by Kim Schubert
“How is she?” Mark asked. Jerry stood to greet them. Logan looked through the glass window, coldness seeping into his body.
He moved through the doors to her, not hearing Jerry’s response.
He knew she was on a breathing machine, he knew she had a feeding tube. Those were facts Jerry had relayed earlier in the day.
But seeing her, with a tube shoved down her throat inflating her chest, knocked his heart into his ribs with a painful cadence.
Logan watched the breathing machine inflate her lungs again. She was so still. So little when not telling him how to handle his business and causing a constant ruckus in his life. The room felt so empty without her vitality in it.
She couldn’t die.
He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t lose her. He searched internally for the confidence he’d held earlier. His chest was warm, no longer numb. She would wake up.
His mate would return to him.
Logan reached down, running his hand over hers. He never realized how small they were, how delicate and petite, how slender her long fingers. Or how much she needed lotion after all the poopy diapers she had changed.
He smiled at that thought. He may have known her body inside and out, but the small detail of her hands had escaped him. It wouldn’t anymore.
“Logan, I’m sorry to disturb you, but the kids are calling from the mansion,” Mark stated behind him.
Logan nodded. “Jerry, do you need a replacement?”
Jerry shook his head. “I got a few more hours in me.”
Logan nodded. “I’m going to head back to the kids and start bringing them over in shifts. They will want to see her and they will find a way to do it without me if I don’t.”
“I can stay with Jerry,” Mark offered.
Logan nodded, “I’ll be back soon.”
…
Logan opened the garage door and the screaming he had heard in the car boomed to full volume.
“You can’t keep me here!” Tommy yelled.
Logan entered the kitchen and followed the noise to the living room.
“Kid, stop it. Logan wants all of you to stay safe. Stop twisting. Dammit, Mindy, do not bite me!” yelled Caleb.
Logan turned the corner and Tommy looked up at him from where Caleb had him pinned.
“Get off of me!” Tommy screamed, desperation in his voice.
Logan nodded and Caleb released him. Tommy flung himself at Logan. “Is this her blood?” he yelled, frantically pulling at Logan’s shirt. Tommy was going to be tall; already he came to Logan’s chest.
“Yes,” Logan answered. He looked at the room filled with grieving children. Some were sniffling, others had a murderous glare.
“Is she okay?” Tommy whispered, hope making his voice soft.
“Sit down, Tommy. I’ve been on my feet in these damn dress shoes all day.” Logan guided Tommy to the couch, sitting in the armchair and turning to meet each gaze watching him closely.
“Olivia was shot three time with special bullets that I believe were meant for me and not her.”
“What was special about them?” Tommy asked.
“I could smell blood that wasn’t Olivia’s, wood, and salt. Mark picked up on something else. We sent the bullets with Blue for testing at Gunners.”
Tommy grunted, nodding. “Gunner delivers results.”
“Glad you approve. The rooftop the sniper shot from was on top of a rundown apartment complex. No one saw anything that they will admit to.”
“We need a vampire to glamour the truth,” Connie called out. “Or let us try.”
“That’s a good idea. Remind me to call Mal when we finish here. My first priority is to keep everyone safe. No one will be doing any investigation without backup. Olivia will have my head when she wakes up if anything happens to any of you.” Logan stared particularly hard and long at Tommy.
Tommy shrugged, shifting in his seat.
“She’s not awake?” Mindy asked in a small voice.
Logan pulled her into his lap. She leaned against his wide chest. “Where is Mercer?” he asked softly.
“Running down a lead, he dropped me here after school,” Mindy confided.
Logan nodded. “Good, this is the safest place for you.”
“She’s not awake?” Tommy repeated the question.
“No. When she was shot, I felt a numbness soaking into my limbs from my chest and I know … I know it was her dying.” Shocked gasps met his confession. “But later, when she was stabilized, that numbness turned into warmth. That’s how I know she is going to wake up. She is going to live.”
There wasn’t a dry eye in the house as he assured them, and himself, that Olivia The Executioner and Mate would live. He only hoped he wasn’t lying.
“Can we see her?” Mindy asked in a small voice.
“Yes, we are going to go over in groups. I have to warn everyone, she is on a breathing machine and a feeding tube.” Nods met his words. Everyone sat up in their seats, anxious to see her. “I’m going to take the younger kids first since they need to get to bed earlier, older kids last.”
Bear walked down the stairs, a pissed off kid in tow. “These children are some of the most talented escape artists I’ve ever seen,” he commented, releasing the pissed off teen. “If you want, Logan, we can caravan down there, Caleb and I can both drive.”
A wail sounded from above and Logan jerked his attention to Katie coming down the stairs, her tear-soaked face unable to hide any emotions.
“The poor little dear has been all out of sorts today,” Katie said, sliding Ginny into his arms. She clung to him, letting out a squeak before snuggling down against his shirt.
“Dammit,” Logan said, looking down at his bloodstained shirt.
“Katie—“ he began.
“On it,” she said, heading back upstairs for a new shirt.
Mindy reached out and patted Ginny’s back.
“Let me change and we will head out,” Logan stated. Nods met his command.
He hoped he was doing the right thing.
…
“The feather of a griffin?” I repeated to The Magician.
“Correct, that is the hardest item to obtain. If we can get that, the rest will be smooth sailing,” he confirmed.
I nodded. “Where does said griffin live?”
“Two days travel from here. We will pack up and leave at first light,” The Magician stated.
“This isn’t light?” I asked.
“No, this is night, day is much worse.”
“Awesome.”
“In the meantime, we need to find you accommodations for tonight.”
“She needs to sleep here, it’s the safest place for her,” Doyle stated.
“Certainly not the most comfortable,” The Magician countered.
“She is a soul. She does not feel cold nor heat nor hunger,” Doyle reminded him.
“I suppose you are correct,” The Magician agreed, moving farther into the long room.
I followed and he dusted off the blanket on a cot.
“It’s not much,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
I shrugged, “I’ve slept on worse.”
He sighed heavily.
….
The kids took it hard seeing Olivia in that condition. Logan questioned if he had done the right thing again. Olie never kept anything from them. She always said they had walked through hell, there wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle.
This, seeing their idol weak and unconscious, was looking to stretch those limits.
…
I expected the dust to settle around me in clouds when I sat down on the cot. It didn’t. I sighed, rubbing my head. I expected the dress to pull and bind as well; it didn’t.
So how the hell was I going to grab a griffin feather if I didn’t even impact the world around me? Depend on the possible father figure who sold me into slavery? Or the minotaur who claimed to be my guardian? Neither option sat well with me.
I reached down and rested
my hand on the cot. Tingles spread up my wrist, to my elbow, and up my shoulder before my arm passed through the cot.
Hmmm. But I was sitting on the cot.
I had expected to sit on the cot. Maybe if I expected to fall through… My ass started tingling. Okay, okay, I expect to sit on the cot!
Too late. My ass hit the cold stone floor. The tingling across my chest where the cot passed through me had me pushing up, you know, just in case it got stuck there. That would be a fun look. I turned, looking at my butt, seeing dust there.
“Nice,” I muttered.
The dress felt tight around my waist, excellent progress. I looked toward the door, an itch to explore nudging me. My trust toward The Magician and Doyle was limited.
So I walked to the door. Okay, I didn’t trust them, but I wanted to.
I expected my hand to land on the cool metal door pull. I smiled when there was no tingling as I pulled the door to me. I checked the hallway, seeing the torchlight illuminating pools of stone pathways and no living being. This was dangerous, I could admit that. I was in a world—dimension—I knew nothing about. Venturing out on my own could prove deadly.
I hesitated on that thought, but distrust pushed me into action and I slipped out the door. We had come from the left, so I went right, pulling the door closed behind me.
I took the dimly lit hallways slowly, trailing my hand over the rough stone, trying for more control over my transparent form. My feet moved silently over the hallway, which was beginning to curve to the right.
A sharp right turn in the hallway came next, but I continued forward into a huge room. The floor had been polished until it shone from the candlelit chandeliers hanging from the exceptionally high ceiling. Wine pillars surrounded the space and heavy gold accent pieces were displayed between the pillars.
I moved in front of one, two bodies, intertwined. The more delicate of the two figures smiled in glee, while the other grimaced in pain. I took in their interlaced bodies; there was only one thing they could be doing. I looked to the next figure before I scanned the room, finding it still empty.
I waited a moment, straining my ears to hear any warning sounds. Hearing and seeing nothing, I moved down the stairs and to the next gold piece.
Again, one figure smiled, her head thrown back, breasts perfectly captured mid bounce as she rode the man beneath her. He was restrained, his mouth opened, head turned away.
I’m all for woman power, but this looked violent and not consensual. Had I wandered into a female dominated world? Pending, of course, that my mind wasn’t actually playing tricks on me as my body healed.
I crossed the large room, scanning constantly, until I reached the opposite end and another statue. This one had the female poised over two men, each looking fairly miserable.
I sighed. I needed to get home. Moving up the three steps, I edged into the darkness tinged with red. More statues dominated the walls, this hallway in far better shape than the one I had come from. I stilled, hearing noises from ahead.
A woman cried out in what I assumed was pleasure. I paused, debating. It certainly didn’t seem like I should go any farther, especially since I had a fairly good idea of what was going on.
Yet something pushed me forward. A deep set need to know, to be able to dismiss the grotesque statues as poor attempts at art. I hugged the shadows, staying close to the walls, expecting to ghost through them, hoping that made me invisible.
It didn’t. I was delusional.
Torchlight flickered and more moans met my ears as I crept closer to the noises, crouching down. Gold everywhere blinded me—the walls, the statues, inlaid into the bed. Even the man who was restrained on the maroon and gold bed had gold chains around his wrists and ankles.
He didn’t appear to be in distress; if anything, he was eagerly awaiting the woman, who was fiddling with a contraption I didn’t understand.
She turned and my breath caught in my throat. Pale, porcelain skin, strawberry blond hair, and full lips. If The Magician was my father, I was betting she was claiming the role of my mother.
I had seen enough and backed quietly away.
My thoughts were so consuming that I ceased exploring and went back to The Magician’s makeshift room for me. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see any more. I was happy with my life, happy with Logan, with our new home, with Ginny and the kids. All this could do was dampen my joy.
I sat back down on the cot and dust billowed up around me. I coughed, great, I was managing this expectation thing better than I’d realized.
…
Logan took a silent carful of kids back home, with Bear and Caleb following. While his shirt was new, he could still scent Olivia’s blood on his skin. He didn’t want to wash it off.
Still silent, the three carloads of Olivia’s children filed back into the manor, not making conversation, just taking to their rooms.
He didn’t know what to say to them, he had no words of his own.
“You two staying on?” Logan asked.
Bear shrugged. “For a few more hours, until our replacements get here.”
Logan nodded, heading to the pantry for a protein bar. Bear cleared his throat. “What?” Logan asked.
“Have you given any thought to who is trying to kill you?”
Logan sat down heavily on the bar stool at the island. “No,” he answered, unwrapping the bar.
Bear moved around to the other side of the island, watching Logan closely. “I know I am echoing Olivia’s paranoia, but my money is on Zachariah.”
Logan crumpled up the empty wrapper, watching Bear. “Why?” he asked when his mouth was clear.
“Olivia said he threatened to take everything from her. Now that you are her mate, you are a very big part of her world. She has already lost Grams.”
“That had nothing to do with Zachariah,” Logan denied.
“Nothing that we know of. You know how damn crafty the vampires are. He was probably the one who sent those threatening photos.”
“Or Hash did to get closer to Grams.”
“Maybe, but do you think Hash thought of those threats by himself?”
“Humans can be just as dark as we can.”
“I know. I’m just saying we will need a target if she dies.”
Bear’s words froze Logan’s insides and his lion pushed to the surface. “She isn’t going to die.”
Bear was smart enough to look away. “We need a target when she wakes up. We need someone to pay for attacking the Mate.”
Logan took a deep breath, his eyes turning back to orbs of caramel. “We will, and when we do, we will have solid proof.”
Bear nodded, turning to head away. “Wait a second, Bear,” Logan said. “I need someone to take over as Compass Alpha of the North.”
Bear turned back, surprised. “Are you asking for recommendations?”
“No, I’m asking if you are interested.”
“Logan—“ Bear began.
Logan held up a hand. “I don’t give a damn about your sexual preferences.”
“But Olivia.”
Bear just let it hang out there. He had slept with Logan’s mate, before she was his mate, granted. Logan’s lion wanted to kill Bear, and maybe that was why he was sending him away.
“Olivia has a past, as do I. Answer the question.” Logan was being intentionally short. He didn’t want to discuss Olivia’s past or his own.
“Uh,” he cast a look at Caleb, entering the kitchen behind Logan.
“You can take Caleb, but he is too young to be your Beta.”
Bear bristled at that. “Not to mention he’s submissive,” Logan added.
Bear nodded. “Can we talk about it?”
“It’s okay, Bear. I don’t really want to be your Beta, anyways,” Caleb admitted with a shrug.
Bear sighed, watching his friend. “I accept.”
“Good.” Logan tossed the empty wrapper in the trash. “You leave tomorrow.”
Logan went upstairs, at least one item off his plate
. Pulling out his phone, he called Hudson. It went straight to voicemail. Hopefully that meant he was en route.
He scrolled through the other messages he had missed, cringing in guilt when he saw Darren’s, Call me.
He sat down heavily on the bed, Olivia’s scent wafting over him, before dialing.
“Are you okay?” Darren asked when he picked up.
Logan drew a breath to say he was fine, but hesitated. He wasn’t fine. His mate lay in a coma with a breathing machine, he didn’t know who was out to kill him, and he hadn’t said good night to Ginny.
He cleared his throat. “I’m fine,” he lied. At least Darren wouldn’t be able to pick up on the dishonesty over the phone.
“I’m going to ignore that lie.” Or not. “How is Olivia?” Logan could hear Kass in the background, trying to shush a fussing Harrison.
Logan scratched his head. “She’s in a coma with a breathing machine. But she’s stable.”
“Is she going to wake up?” Darren asked.
“I think so. When she was shot and dying,” Logan forced the distasteful word out, “I could feel a coldness from the mate bond, but once she was stable, it warmed back up.”
“That’s good,” Darren exhaled. “She’s going to wake up,” he repeated, believing it more.
“I hope so. We took all the kids over to see her tonight.”
“Was that wise?”
“I don’t know, but they’re resourceful. They would have found a way down there if I hadn’t taken them.”
Darren grunted. “That’s true enough. Who is trying to kill her?”
“I don’t think it was meant for her. I think it was meant for me.”
“Who the fuck is trying to kill you?” Darren yelled.
“Language!” Kass scolded from the background.
“I don’t know. The bullets were specially designed. Blue took them for Gunner to review.”
“What do you need me to do?” Darren asked.
Logan rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know what my next move is. The rooftop where the shooter was has been laced with wolfsbane.”
“Wolfsbane?” Darren repeated. “That’s what the asshole who tortured you used.”
Logan’s back arched, his lion pressing dangerously close against his skin. He still hadn’t healed from that attack completely. But for his packs’ sake, he did a damn fine job of pretending.
