by fox, angie
"It didn't follow me. Someone put it there."
"Perhaps," he said.
Cold fear pooled in my veins. "It's evil," I told him. At the very least it was disturbing. I didn't like how it had shown up in my locker. Or that it had seemed to take on a life of its own.
"It's a tool." He ran his hand over the bundle, like he was testing it. "Our lack of understanding doesn't make it evil."
He would have to say that.
"This isn't something you want to rush," he said plainly. "We'll take our time and do the right thing. If this is nothing, it should be clear if we give it time. If it's more... well, we'll have to see what happens."
I groaned. As much as I needed McArio's advice, there were times when I really didn't like what he had to say.
He knew it, too. "You're young."
"Compared with everyone around here."
"And in such a hurry," he continued, as if I hadn't said a word. "Will the world end if you don't have every answer right away?"
I'd like to think so. "Yes."
McArio barked out a laugh. "We're blessed to have you."
"That's one way of putting it."
"If the Lord can have patience, so can I." The twinkle was back in his eye. "Now tell me. Is this the only thing you came to see me about?"
I wanted to say yes. "No."
We watched the puppy settle onto a doggy bed sculpted from a bedpan and topped with one of Father's old shirts. My thoughts traveled back to Galen. "I took the knife out of a special ops soldier. It broke off inside him."
Father's eyes softened. "And he died."
"I saved his life," I said. "Of course that doesn't mean he's willing to tell me where he was when he was stabbed—or even who did it." I flushed, caught up in the emotion of it. "He says he doesn't know that part."
Father nodded, listening. "What else?"
"What makes you think there's anything else?" I asked.
Father simply waited.
Damn, he wasn't going to make this easy.
Somehow, no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't admit to Father that I'd touched the man's soul.
It was too deeply embedded, too real to explain. It was almost as if saying it out loud would diminish it. And I wanted to preserve that connection. Treasure it where nothing and nobody could touch it. It was the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to me.
Galen had affected me in ways I was still trying to understand.
"Petra?" Father asked.
"I'm attracted to him." There. I'd given him something. "The whole camp thinks we're doing it," I snorted.
Father tilted his head, as if what I'd just told him wasn't completely crazy. "What do you think is wrong with being attracted to a man?"
He had to be kidding. "I'm a doctor!"
Father rubbed at his chin. "He's a demi-god."
"Very much so." I couldn't believe he might actually like me back.
Father gave a small smile. "You haven't allowed yourself to feel. At first, I wondered if it was because of your accident when you first came. Then there is an adjustment to the difficulties of your job and of losing good soldiers. Now I wonder if you've just forgotten how."
He was wrong. I felt plenty. I just couldn't get it out. I swallowed the memories and the pain. "He's still my patient."
"Like that's ever stopped anyone around here." McArio's mouth twisted. "If half the people 'visiting the good father' actually visited the good father, I'd have a lot more company."
"Remember you're talking to a Cajun Catholic. We were born to feel guilt."
"It's more than that," he said gently.
Maybe he was right. Maybe this place had damaged me more than I even knew. I had no idea what normal felt like anymore.
Worse, I realized with a start, this was the first time I'd experienced any real attraction to a man since I'd been with Marc. And he'd been dead ten years.
"Give yourself permission to be human," father said. "You deserve to be happy."
The puppy began to snore, and Father broke out into a big grin. "Besides," he said, turning his attention back to me. "It's not against army regulations."
I stared at him.
He cocked his head. "Let me guess. You've never read the handbook."
"I've skimmed parts," I said defensively.
"Right. Well, look at it this way. Have you seen how some of these creatures who call themselves gods have acted over the centuries?"
"Good point."
"Some of them have experienced truly tragic attractions. What you seem to be experiencing is quite natural. And healthy."
Too healthy.
Father bowed his head. "Now let's pray."
We bowed our heads as the hellhound lay on his back, dreaming and chasing imaginary hellcats.
***
I felt a little better as I left McArio's hut. Sure, I still had a dagger in my pocket, and more questions than answers, but he'd given me a lot to think about. And I had to admit Fitz was pretty cute.
Shadows rose up around me as I approached the fork in the road. Maybe I should have taken McArio up on his offer to walk me home. He always seemed to avoid the pranks. I hoped that wasn't because he was pulling a lot of them.
A cold wind blew in from the desert as I glanced back at the light in the distance. No, I wouldn't do it. The man should be retired. He didn't need to be walking me through the minefield in the middle of the night.
I'd made it through once before and I'd make it again. I tightened my jacket around me and checked my watch. At least it was late enough that most of the loving couples should be back from the rocks. Hopefully they'd sprung most of the traps already.
One step at a time. I edged past the Hickey Horns bus, barely avoiding the skeleton of a helicopter, half scrapped for parts. Only this time, it felt different.
Icy cold settled on the back of my neck. It felt like someone was watching.
My torch had burned down while I'd been inside McArio's hut. The low flame cast deep shadows, barely illuminating the ground in front of me. The minefield seemed taller than before, longer. I could see my breath in puffs in front of me.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
I was a doctor. I was logical. Thinking types didn't get scared of the dark.
My galloping heart disagreed with me.
Fuck a duck. I searched for the barbecued VIP shower tent. Where was that charred heap of junk? Lord help me if I got lost in the maze of metal.
It reminded me of being a sweaty-palmed kid in my dad's basement. I could almost feel the beasts lurking in the shadows.
Skreek!
I lurched forward as something landed with a thud behind me. Pranks be damned. I took off running.
Skreek!
It caught my jacket and yanked me backward.
"Oh my god," I darted forward, tearing free. It grabbed for my legs.
I zigzagged like Walter Payton, or more like a panic-slapped doctor running for her life. Holy hell. This had better be a prank.
Skreek!
I could hear it scuttling behind me as I made a mad dash down the path, leaping over rocks and twisted metal. My torch was useless but the moon was high. I focused everything I had on the patch of ground right in front of me. No way was I going to fall down like some horror-movie twit.
It was gaining. I had to find cover. I could feel the ground shaking behind me.
There! I spotted a broken-down jeep to my left. It'd have to do. I scrambled inside as an immense claw struck the ground, sending up a shower of rocks.
No prank.
Blood pounding in my ears, rocks in my hair, I slammed the door.
"What the hell was that?" I'd never seen anything like it.
The inside of the jeep smelled like dirt and decay. I was sitting in the passenger seat, with the driver's-side door across from me closed. Okay, good. The roof looked relatively intact. Hallelujah. And it was a hardtop. I wanted to kiss whoever had ordered a sturdy roof for this hunk of junk.
&
nbsp; My eyes watered from the stench of lighter fluid. That's when I realized I was still holding a lighted torch. Oh shit.
I nearly dropped it when a giant claw smashed into the window next to me. The safety glass fractured into a jagged web.
Skreek!
No way the window would hold against another hit. I scrambled for the driver's seat as the creature slammed its claw straight through. It sliced into the seat at head level, sending foam cushion bits flying.
I seared the giant red claw with my torch.
Skreek! The creature shuddered.
Ha! "The monster doesn't like fire." I waved my torch at a claw the size of a guillotine blade.
My palms burned as it clamped around my weapon and yanked the torch straight out of my hands.
The monster held it aloft and as I pressed my back against the driver's-side door, I got a no-holds-barred look at the largest scorpion I'd ever laid eyes on. It was at least six feet long, with a reddened body, grasping claws, and a segmented tail curling over its back into a pointed stinger bigger than my head.
The creature waved my torch in the air before snapping it in half.
Unbelievable.
This thing could tear me apart in seconds.
I checked the backseat for weapons. Nothing. The jeep had been stripped clean.
My heart caught in my throat as the scorpion reached for me, one claw clattering against the dashboard as the other slammed against the front window. The jeep heaved with the impact.
I couldn't outrun it.
But I couldn't stay.
I was going to die in here. If I didn't get out, I was going to die.
Okay. Deep breaths. I twisted the driver's-side door open and nearly fell out onto the hard-packed dirt. Hulks of twisted metal appeared gray under the full moon. I started to run, until I saw an immense creature skitter out from behind the rusted-out bus next to me, its tail curled and ready to strike.
Fuck. Two? Chest heaving, I hustled back inside the jeep and slammed the door. Then I locked it. As if that would stop a giant scorpion. I was so screwed.
Chapter Seven
The second scorpion was on me in a heartbeat. I yanked my hand away from the car door as a large black eyeball pressed near the glass. Its mouthparts twitched as it stared me down.
Heaven help me. I was dinner under glass.
Skreek!
The first scorpion leapt onto the hood and smashed its tail into the front window. Glass rained down as I dove for the backseat.
The tail was thick as a battering ram, with a curved spike on the end. I gasped as it dripped its poison onto the stick shift, each drop sizzling into the plastic.
I struggled to get back as far as I could. Feet out, I was ready to kick the bastard if I had to. It was a pathetic attempt, but it was all I had. I couldn't run. These things would be faster. And there was absolutely nowhere to hide.
Galen leapt onto the hood behind it, naked except for a pair of pajama bottoms. I'd never been so glad to see anyone in my life.
"Alala!" He bellowed the Athenian war cry, and I about choked as he drove a metal spike through the fat body of the first scorpion.
It lurched forward and let out a piercing yowl, its claws exploding the remainder of the windshield as they tumbled onto the dash.
"Get back as far as you can!" he ordered.
"Right," I croaked.
I wanted to dig a hole in the ground and live there as I watched the creature's spider-like legs scrabble against the hood of the jeep.
If this thing came any closer, I was going to have to make a run for it out the back. If I could even get out that way.
I dragged my knees as close as I could to my chest while the dying predator thrashed in front of me.
Galen leapt off the hood. Holy moley, he was going after the other one. I'd have to finish this one, bash its head in. Numb, I searched for something—anything—that I could use on its head. If it even had a head. It was more like a giant mouth with tentacles coming out.
My heart sank as the blood pounded in my ears. I had nothing.
Outside, the second creature shrieked.
Galen let out a low grunt.
"Get in the front seat!" he ordered, a desperate edge to his voice.
"What?" He had to be crazy.
"Now! Now! Now!"
The air whooshed out of my lungs. I said a quick prayer and tumbled into the driver's seat.
Damn Galen of Delphi if he was wrong.
Skreek!
The seat underneath me jerked as the entire back end of the jeep caved in.
"Galen!" I shouted, on the verge of panic as I was shoved forward into the steering wheel. I pushed away from it, knees slipping into the space below the driver's seat. I dug them against the floorboard as I edged toward the center of the car. Another blow buried the steering wheel into the seat behind it, nearly crushing me.
Trapped, I braced both hands against the plastic underside of the dash, crouching close, trying to make myself small as possible as I faced the shuddering predator.
I swallowed, trying to breathe. The first scorpion's stinger was an inch from my cheek, dripping poison into the black hole where the stick shift had melted away.
"Petra." Galen's voice drew closer.
I didn't dare move.
"Petra," he repeated, the edge back in his voice.
"I'm here," I said into the plastic.
"Thank gods," he swore. "Hang on. I've got you."
Behind me, I heard the high-pitched rending of metal and steel as he yanked the door off its hinges. The seat that pinned me was wrenched back. "Are you hurt?"
"I don't know," I said, breathing freely again, afraid to turn my head, not willing to take my eyes off the stinger.
"We'll get you out of here." Galen's hand closed over my shoulder. "Follow my lead, okay?"
"Gotcha," I said, trying—and failing—to maintain a shred of calm as I inched toward him.
My back hit the steering wheel.
"Can you bend?"
I felt closed in, trapped in the tiny space. "No." My mind raced. My breath came in gasps. I started seeing tiny black dots in front of my eyes.
Holy hell. I hadn't had a panic attack since med school. I braced my hands on the dirty floor of the jeep and breathed in through the mouth, out through the nose. In through the mouth, out through the nose. I couldn't lose it. Not now or I could fall right into that stinger.
"Hold on." I heard the groan of plastic and metal as the barrier behind me lifted. One arm curled around my waist, drawing me away from the deadly poison. "You're okay. I've got you."
"I'm fine." I tried to swallow. Failed. "Just don't touch me for a minute." I had this handled. I was almost out. Galen had ripped off the steering wheel and a lot of other parts, too. Because, sure, of course—why not slay two giant scorpions and then rip the side off a jeep? I couldn't believe I was even a teeny-tiny part of this. I gave a high-pitched, strung-out laugh. "What are you, Superman?"
"Just your average demi-god."
I tried to croak out another laugh. There was nothing average about this man.
My body was stiff with fear and shock. As soon as I started moving, I came down with the shakes.
"Easy now," he said, catching me when I reached the edge of the seat, making sure I didn't fall face-first into the dirt.
"Oh yeah. Piece of cake," I said, as he pulled me from the wreck and crushed me to him.
He was breathing hard, his neck bent, his chin resting against my forehead. I wrapped my arms around his back and held on. His grip was steady. Mine was not.
The jeep was crushed—with one speared monster on the roof and another on the hood. He pulled me tighter and at the same time angled himself between me and the wreck.
His heart pounded against my cheek. My tears fell hot against his cold chest. We were both so cold.
My breath came in sharp gasps as I clung to him. He'd saved my life. God. He'd saved me.
It felt so good to be safe
.
He'd lost his new bandage somewhere along the way. Or maybe the nurses hadn't even thought he needed another one.
He'd be shipping out tomorrow for sure. And while that should have been a relief, all I could feel at that moment was a keen sense of loss.
I wondered what would have happened if I'd met him at a different time, under different circumstances—in a world that didn't involve ancient bronze daggers, the prophecy, or this bloody war.
It was ridiculous. He was an immortal warrior. I was a girl from the Eighth Ward. Yet I felt more connected right there with him than I'd felt with anyone in a long time.
I took advantage of his closeness to run my fingers along the puckered red scar where I'd sewn him together. He inhaled sharply.
"Does it hurt?" I asked, jerking back.
"No." He caught my wrist and held it.
His breath came quick. His eyes glittered like ice. We were completely alone. Hidden in the darkness.
"How did you find me?" I hurried to ask, stumbling over the words, making conversation, refusing to believe what could and would happen with this man if I only let myself have it.
My cheeks flushed. My heart beat wildly in my chest. And it had nothing to do with the two dead scorpions sizzling on the jeep.
Galen knew it. The soldier in him caught every detail, dissected every nuance.
If I didn't want this, I should back away right now.
But I couldn't. I needed it. It was real and good and gut-wrenchingly right. I knew him. I'd seen into his soul and understood without a doubt that Galen was the kind of man I wanted to be with.
He was noble, strong, and loyal. He would stand by me, fight for me.
He was a gift. One I couldn't have. I shouldn't. But one I so desperately wanted to pretend was mine, if only for a little while.
Sparks of pleasure burned through me as he ran his fingers down the side of my neck, and I nearly exploded when he followed with teeth and tongue. "You taste so good," he murmured against my skin.
My breath came in gulps. I tried to think of something, anything other the sweet heat and the throbbing ache between my legs.
Talk. Just talk. Maybe we could talk.
But my throat was hoarse and my voice pitched wildly. "I can't believe you're in one piece."
