her feel any less of an outsider in her own home.
Rhys had dropped her off at the hospital that morning so she could have a proper cast put on her arm. He’d wanted to stay, but her nosy but well-meaning coworkers would die of curiosity and suspicion if she showed up battered and broken in the company of a man they’d never seen or heard of before. As it was, she’d had to do some pretty fast talking when Celia started grilling her about her injuries.
Amy managed to deflect most of the questions, and somewhere along the way she scored an extra week off before she was due back in the ER…hopefully, not as a patient. But by the time she wa
s released, Amy was exhausted from trying to keep her stories straight.
Taking in the familiar furnishings placed around her apartment, the books, the slightly wilted plants, and the layer of dust on her coffee table, Amy wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. She definitely didn’t want to look in the refrigerator.
She was glad to have a little bit of time to herself, though. Last night Rhys had hovered until his solicitousness had fairly stifled her. It hadn’t helped that she could feel every overprotective impulse he was having and sensed that he was fighting some important inner battle.
They were going to have to talk. Rhys wasn’t used to having to deal with emotion. He would probably refuse to admit that he even felt anything so mortifying as worry or doubt…or love. But Amy wasn’t going to let him brood any longer. Whatever it was, she was going to force him to get it off his chest so that they could deal with it and move on.
That’s why she’d asked him to pick her up here instead of agreeing to wait for him at the hospital. She’d made up an excuse about wanting to pick up some things, when in reality she needed some privacy with him, especially since the Hardy Boys were all still hanging out at the warehouse.
She had a feeling that this was going to be her only chance to get to the bottom of why Rhys had suddenly erected those old barriers against her, and unfortunately she believed this conversation was either going to make or break whatever it was they had going for them.
An hour later, Rhys rapped on the front door, and when Amy answered it she knew she was in for the fight of her life. His eyes were hard and distant and he looked more like the dangerous stranger than he had since that first night.
Stepping aside, she snarled at him, “Snap out of it, Rhys.”
“What?” Rhys questioned, but he didn’t look very surprised at her outburst.
“I know what you’re thinking and you can shove it. I don’t want to hear about how you’ve talked yourself into saying goodbye.”
“I thought you were just empathic, not psychic,” he retorted.
“Yeah, well your feelings are about as violent as an erupting volcano right now. I can feel the rumbles from miles away, and I don’t have to be empathic to notice either.” Amy set her good hand on her hip and faced him down. Hopefully the authoritative stance would convey to Rhys how powerful she could be, especially when it came to fighting for their future.
Rhys couldn’t face her, so he walked across the room to stare out of Amy’s big picture window instead. It wasn’t long ago that he’d been standing just outside this very window. At the time he had convinced himself it was for her own protection.
Hah. Ever since she‘d stormed into his life, it seemed he‘d been trying to keep her safe, to protect her even from himself…particularly from himself. And none of it had done any good.
“Amy,” he started, “after all that’s happened to you since you met me, can you honestly say that you want this to be your life—demons, darkness and killing? What about your work at the hospital? What about having a family, and friends?”
Amy shook her head. “Why don’t you let me worry about those things? You can’t be responsible for me like that. I’m a big girl and I’ll find a way to work it out.”
“It’s not so easy. Don’t you know how many Immortals before you and I have tried? Most of them fail because there’s no way to reconcile the two worlds we live in. The only difference between acceptance and horror is a choice like the one that Gray made.”
“It isn’t your decision to make for me,” she answered.
Rhys still faced the window and his reflection was implacable and determined. She approached, placing a hand softly on his shoulder.
He sighed heavily before turning to her. “It has to be my decision, don’t you see that? I’m the one who would bear the pain if you died because of me.”
“What about me? What about my pain?” she asked, her eyes like molten silver, shining with unshed tears. “Do you love me?”
“God, Amy.” He remembered he had promised her no lies. He wanted to reach for her but he shouldn’t. He held her at arm’s length, resisting the urge to pull her into his embrace. “It’s because of how much I love you that I need to do this.”
“That’s ridiculous. I don’t understand.”
“For so many years I simply existed, but it’s not like I had some noble purpose for living. I lived to fight, but I did it for no other reason than because it was my job. Then you came and you made my heart beat again, you made me feel something again. With that comes fear, Amy. It hurts inside…more than I can stand. I can’t constantly be wondering if this will be the day that I fail you.”
“Argh! You are so stupid!” Amy balled her fists at her sides. She was trying, but couldn’t keep her frustration from getting the best of her. She knew she was losing him, and he was using the same excuses on her that she had used in the past. Excuses to stay uninvolved in matters of love. But whereas Amy had finally seen how wrong she had been, it seems Rhys thought differently.
“Don’t you see, even if you and I both lived normal, safe, human lives and you were a friggin’ accountant, every day would still be a gamble for each of us. Even if we weren’t doing what we do, then I might get run over by a bus next week, or be diagnosed with cancer when I’m forty. That doesn’t mean we should throw in the towel before the fight even starts. You don’t realize yet how strong our love can be, how strong you make me. When we’re together, I trust you to keep me safe. I know that you will.”
“I almost lost you twice already,” he reminded her.
Amy groaned. “But there wasn’t anything you could have done differently, and you didn’t lose me. Here I am.”
“Maybe I didn’t this time,” he said, “But there would be a next time, Amy. And what will happen then?”
“There will probably be a next time whether you’re here or not, but you’ll never know unless you stick around. You’ll protect me, and if not, I can damn well take care of myself.”
She spun away, trying to swallow the hard lump in her throat. What was she supposed to do when he made all the decisions and wouldn’t even consider another way? “So it doesn’t matter that this isn’t what I want?” she asked in exasperation.
“Amy—”
“Wait. Before you answer, think about what you’re doing to us. I love you, Rhys. I want to be with you. But if you’re not willing to fight for it with me, I can’t be strong enough for the both of us. Together, our strength would be immeasurable, but alone I just can’t. And if you leave…I won’t sit around here pining for you.”
“I know.” His tone was unwavering in its finality.
“Fine. Then get the hell out.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Dr. Bennett?” whispered a nurse, as she politely poked her head through the door. She must be new if she was still bothering to whisper, Amy thought.
Sure enough, Celia strolled in behind the newbie. “Hey girl, are you awake?” she called loudly.
Amy lay on one of the four serviceable cots located in the doctor’s retiring room, an arm draped over her eyes to keep out the light that was coming in from the open doorway of the otherwise darkened room.
“Amy—”
“Yes, I’m awake,” she sighed.
“Dr. Torres is asking for you.” Dr. Torres was new on staff, a brilliant heart surgeon who had transferred from the Cleveland Clinic in Ohio. He was gorgeous, single and apparently interested in Amy. Amy had turned down his first offer of dinner, but finally agreed to coffee with the hunky doctor last night and she’d been surprised when she had a good time. He was intelligent and well-rounded, able to talk about more than just medicine, which she appreciated. She‘d almost been able to forget for a few minutes…
“He wants you to assist on that CABG that came in last night,” Celia said. CABG was hospital speak for coronary artery bypass graft, a surgery designed to improve blood flow to the heart. Amy had admitted the patient the day before and had been monitoring him,
along with the very competent senior resident Antonio Torres.
“Okay, I’m coming. Can you give me just a minute?”
“Sure.” Celia turned to go, but glanced back at Amy and seemed to change her mind. “Honey, you can tell me to take a flying leap if you want to, but I’m a little worried about you. Ever since you came back to work, you’ve been like a woman possessed, pounding yourself into the ground. Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need to talk or something?”
Amy sat up slowly, the cast on her arm feeling heavy and cumbersome.
“I’m fine. Really. I guess I just need to get a good night’s sleep.”
“Trust me, I understand tired just as well as the next doctor. But Amy, you’ve put in more time here in the last few weeks than ten interns. You don’t have to worry about trying to prove yourself to anybody. You’re a gifted surgeon and everyone knows it.” She laughed. “Although you won’t be for long if you die of sleep deprivation.”
Amy smiled in response. “Thanks, Celia. I’m really not trying to prove anything to anyone.” Except maybe to myself. “I just…need to be at work right now. You know?”
“Sure, I understand that.” She hesitated. “You know, when Ron died, work was probably the only thing that kept me sane. Just do me a favor, will you? Keep in mind that a doctor who uses her patients as an excuse not to deal…well, that’s one reason why liability insurance is so damn expensive.”
Amy wouldn’t deny practicing some calculated avoidance therapy at work, but she was determined to put her past behind her and focus on the future. “I’m fine. And I’m careful. Promise.” She gave her friend a small smile. “Thanks for worrying about me.”
“All right, I’ll lay off now. Just take it easy, okay? Otherwise, you’re going to burn out in a few months what is supposed to be a fulfilling, lifelong career.”
Amy looked down at the floor, choking back the hysterical laughter that threatened to erupt. Celia had no idea that the notion of a “lifelong career” for Amy had recently taken on an entirely new meaning.
