by I. T. Lucas
Chapter 49: Sharon
“Stop!” Sharon called after Julian, who once again was ducking into his room within thirty seconds of her arrival.
He turned around. “Yes?”
“You are eating dinner with us, and I don’t want to hear any excuses about you not being hungry or watching a game in your room. You make me feel like I have a contagious disease or something.” Not that he could catch it even if she had it, but Julian didn’t know that Robert had spilled the beans about them being immortal.
What an emotional rollercoaster.
When he’d first told her, his very real fangs had convinced her that he was telling the truth. It had been a week ago, and they’d been going at each other like rabbits ever since, without condoms, but nothing had happened.
It hadn’t taken long for her to start doubting what she’d seen, until yesterday she had Robert cut his arm to provide further proof. Sure enough, the small cut had closed within a minute, and after two there had been no trace of it.
Bottom line, Robert really wasn’t human, and she wasn’t a Dormant.
If she were, she would’ve transitioned already. Robert was a bit fuzzy about the details, but he thought that three or four bites should do it. There had been quite a few more. If not for his saliva or the venom itself healing the puncture wounds, she would’ve looked like a pincushion.
Julian glanced at Robert who shrugged.
“You heard the lady. I wouldn’t argue if I were you.”
Smart man.
Sharon was in a bitchy mood and was just looking for an excuse to tear into anyone who dared annoy her.
Bloody damned period.
Why couldn’t she be one of those women who breezed through it?
Sharon was the unlucky one who suffered through every symptom possible and even some that no one heard of, like colorful spheres dancing in front of her eyes. Her doctor claimed it was part of the migraine headaches that attacked her during that time of the month, but she’d talked with enough migraine sufferers to know it was different than the corona they described.
Add to that mood swings worthy of a split personality, debilitating stomach pains, and leg cramps, and she was a peach to hang around a day before her monthly ordeal and throughout.
Poor Robert was coping as best he could, being an angel and tolerating her outbursts of bitchiness. It was good that she’d given him fair warning that his good-natured girlfriend was about to turn into a Godzilla. Otherwise, he would have thought she’d gone nuts.
Julian planted a grin on his too-handsome face and sauntered to the dining table. “It seems I will be joining you for dinner after all.” He winked at Robert. “What did you make today?”
“Brisket, baked potatoes, spinach, and a green salad.”
Smacking his lips, Julian unfolded the cloth napkin and put it over his knees. “Did I tell you already that I love you, man?”
Robert carried a tray loaded with the aforementioned dishes and put it in the center of the table. “You love my cooking.”
“Yes, that is true, but they say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”
Sharon snorted. Whoever invented that saying was an idiot. The way to a man’s heart was through his dick. That was all they thought about every minute of the day. Except, she was too much of a lady to say it out loud in front of Julian. The guy had such refined manners for someone so young. Perhaps he needed them because he was a doctor and had to be polite around his patients.
“Save it, Julian. I’ll feed you even if you don’t profess your love for me.” Robert cut a big chunk of the brisket and dropped it on Julian’s plate. “You must forgive me.” He glanced at Sharon. “I’m serving him first because the only way to shut him up is to fill his mouth with food.”
She waved a hand. “You’re forgiven.”
Poor guy was walking on eggshells around her. He was such a mensch, not making fun of her grumpiness and being so kind and understanding.
Cursing her hormones, Sharon wiped away the tears that had pooled in the corners of her eyes. She was a physical and an emotional mess.
Robert eyed her with concern written all over his face but wisely refrained from commenting as he put a small chunk of the brisket on her plate.
She hadn’t failed to notice that he’d chosen the best cut for her. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” As more tears threatened to spill, Sharon reached for the potatoes.
“You’re very welcome.” Robert loaded his plate with brisket and spinach while waiting for her to be done with the potatoes.
“This glass dish is so heavy,” she said. Her hand was trembling from the effort of holding it up.
Robert took it from her. “It’s the potatoes. I overloaded it.”
It made sense, but when she lifted the salad bowl, and her hand trembled again, Sharon wondered if a migraine was coming on. She was used to the strange symptoms preceding it, like confusion, dancing color spots, and forgetfulness. A tremor, though, was a new addition.
Watching her hands, Julian asked with a frown, “Does it happen often?”
She shook her head. “Only when I have a high fever. It weakens me, and everything feels like a huge effort. But I don’t have a fever now.” She touched her forehead.
“Do you mind if I check?” He put his napkin on the table and pushed his chair back.
“I’m probably getting a migraine. All kinds of weird shit happens when it’s on the way.”
“I’ll be right back,” Julian said as he ducked into his room.
Did he have a thermometer there? And if he did, what for?
It wasn’t as if his patients were getting fevers. Come to think of it, why did immortals need a doctor at all?
A moment later Julian came back with one of those contraptions they used in the doctor’s office. “Would you mind pushing your hair back?” he asked.
Tucking a few strands behind her ear, Sharon tilted her head to give him access. On the other side of the table, she heard Robert making a noise in his throat that sounded like an angry dog about to attack.
Julian put the tip of the device in her ear and lifted a hand toward Robert. “It will only take a second.”
As the thing beeped, Julian removed it and looked at the display. “Ninth-nine point five. You have a low fever. Anything else going on?”
Damn, it was embarrassing. True, he was a doctor, but he was also a young, handsome guy. “I’m on my period.”
She wasn’t sure immortal females had them. Maybe she should explain? But without being obvious because she was not supposed to know.
“I get all the worst symptoms women experience with menstruation. Migraines, cramps, mood swings. It’s not fun.”
Julian nodded. “No, it’s not. Do you take something for the symptoms?”
She grimaced. “I take Motrin. It helps with some of the aches.”
“The fever might be caused by your period, or you might be coming down with something.”
“Right, I forgot to mention that I usually get sick right after. It works like a charm. The period ends and a cold or the flu starts. Do you think menstruation lowers my immune system?”
“Absolutely.”
“So it’s not a case of bad mood causing illness.”
“The body and mind are one system. If one is not doing well, the other is affected.”
Well, duh.
“That being said, the menstrual cycle is known to affect the immune system in some women.”
When the guys were done scarfing up the last of the food, Sharon picked up her plate and pushed away from the table.
Robert took it out of her hands. “Julian will help me clean up. You can sit on the couch and put your feet up, and I’ll bring you coffee when we are done. Or do you want tea?”
The freaking tears were back. She couldn't help it. This man was just too kind, too understanding, too everything.
“Okay. Thank you.” She rushed to the living room before he could see the stupid tears
.
After kicking her shoes off, she put her feet up on the ottoman, leaned back, and closed her eyes. The clunking of dishes and low male murmurs coming from the kitchen were oddly soothing. Sharon felt the irritation that was her constant companion during her menses start to ease. Even her stomach stopped cramping as much, which it usually did more after eating a heavy meal, not less.
Was it a psychological effect?
Could kindness and understanding cure menstrual pain?
It didn’t seem likely. On the other hand, according to Julian, the mind and body were like a self-feeding loop. If one was doing well, the other was affected, and the other way around.
The guys were so nice to her.
But she wasn’t sick, not really, and she shouldn’t be sitting on her butt while they did all the work. She should help in the kitchen. Robert had done the cooking, so he shouldn’t be doing the dishes and making coffee as well. It wasn’t fair.
If it were her, she would’ve been pissed if anyone treated her like that.
With a sigh, Sharon put her feet down and pushed up off the couch. She must’ve risen too fast because her vision blurred and those damn rainbow-colored circles started dancing in front of her eyes.
Leaning her shins against the couch, she waited for the sensation to pass, but then one of the guys decided to dim the lights.
Sharon opened her mouth to yell at whomever had that bright idea, but no sound came out of her throat. A split moment later even the dim light flickered out, plunging her into darkness.
Chapter 50: Robert
“How are you holding up?” Julian asked in a near whisper.
Robert loaded the last plate into the dishwasher and turned around. “What exactly are you referring to?”
Julian tilted his head toward the living room. “Who, not what. Sharon is cranky as hell. It’s not easy to deal with someone who suddenly is not the same person you’ve grown to care for.”
It seemed Julian had never had to deal with difficult people, or he would’ve known that Sharon’s irritation was nothing to get worked up about.
“The irritable mood will pass. I’ve dealt with much worse. My ex-commander was a monster. He could turn from charming to murderous in a blink of an eye.”
Robert wiped his hands with a dishrag and leaned against the counter. “On one hand Sharim, or Sebastian—the name he’d adopted for that mission, was good to us. He took the time to get to know each of his soldiers and provided us with perks whenever he could. But he was unpredictable, and we never knew what would trigger his anger. His soldiers were afraid to breathe the wrong way around him.”
Julian chuckled. “I know the type. My chief at the hospital was like that. Not the murderous part, though he had the power to kill a resident’s career.”
First World problems, Robert thought.
As the coffee machine announced it was done brewing with a loud beep, Robert filled up three cups and handed two to Julian. “Take these to the living room.”
“Yes, boss.”
The third cup in one hand and the creamer in the other, Robert followed Julian to the living room where they found Sharon asleep on the couch.
“The meat must’ve been too heavy for her.” Robert put the cup on the coffee table.
Julian’s two were still in his hands as he stood and stared at Sharon. “Take the cups, Robert.” His tone, which was serious and commanding at the same time, implied something was amiss. The guy wasn’t serious about anything other than his profession.
“What’s wrong?” Robert asked as he took the cups from his hands and placed them on the coffee table.
Julian knelt next to Sharon and touched two fingers to the pulse point on her neck. “The way her body is arranged suggests she fainted rather than fell asleep. But her pulse is strong, so that’s good.”
Could human females lose too much blood during their menses and faint because of that? Robert felt like an idiot for not knowing and debated whether to ask Julian or not.
The guy pulled out the thermometer from his pant pocket and checked Sharon’s fever again. “It’s gone a bit higher.”
“Should we wake her?” Robert asked.
Julian nodded. “Could you bring her a cup of water?”
“Sure.” He hurried to the kitchen.
“Sharon, wake up, honey,” Julian said softly. When there was no answer, he touched her shoulder and repeated, “Sharon, wake up, sweetheart, I just want to make sure you're okay, and then you can go back to sleep.”
Sharon groaned and turned to the other side.
Julian took the glass from Robert and then turned to Sharon. “I need you to open your eyes, Sharon.”
Under normal circumstances, watching Julian leaning so close to Sharon, listening as he talked to her in that soothing tone of his that was way too intimate, Robert’s jealousy would’ve roared by now. But something was wrong with her, and Julian was a doctor and could help her.
“I felt dizzy,” she murmured. “It started with those colorful spheres, and then I blacked out.” She opened her eyes. “I don’t remember lying down on the couch.”
“You probably fainted and just dropped sideways. Let me help you get more comfortable.” He lifted Sharon’s feet, which were still on the floor, and put them on the couch, then tucked a pillow under her head.
“Would you like a drink of water?” Julian asked.
“Yes, please.”
“I can do that.” Robert snapped the glass off the coffee table, gave Julian a slight shove, and crouched next to Sharon. “Here you go, love.” He propped her head gently.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “But I think I can hold the glass up by myself.” She reached for it.
“As you wish.”
Sharon took a few small sips and handed him the glass back. “Any idea why I fainted, Julian? That never happened to me before.”
Smart man that he was, Julian took a couple of steps back so as not to crowd them. “It was probably because you ate a large dinner. It can be caused by postprandial hypotension, low blood pressure in layman’s terms, or low blood sugar. The first one is more common among older folks, so low blood sugar is the more likely culprit. You should get it checked.”
“Can you do it for me?”
“I don’t have a lab here. You should have your regular doctor run some tests.”
Robert held his breath. Sharon knew where Julian worked. The question was whether she’d remember she was not supposed to know that.
“But you have a thermometer,” she said.
Robert’s shoulders sagged in relief.
Julian chuckled as he pulled the device out of his pocket again. “This thing? It’s a present from my mother. I’m not taking it with me to work.”
“Speaking of work.” Robert looked into Sharon’s eyes. “I want you to call Eva and tell her you’re sick. And I want you to stay here tonight and tomorrow and rest.”
“But you and Julian are going to be gone all day. What am I going to do all alone in here?”
“I work in the building and Julian works nearby. Both of us can be here on a moment’s notice.”
“I’ll come and visit you during the day,” Julian offered. “With Robert,” he added quickly when Robert glared at him.
“You guys are fussing over me as if it’s a big deal. I’m a little sick because of the freaking period, that’s all. That’s no reason to skip work.”
“I can give you a sick note for your boss,” Julian said.
“It’s not like Eva is going to be mad because I missed one day. We are not all that busy lately. But I like working and hate doing nothing.”
“I have every episode of Game of Thrones on DVD,” Julian said. “You can binge watch it. If you’re up to it, that is.” He arched a brow, issuing a challenge.
“I’ve seen them all, but I don’t mind watching again. Jaime is hot.”
“Then it’s settled. I’ll bring it here.” He turned and headed to his room.
“Who is Jaim
e?” Robert asked.
“A character from the series.” She reached for him and cupped his cheek. “But you have nothing to worry about. You’re much hotter than the actor playing him.”
“Good, you just saved that poor schmuck’s life.”
Sharon laughed. “I see that Eva is rubbing off on you.”
He had no idea what she was talking about. “And you’re saying this because?”
“You said schmuck. That’s something Eva would’ve said.”
Robert rubbed his jaw. “Isn’t it part of the English language?”
Sharon laughed again. “I guess it is.”
Chapter 51: Turner
Dripping with sweat had never felt so good.
In his hotel room, Turner pushed through the last set of sit-ups, then moved to the after-workout stretching routine.
Regrettably, there wasn’t enough free space in the room for martial arts katas, but old-fashioned lunges, sit-ups, and pushups provided enough of a workout to produce a good sweat.
There was plenty of space to practice in the suite of rooms Sandoval had reserved for him and Alfred, but naturally, Turner and his hacker weren’t staying there, even though Sandoval assigned two goons to guard them. With how easy it had been to slip by them, they weren’t the guy’s best. And if they were, it would explain why Sandoval’s network was leaking like a sieve and why his nephew had been snatched with such humiliating ease.
If he could take on new assignments, Turner would’ve sold Sandoval more of his services, performing background and security checks on the guy’s personnel.
It could have lined Turner’s pockets nicely. But until he attempted transition and either emerged immortal, unchanged, or dead, he wasn’t going to take people’s money for a job he wasn’t certain he would be around to deliver.
Done with the stretches, Turner wiped his face with the hotel towel and headed for the shower.
The workout had been invigorating, physically and mentally.
It seemed that his mood had been improving at the same rate the side effects from the chemo were diminishing. Regaining mastery of his body felt great. Turner felt sharp, strong, and ready to take on the world.
