by Tanya Holmes
To say he’d just floored me wouldn’t be an exaggeration. But it made sense. This was why Kind Eyes lost her men. They loved her, but their self-hatred killed any chance for happiness.
“Times up,” a woman whispered. “Doc’s coming back.”
“Wait!” I said in desperation. “Remember your promise, Braeden! You said you’d give me a sign so I’ll know it’s really y—”
The line went dead.
* * *
MORTAL VIEWING ROOM
TORRANCE HOSPITAL
ASPEN, COLORADO
Denieve
____________________________
I cried for twenty solid minutes until my eyes burned, cried until my chest ached. I didn’t know how much more I could take, but I had to find the strength somewhere deep within. I had to be strong for both of them, so I went to the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, and pulled myself together.
Braeden’s last words stayed with me as I entered the “mortal” viewing room, a dark, dismal space dotted with mismatched cushioned chairs and scant else. Yes, they actually had separate rooms labeled “M” and “Y.” Mortals and Yoreck. I must’ve stood there staring at the sign for a good minute. It was any wonder they didn’t have separate water fountains.
Unbelievable.
A tan Berber carpet covered the floor, and the stench of stale nothingness hung in the air. Sterility. No emotional trace of those who’d come before me remained, almost as if the Yoreck had purged it clean of any lingering human emotions.
What was with these people? They were descended from an angel. Well, angels had feelings, at least the ones in my bible had. Then again, how could they have survived thousands of years of persecution and paranoia without having it affect them? Maybe Braeden’s remoteness was the norm and Xavier, who’d once had a poet’s heart, was the exception?
A wall of glass separated the viewing room from the procedure area. Both had been specifically runed to allow Braeden’s spirit to enter, but not leave. They did this in case the host—Xavier—tried to repel his other half. Xavier said his hospital chamber, and anywhere else they’d take him, would have similar runing. Ian would be kept in isolation for at least a week to ensure their Join was successful.
The hour or so Braeden had spent inside Xavier the other day was different. They’d purposely remained separate even though they’d shared the same body. But today they would merge into one person or attempt to.
And that was what made it so dangerous.
The door slammed open as they wheeled Xavier in on a T-shaped gurney. He was already prepped and strapped down wearing a white crewneck and matching loose trousers. An attendant motioned me toward a row of cushioned chairs in the front. I took a middle seat and gripped the end of the armrests, my nails digging into the soft leather.
Xavier’s head jerked to the left to get the attention of one of the three doctors or nurses or whatever they were in there. An older woman with a hunched back and gray hair waddled over.
I noticed the intercom box near the windows. It wasn’t on. Their movements and voices were pantomime. I had to read his lips. It looked like he asked her to elevate him.
I was right. The old woman poked a nearby button. With the base flat on the floor, his body rose at an acute angle, far enough that we could see each other. Our eyes latched and although he winked at me, I caught a glimpse of what he’d been hiding. Fear wrapped in a goodbye he hadn’t been able to voice. He’d masked it all this time, but now I’d gotten good at reading his expressions and body language.
He was about to face the unknown and he was terrified.
Fear rushed my heart. Burned me on the inside. I could barely breathe. If Xavier had lowered his guard like this before, I wouldn’t have been able to let him go.
He’d known this.
So had Braeden.
A man signaled to a woman who then stuck a needle in the syringe attached to him, the first of a series of drugs. Before I came in here, an attendant had deemed it necessary to give me a rundown on the procedure. It was amazing that I even remembered what he’d said, given how distracted I was. But I’d retained what I needed to know. No gunshot this time. No dramatic departure. He was going out pain free.
The first drug would relax him. The second would put him into a deep sleep. But the third….
The third would stop his heart.
It was like a prison-house execution, without a murder charge.
How things had changed in so many hours. I’d put a bullet in his head the day before yesterday, and now I sat here cringing and lamenting over a drug that would do with mercy what I’d done with violence. It was absurd, but it was the truth. Xavier was about to die, dragging Braeden with him, and I didn’t know if they would be back. The thought of them not existing in this world scared me to death.
A strange surge of anger boiled within me. But it was directed at a surprising source. Who was this Ian person? Some part of me resented him, didn’t want to know him. Didn’t want him to exist. I wanted my men. I missed them! Oh, no, no, no. Tears again? I hated this. All because Caryn had manipulated me into that damn house. All because I’d met and fallen hopelessly in love with Braeden and Xavier Frost.
My attention zipped to the window once more. Xavier winked at me again, but it was lazy—this thanks to the first drug. So was his smile and the way it slowly faded as the second drug hit his veins. This slow death was far more painful for me than that bullet I’d pumped into his skull.
I tore out of my chair and rushed the window so he could see me, my hands smacking the glass. Our eyes met and held as his smile stretched wider, but weakened moments later.
As if he realized mere seconds stood between this moment of ours and him going unconscious, he struggled weakly against his constraints. Seeing the futility, he sighed and focused on me, then mouthed a slow, faint, but heartfelt, “Love you.”
A sob broke from my chest, like a piece of my heart had been ripped out. I stood there crying and bleeding inwardly. The pain was immense.
When the last drug was administered his eyes stayed open. I watched in horror as the light of life faded in them. And then he just stared blankly up at the great beyond. I screamed. It was an ear-piercing sound. Wrenched from my soul. They didn’t even have the decency to close his lids. That’s what I had to look at.
Kind Eyes entered the room and tried to comfort me, but I was inconsolable. I didn’t want to be comforted. I wanted to mourn, to wail, to purge the unrelenting pain squeezing my insides. For the second time in seventy-two hours, I’d watched Xavier Frost die, but this time, he might not be coming back. Braeden might not be coming back either.
This was my torment.
An hour passed. Thirty minutes came and went as well, until….
Something warm and comforting squeezed my belly. What had been a generalized tugging was now concentrated, pinpointed, inside my womb. And it was strong.
Suddenly a gray cloud descended from the ceiling and sank into Xavier’s chest. My breath fogged the window, and I scrubbed against the blur. Ten minutes passed. Twenty. Forty. An hour. Finally, Xavier’s chest heaved, and those flat gray eyes sparkled with inner light. The color shifted to sapphire and finally to steel blue. They had no focus, but they had life, and the body, regardless of who owned it now, was breathing. My men were together, hopefully alive, aware, and awake for good.
I sobbed and wailed with joy, but doubt sprang up to taunt me. Sure, they’re together, but conscious? Viable? They could be vegetables!
Gone, forever.
“Stop it,” I whimpered.
The attendants at my back whispered one word that breached the white void in my mind. “Typical.”
I rounded on them. “Typical? Of what? People with actual emotions? Women? Mortals? Be specific, you fucking monsters!”
They gaped at me in shock as Kind Eyes rubbed my shoulder. “Come, Miss Knight. Get some rest. We have a room prepared for you.”
I looked toward the glass at Braeden
-Xavier. Damn it, the eyes still stared off into space.
No, that wasn’t right…
Their name was Ian now.
“Please.” I turned to the woman. “Let me stay. I don’t want to leave them.”
“I’m sorry but he’s about to be moved. He’ll be there for the next few days.”
He. Not they. She was trying to tell me my men were gone and this…Ian person had taken their place!
In tears, I shot the whisperers a blistering glance and slammed out of the room, not looking back.
CHAPTER 27
BRAEDEN-XAVIER
____________________________
Xavier strolled along the beach, open-shirted and shoeless with his pants legs rolled to his calves. Pure white sand glistened beneath his feet. He approached Braeden who stood near the shoreline, similarly attired.
‘Fancy meeting you here,’ Xavier said, stooping to snag a seashell.
‘Indeed.’ Hands clasped at his back, Braeden eyed the calm scenery. The sun rested high above, painting everything with dapples of gold as foamy blue waves rushed to kiss the shore. He gestured. ‘Is this your doing?’
‘Nope.’ Xavier tossed the seashell. ‘I found it this way.’
Braeden nodded. ‘Ian’s handiwork, no doubt.’
‘Well, there goes the neighborhood,’ Xavier said with a wink. Then he drew a deep breath, and sighed. ‘So. You ready to take the plunge?’
‘Not yet. I have something that belongs to you.’ Braeden stood before Xavier, grasped his right hand and lifted it to rest against his own chest as a gentle breeze whispered past them. ‘I’m returning this, but I’ll sincerely miss it.’
Xavier searched his face. ‘Wow,’ he said, amazed. ‘You actually mean that.’
‘I do, brother.’
The transfer of power began while Braeden was still speaking. Xavier gasped as love and light surged from Braeden into him like a bolt of lightning, striking him square in the chest.
His heart. It was his heart. His humanity.
It was back, and it fit perfectly.
Xavier shuddered and braced his knees while his spirit adjusted to the added weight. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so alive and joyful. It was euphoria tenfold.
‘Now I’m ready.’ Braeden smiled warmly. ‘How about you?’
Xavier caught his breath and grinned. ‘Yeah, asshole. Let’s do this.’
The men turned to the sea, walking hand in hand. They spoke in unison as their twin souls slowly converged, until they were one voice, one mind, one body…until “they” were One soul:
‘We the equal Halves of Ian Callum McBride come together willingly, for his common good, and not our own. We come in good faith, leaving all self-seeking behind. We pledge to think and feel as a true One, forever and ever.’
CHAPTER 28
PROCEDURE ROOM
TORRANCE HOSPITAL
ASPEN, COLORADO
(BRAEDEN-XAVIER)
IAN
____________________________
I couldn’t see a damn thing. The room was a crazy swirl of black and gray, but I knew where to focus. Right there, dead center, the last place I saw Denieve—pressed up against the glass, crying and screaming for me.
My love, my heart, my woman.
The fear blazing in her eyes was gut-wrenching. I had to get to her. To comfort her. To tell her I was still here, thank God! That nothing had changed. I was the same man she just spoke with on the phone; the same one who’d made love to her half a dozen times the night before.
Desperation set in as I tried to free myself, but they had me strapped to a table. Bound by restraints I could’ve easily broken hours ago, I was paralyzed. They’d shot me so full of drugs my brain wasn’t working. Hell, nothing was. What else could I do but just lie here and wait for the darkness to lift.
The second it did, I scoured the room, the seating area, left, right, and center, but all the chairs were empty. My lady was gone—
A sharp pain ripped through me as blood boiled below my waist, building and building, filling me up, until I was rock hard and horny as hell. My skin was on fire. Sweat pooled over my body. My pulse raced. A knot twisted my stomach and my lungs ached. I couldn’t get enough air.
I needed…I needed….
“D!” I roared.
My voice thundered across the room as I yanked at the straps, but the more I struggled, the tighter they became. Fear and outrage burned into me when a woman wearing what looked like a gas mask jammed a fat syringe into my IV. I was a goner after that. Within seconds, my body went limp, and I fell into a dreamless sleep.
Two days later, I awakened.
CHAPTER 29
MY ROOM
TORRANCE HOSPITAL
ASPEN, COLORADO
Denieve
____________________________
Two days.
That’s how long I spent pacing my room, picking at my food, staring at the ceiling at night, and buzzing Medical every hour on the hour for updates, but they kept spewing the same tired mantra: “The procedure was uneventful.”
They said it would be at least another day or so before a preliminary “assessment” could be made. That Xavier hadn’t rejected Braeden’s “permanence” was a good sign. I was happy to hear that, but my biggest questions were too painful to voice. They floated around my head torturing and taunting me every other minute.
Were they:
Awake?
Self-aware?
STILL HERE, IN THE LAND OF THE LIVING?
I begged to see them—I mean to see him—but I may as well have been talking to myself. Nobody was listening. So I lurked in the hallways for hours on end. I even tried getting lost in a romantic suspense novel, but gave up after the third chapter. I couldn’t say who the characters were, much less why the hero and heroine were shooting at each other.
By the time Angela arrived on day three, I’d chewed my nails to nubs, but after she told me she was with Braeden when he “died,” I was comforted. At least he hadn’t been alone. And now that she was here, I had someone familiar to talk to, someone who cared about my men just as much as I did.
The Yoreck gave her a room in the fake hotel downstairs—a room right across from mine—and for the next two days, she stayed with me from sunup to sundown, reminiscing about Braeden and Xavier, but she mostly talked about Ian.
The moment of truth finally came on day six when an attendant collected Angela for a “Familial Review.” It was part of the evaluation process. Ian’s doctors needed her input to help them determine how successful the Join was. I knew Braeden and Xavier, but Angela knew Ian (her son) better than anyone.
The sixty minutes she was gone were excruciating, but I’ll never forget the happy tears streaming down her face when she returned, and the fragrant bouquet of joy wafting around her. For me, joy smelled like my childhood Christmases, days filled with the scent of pine trees, Scotch tape, and cinnamon apple cookies.
Angela raced over and hugged me hard. “He’s back,” she sobbed. “My boy is finally back!”
I was in the middle of trying to decide what that meant when Kind Eyes peeked through a crack in my open door.
“Miss Knight?” She tapped against the jamb. “Mr. McBride can see you now. But you’ll only have about a half an hour. The docs don’t want to tire him out.”
“May I have a few minutes with her first?” Angela asked Kind Eyes.
“Sure, hon,” the woman said. “Take all the time you need.”
Angela gave me a quick once-over—fussing with my hair and pinching color into my cheeks. “Are you ready for this?”
“No,” I admitted. “I’m terrified.”
Happiness shimmered in her eyes. “Why? You’re about to see the man you love.”
That or a stranger with a familiar face. All my frustrations and fears finally spilled out. “I’m really trying to deal with all this, but it’s hard. I couldn’t be with Braeden in the end. But then I had to watch Xavier die—
Twice. The second time through lethal injection. I saw that. And now he’s…I mean, somebody is sitting upstairs, living and breathing, probably ready to pick up where we left off, as if…as if none of the other craziness matters, as if it never happened. I get the feeling that everybody’s expecting me to just fall in line—to accept this insane situation without question.” I gestured around the room. “Like this is normal. But it’s not. None of this is. It’s…it’s downright unnatural.” My hand shook as I raked my hair back. “Oh, God. That didn’t come out right.”
Concern pooled in Angela’s eyes. “Come sit with me a moment, dear.” She led me to the sofa. Once we settled in, she said, “During the fracture, I watched my baby boy slowly unravel. The light of my life, the child I carried in my body all those months was hurting, and I couldn’t help him. It got so bad that when they separated I was relieved. I thought Ian would finally have peace, but in reality, I’d only traded one heartache for another. The split left me with two emotionally stunted children. So I spent the next seven decades praying they’d eventually find their way back to each other.”
I marveled at her. “I can’t imagine how you suffered.”
“We all did, but then you walked into our lives and everything changed.” She smiled and patted my hand. “Do you remember your first day at Braeden’s?”
How could I forget? “You mean the day I said goodbye to my sanity?”
“Exactly,” she said with a laugh. “Now think back to our chat in the gazebo. Specifically what I said about how Braeden used to be.”
