by KH LeMoyne
That hadn’t been in her picture. Yet somehow, it was perfect. She pressed her lips tightly together and curled her fingers around the ring in her palm. Had it been real? The words she had heard, every utterance of Jason’s deep voice, each order to hang on, every plea to be strong. Even bits and pieces of conversation about the samples, the lab, and Salvatore, resonated in her memories. Along with the press of this ring on her finger.
Then again, maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, offering her what she wanted to hear. Yet, here was tangible proof. She opened her fist for another look and her chest grew so tight, she struggled to control her breath.
“I heard you call for me. It scared the shit out of me.”
Briet whipped her head around and clenched her hand shut. No illusion. Dark hair, intense blue eyes, dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans. His stance against the doorjamb as casual as if he’d spent his whole life here. “You came.”
He pushed away and strode closer, his gaze never leaving her face until he was right beside her. “Did you think I wouldn’t. Do you really believe I wouldn’t do everything in my power to help you?”
Had he gone so far as to come to this place? Sought her out here?
“I didn’t get there in time to stop the men who attacked you, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.” His frustration reflected in the tightness of his jaw and the flicker of pain in his eyes.
Disappointment sank deep with his words. He hadn’t actually come to the Sanctum to find her. Not that she faulted him. He deserved a medal for trying to help her at all. Especially since his trials and pain were her own fault. She bit back a wince. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t had to track her down at the lab.
But he was here now, even if Ansgar or Turen had brought him. She didn’t want to imagine how that meeting had gone. There was small likelihood that they would have given him a choice. Ansgar had known Jason was her mate and he would have insisted Jason come to the Sanctum.
“I appreciate all you’ve done. This,” she waved her hand to encompass the room, “probably made you think you were crazy? But I’m okay now.”
Her words fell short with her lack of enthusiasm. Not that she wanted him to leave, but she couldn’t make him stay. His life needed to be his choice. He had a career, goals, and a life established.
“What, I can just go now.” His brows shot up at her words, almost incredulous. “Or do you think I can’t interact with these people, this life you have?”
“No.” Briet blinked in shock. She reached for his arm before he could turn away, catching only a bit of shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest, a dark line drawing between his brows. Hurt twisted in his expression, not anger. She needed to fix this.
“Jason. You don’t need to measure up. You have no equal. The fact that you’re here—you’ve crossed the line between what you believed and this life I’ve forced on you. Certainly you handle things thrown at you with more courage and more patience than I would have in your situation.”
“Forced.” His brows drew tighter as his jaw tightened. He pulled from her grasp, turning to the door with renewed energy.
She closed her eyes, not able to watch him leave her. At the sound of the door latching, she held her breath to keep in the sob. It had been too much to hope. She wanted those words, wanted that promise she’d imagined in her dreams to be true. Even now, it felt so real.
His hand cupped her chin and she jumped. His stare held intensity and concern, but as much as she searched, she could detect no censure there, only worry.
He gave a quick shake of his head but didn’t release her. “So I wear this mark, so my optical nervous system can see to the molecular level, so I can—” he glanced away and back at her. “I can move through cracks in space to be here with you.”
Oh my. He had come on his own. They hadn’t brought him. She grabbed him with her free hand, curling her fingers around his forearm to convince herself that he was real, to hold him from ever leaving her again.
He sank to sit by her hip, his face close enough she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek.
“I chose to make my way to you. To hold onto your body until that—” he flicked his hand toward the floor. “Toxic crud let go or took us both. I choose to stay here by your side.”
She blinked tears away at the harsh rasp of pain in his voice. Even as he spit the words out, the severe lines on his face softened. He shook his head again, as if suddenly gaining clarity and brushed a tear on her cheek with his thumb. “After everything, you can’t possibly believe I would want to leave you? Baby, I’m not that strong.” He eyes searched her face. “Briet, I love you. It’s not a sweet, gentle thing. This is desperate and fierce and fucking tears me up inside, but I need it. I need you.”
She swallowed, waiting, afraid to make herself let go of her death grip on his arm.
He palmed her cheek. “If I lose you, I won’t ever be right again. If you trust nothing else, trust me in this.”
She leaned into his hand, soaking in the warmth and promise. “You’re a good, strong man, Jason.”
He rested his forehead against hers for a brief second. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
“Yes, I do.” She nodded. He’d come for her. He was solid and whole beside her and everything she wanted. “I know—absolutely know—that you’re not your father. I love the man you are.”
He brought her fisted hand up and slowly peeled back her fingers until the ring lay exposed in her palm. His gaze sought hers. She hoped he saw in her face the same determination she saw in his. He held out his palm for her other hand, the side of his mouth turning up, the beautiful dimple showing with his smile.
“The owner of store where I bought this creates specialty pieces. She personally handcrafts the jewelry herself. I had thought a necklace—then I saw these rings,” he said, turning the ring around. “The design and the grace reminded me of you and your mark. I had her add the diamonds for all the children you work so hard to save.” His thumb rubbed over the tiny sapphire, his smile dissipated a fraction. “This one is for Annie.”
He kept his gaze fixed on her face as he slid the ring back on her finger. “I want you as long as there is one last conscious thought in my feeble old mind.”
Tears threatened to flood over as his words gained purchase. She blinked rapidly for control. “There’s a second ring?”
Jason drew her close against him, tucking her beneath his chin as he reached around her to the drawer of the bedside table. She leaned close, savoring the hard, warmth of his chest, and the male musk of his scent. So precious and fragile, sensations she had thought never to know again as she lay on the cold hospital lab floor alone.
He pulled away, handed her a black velvet box, and watched her withdraw a larger, solid platinum ring. A counterpart to hers in design, if not construction, the double helix carved into the platinum instead of framed from delicate strands of metal. No open weave, no jewels, but an intricate detail of lines and patterns, the effect an illusion of depth and dimension.
With shaky fingers, she lifted his hand in hers and poised his finger. “I want you to wear this. Know that this ring is a part of me always with you. Because I love you, Jason.”
“You heard me.” He gripped her fingers in his ringed hand, brushing them across his lips.
“I remember every word you said.”
So close to him, she could now see the lines of weariness around his eyes, his mouth. Yet his smile was the brightest she’d ever witnessed.
Her lips parted eagerly for him. The slow sensual movement of his kiss chased away her doubts. The solid warmth of his body chased the weakness and fatigue she’d felt upon waking and finding him gone. Children or no, he was hers. She wasn’t giving him up before her last breath was torn from her.
***
Briet glared at Ansgar and Jason, making a mental vow for retribution on Grimm. One day, he would have a mate and paybacks were hell.
Two days. Two blasted days
to rest and recuperate and she’d already spent one with Jason, keeping more distance between than she would have liked.
“He said you weren’t allowed out of bed.” Ansgar glared right back at her, his arms crossed, his body blocking any attempt at exit.
“I’m allowed to go to the bathroom and back. I can’t sit here all blasted day. How much more taxing can it be to sit in the council room? It’s not a session with Tsu, for heaven’s sake.”
“Grimm has valid reasons for insisting you don’t jump back into your schedule yet,” said Jason.
She pounded the pillow with her fist. “He wants me bored out of my mind. I have too much to do and none of it here in bed.”
“He wants you to fully regain your strength.” Jason’s thumb stroked down her cheek and the temptation to appease him almost worked.
“I’m not hungry and I’ve been in bed for days.”
“This wasn’t a request. Grimm’s orders. You were in an induced coma, hardly restful.” He shook his head and glanced over his shoulder to share a look she couldn’t catch with Ansgar.
“So you’re just going to leave me here while you both go to the meeting.” She knew she was acting like a petulant child, but she’d struggled enough to communicate from her coma. She remembered that much and she had no desire to wait until later for details she would need to save her patients. Salvatore had stolen enough of her life already. She’d be damned if she wouldn’t erase his influence on her patients and her life as soon as possible.
Jason picked up a pair of socks and a sweatshirt and placed them in her hands. “Put these on. I’ll carry you to the meeting.”
Ansgar shook his head, “Grimm’s not going to like that.”
“He can take it up with me later.” Jason’s voice didn’t brook a response and Ansgar didn’t argue.
Briet frowned. The interaction between Jason and Ansgar had become so casual, she had a tendency to forget they barely knew each other, not to mention her brother’s previous antagonism toward Jason—until now. She would love to know how that had come about. “I can walk, Jason.”
He turned back around and leaned in, his fists on the bed. “Two days. This isn’t a test. It’s about letting your body recover and not taking on too much stress so you can heal. No one wants to keep information from you. Least of all me. Compromise, Briet. Put these on and let me carry you. Unless you’d rather have Ansgar do it?”
She caught Ansgar’s frown, who was obviously not thrilled posed in the role of villain. Catching Briet’s gaze, he turned away. No help for her there. Her own brother was acceding to Jason.
He captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Stop trying to manipulate us and put on the clothes.” His lips and kiss tempered the command.
If he’d offered more of the temptation, she would have had no argument with staying in bed. But Jason had been hands off. Close enough to her so she felt no loss, not close enough to recapture what they’d missed.
She gave a quick snort. He was right. It was ridiculous to argue with getting what she wanted. Bending her head, she worked the socks on her feet, feeling more like a child getting to stay up late than a grown adult. One glance at Jason and the heat of his stare confirmed that he considered her anything but a child.
With a smile, he covered her with another blanket, picked her up in his arms, and motioned with his head to Ansgar. “Would you bring some more blankets and her bottle of fluids?”
“I’ll meet you there.”
***
The high stone walls of the council room and tiered seating looked to Jason every bit the replica of a Greek amphitheater. Accommodations well suited to a race of semi-immortals born in the belly of Eden. Stone and wood combined in a soothing, natural atmosphere except for a strange spot on the far wall. The black smudge radiated from a central point, streaks reaching four feet in diameter. The coloring and texture resembled char. Odd for stone. The edges fell short of the long plasma panel near the double door entrance.
“We leave the mark to remind us,” said Turen.
Jason glanced back at Turen’s remark. “Of what?”
“The potential in each of us to fall from grace.”
Ah, yes. A sign of Salvatore’s actions. Jason’s hands tighten around Briet’s body as the images she’d shared of the Guardians’ last confrontation with Salvatore rippled through his thoughts. The eerie déjà vu from the images in his dream gave him an uneasy moment’s pause before he lowered her into a wooden armchair beside Mia.
Ansgar folded into view at the far end of the room, blankets in one hand, Annie’s pictures in his other and yet another stranger at his side. They joined Jason by the table.
Briet had mentioned there were approximately fifty or more Guardian children who had survived at the Sanctum. Most had left to seek signs of their lost families and their mates. Yet their world felt pretty small every time Jason met a new member of their tribe.
“Kaax, this is Briet’s mate, Jason.” Ansgar stepped aside to place Annie’s pictures on the thick wooden conference table in the center of the room.
Kaax lowered his head in greeting though his eyes never left Jason’s face.
Jason sized up the man. Not as tall as the rest of the Guardians, Kaax stood about six feet, and weighed maybe two hundred pounds. Like Grimm, Kaax held that subtle, lean quality. A sign that targeted him as fast, yet quiet, on his feet, given the fluid manner to his stride. His facial features were distinctive, with broad cheekbones and forehead, a wide, long flat nose, bronze skin and jet black hair and brows. Commanding features, no doubt, signifying an underlying strength and intelligence.
Jason offered a hand. The responding grip was firm, though not challenging as Ansgar’s had been several weeks before. At least he didn’t have to do battle with this man.
“Kaax can help with the pictures,” said Ansgar.
Jason must have looked confused because Kaax gave a slow smile. The effect could be construed as friendly or chilling, depending on how one took the gleam of his white teeth. He decided to accept the former.
Ansgar put the drawings on the conference table in the space available between the ever-growing piles of documents detailing the ongoing findings of Frank’s company.
Sensing Briet’s curiosity and restlessness, he shifted to move her seat for better visibility. Grimm stood on the other side of her chair. He mentioned nothing about Jason’s compliance with the letter of his law and helped lift her chair closer to the table. Then he left for the risers.
Jason settled on the arm of Briet’s chair, a hand over her shoulder, and looked around. The room wasn’t crowded, maybe a dozen people. He knew only about half of them, though everyone he’d met so far was there. Some people lingered around the table, others in the lower rises of the tiered seats. From a woman across the room beside Grimm, he felt an odd sense of déjà vu. Her long, wavy brown hair and high cheekbones marked her as attractive, but it was the golden, amber colored eyes that struck him with recognition—Briet’s playmate from her dream. The other target of Xavier’s roundup.
“You might as well go first,” said Turen to Kaax.
Jason’s gaze swept across the eight to ten pictures Ansgar had brought, and his hopes sank. Most were riddled with strong black marker, undecipherable and far less help than he’d hoped. Uncertain what ability Kaax brought to the table, Jason had difficulty seeing any way to get the information he needed on Annie’s situation.
Kaax sorted through the pictures, arranging them in sequence. The blackest of the pictures started the chain of drawings. The more colorful, normal depictions remained closest to where Jason sat beside Briet in a timeline of Annie’s nightmares or Briet’s help. Turen, Mia, Grimm, and the others moved into a tighter circle around the table and waited.
Kaax picked up the oldest drawing in one hand and with the fingers of his other, wove a pattern in the air over the drawing. As his fingers moved away, a two dimensional layer of black followed. His hand swung to his far right, his finger
s flexed out and swept back to the picture, the black segment remained suspended in the air.
Jason watched, amazed, as Kaax proceeded to dissect the picture, layers floating in air until only the white of the fibers of the page remained, unheeded on the table.
With both hands, Kaax’s fingers framed the last image extracted. Presumably, Annie’s original drawing after her first nightmare. His hands turned, rotating the image with him, expanding the artwork like elastic clay, pulling, and shaping it. Finally, cupped in his palms, the picture started to move. Vibrating, taking life, it reflected a movie clip, not a child’s rendering. A tall, dark monster revealed in the room against a single window.
The detail deepened, shadows fell away as Annie’s monster absorbed form and depth. The fangs receded in the mouth of the monster. The horns diminished, melding into dark shadows along the wall in the picture. A clear delineation between the head and the shadows evolved. The outline of the body became more distinct—a man with a hooded sweatshirt, indistinguishable from any teenager, black and gray as the rest of the man’s outfit. Hands resembling claws reformed and shaped into long, white human hands.
Puzzlement reflected in the faces of the rest of the group. The face of the assailant still wasn’t visible and the stature had no frame of reference for size or girth in the picture. But Kaax’s anger and disgust was evident as he’d connected the same dots as Jason.
“Can you extract more?” Jason asked.
