Immortal Protector

by Ursula Bauer

  ———

  She slept. She couldn’t believe she managed it, but fatigue jumped her like a thief in the night and took her down. Gideon woke her at dawn and they had a hasty breakfast at a local diner, then they were on the road again.

  She’d prodded him all morning for more answers, peppering him with questions, but his responses were measured, calculated and cautious. He was holding out on her. He told her nothing more than she’d heard last night except that she probably didn’t know the person responsible for the attack. She found that hard to believe. Something so violent couldn’t be random. Then again, what she thought she knew about everything was suspect. Last night’s events had opened her eyes to another world, one that ran by different rules, one that cast a long dark shadow over her own. It would take time to know it all and to come to terms with it. It was easier to focus on the details and things close at hand than think too hard on the long term implications of dual realities and threats to timelines.

  As she turned things over again and again in her mind, Meg stole glances at the lethal soldier seated beside her in the SUV. His stony face showed no hint of emotion nor any signs of fatigue from last night. She, on the other hand, looked like death warmed over. There were dark circles carved deep into her skin beneath her eyes and the rest of her face appeared completely devoid of color. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her hair a hornet’s nest. She did her best to hold the curls back in a clip, but the humidity and the fitful sleep had turned it wild and nothing would keep it tame.

  Gideon’s black buzz cut looked perfect, every hair standing at attention, in neat, precise order. Sunglasses hid his dark eyes from her, but she imagined they held the same unblinking, intense stare behind the shades as they did with them off. That stare could burn a whole through ten tons of concrete. She’d seen it soften a few times, fleeting moments at best, and when it did, it made her melt.

  He was a disconcerting package, her kidnapper turned hero. His body was built for war, and, she suspected for love. She vividly recalled how he looked without his shirt, all that golden skin covering taut, rippling muscle, begging to be touched. She wanted to run her hands over every inch of him, to linger over the sexy forearms, to trace the lines of each defined abdominal, to follow the line of crisp, dark curls that descended to a wondrous, mysterious place beneath his belt.

  He wasn’t immune to her either. She’d caught a glimpse of his growing interest as it tightened and pushed against the leather of his pants. At the time she’d dismissed it, giving her attention to more pressing matters like getting free or figuring out what the hell was going on. But he’d distracted her with his touch easily enough. His palms were wide, his fingers long, and the few times those hands had grazed her skin or held her body she felt power and restraint, and she felt a kindle of desire.

  Conjuring up the delicious memories distracted her and gave her a strange sense of longing she couldn’t quite define. She supposed thinking about Gideon in a simple, sexual way kept her mind off the other more disturbing events and facts of the night. She didn’t want to believe in immortal soldiers and yellow-skinned boogey men, but it seemed she didn’t have much of a choice. She didn’t want to believe she had the hots for this enigmatic, deadly soldier. But she couldn’t deny the attraction, nor could she rationalize it away. The feeling was too raw, too primal.

  All night long she’d bordered on the verge of nightmares and each time it seemed the worst would happen, there he was, standing tall, sword out. Come with me if you want to live. She’d heard him say it a hundred times if she’d heard him say it once. His presence brought her peace, made her feel safe, and, at the same time, stoked the flames of her darkest desires. She knew on an instinctive level he would be a demanding lover, one who would take her to the edge and then push her beyond. In her dreams he’d touched her in ways that had her body writhing in ecstasy. When she thought she’d find release the darkness would come once more, and the nightmares begin. It was a terrifying cycle of death and sex, where every moment counted, where she never felt more alive, never felt more desired. When she finally woke, it was as if she’d had no sleep at all. And, no satisfaction.

  She hungered for his touch and ached for release. The tension tightened into an unbearable knot of fire deep inside her core. She knew Gideon caused this, and she knew only he could cure her. Just as she knew she’d never have him, never find that satisfaction. She couldn’t have found a more unattainable man in the world if she’d tried. He was a soldier on a mission. He may be attracted on a physical level but she could tell he was far too disciplined to let that get in the way. Mixing it up with her sexually would compromise his objective and Gideon Sinclair was not a man who compromised. He’d get his jar and then he’d dump her up at some farm and get on with saving the universe. She’d never see him again.

  That thought cooled her desire and kicked her brain into gear. Maybe that explained this irrational desire. Maybe that explained why it came so fast, so devastatingly fast. Wanting the thing you know you can’t have, only because you can’t have it, was that the attraction? No. There was something more than the lure of the forbidden in Gideon. She gave it more consideration and by the time they pulled into Troy, Meg had what she believed to be a viable answer.

  Scent. It had to be his scent. Not that the rest of his package wasn’t worth a second or third look, or touch. Meg figured even the potent visuals weren’t enough to trigger such a strong reaction in so short a time. As a doctor she knew human biology, knew the hardwiring. Gideon’s pheromones spoke to hers and they said very wicked things. Her suffering was nothing but a case of nature asserting itself. Normal. Comforting in a way, since nothing else about him or their meeting was in any way, shape or form, normal. Unfortunately, not thinking about Gideon meant thinking about the other things she’d met yesterday.

  He pulled the big SUV into the front lot of the clinic and she flinched as the memory of last night’s attack replayed through her mind. “Are you sure about this, Gideon?”

  “I need the artifact. Liebers has it. We can get it back, and you can tell Russell about the leave of absence.” He turned off the motor. “You good with the cover?”

  She nodded as butterflies took flight in her stomach. She hadn’t been this nervous since her first surgical rotation as an intern. “You’re the son of my mother’s dearest friend Rita. Rita only has days to live and has elected to die at home with family and friends. I’m going to stay with her until she passes.”

  “Try not to be so robotic. You need to make it sound real.”

  “I thought it sounded fine.”

  “Just a suggestion. Where does Rita live?”

  “Forestville, Pennsylvania. Her house is halfway down the mountain from the old coal mine where her father worked.”

  “Better.” He flashed a quick grin. “What do I do for a living?”

  “You’re military. On leave from your unit.” Very believable given his look. “What if we can’t get the artifact back?”

  “You said Liebers needs money all the time.”

  “He has a gambling addiction. He’s in therapy for it, but he’s always asking Bill for salary advances to pay off one shady loan or another.”

  “Liebers needs money. I need that jar. We’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.” He opened the car door, and stepped out. “Showtime, Doc. Remember, the sooner we get this done, the sooner you can get back to your normal routine.”

  Would anything be normal again? She climbed out of the big vehicle and looked around half expecting to see the bodies from last night, but there was no trace. Even this early, the day was unseasonably hot and humid. A thick haze hung in the air. The scent of the surrounding vegetation was almost cloying. The parking lot held a few staff cars. The patients in the study would arrive in half an hour. The place was deceptively peaceful. It was hard to fathom that last night it was a scene straight from hell.

  Meg looked around the lot a few times just to be sure. The creatures had appeared out of nowhere.
They did it before, they could do it again. She clutched at the strap to her backpack, holding the bag tighter against her body. “Who’s after me?”

  “I don’t know yet. Like I said at breakfast, it’s probably no one you know.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.” She glanced over her shoulder, seeing nothing but her shadow. “What if it’s someone I know, only I don’t realize that? You said anyone could be a mage. You said the things that attacked me worked for one.”

  “Anyone could be a mage, but you can usually tell. Mages are obsessive, power hungry loners, and tend to devote all of their time to studying and using magic. That doesn’t leave them much time for other things like day jobs.” He stopped dead still and looked down at her. “I told you I’d keep you safe. I don’t go back on my word.”

  She believed him. The way he spoke, so sure of himself, she believed he’d do what he could to keep her safe. But what if it wasn’t enough? She didn’t want to think beyond that. “Let’s use the side entrance. We can take the staff elevator.”

  Gideon followed her lead, a silent, towering sentinel behind her. They passed few people on their way to the elevator, something Meg was grateful for. She was in the same clothes from yesterday. Her skirt was torn from when she fell, she looked all the worse for the wear, and she had the lone biker of the apocalypse in tow. Not a good picture.

  She used her key to access the restricted fourth floor where all the physicians had their private offices. The elevator opened in a small dead end corridor just off the reception area. Meg peeked out and found the reception area empty. Lucy, the secretary, must have been making coffee in the small breakroom down the hall.

  “Coast is clear.” She came out from behind the elliptical reception desk, and motioned to Gideon. “Stan’s office is this way.”

  She was halfway down the hall when Lucy came out of the breakroom, coffee mug in hand. The brassy-haired former trophy wife turned secretary stretched her plump scarlet lips into an artificially bright smile.

  “Dr. Carter. Good morning.” Her eyes lit upon Gideon, and the smile turned into a seductive grin. She lowered her gold-dusted lids. “Who’s your friend? Don’t tell me he’s a doctor?”

  Meg’s butterflies turned to stomach acid. Lucy was always polite to Meg, but very solicitous to the male doctors in the practice. Meg tried to be sympathetic to her cause; it wasn’t easy to be the cast-off first wife of the hottest plastic surgeon in town. Then again, Meg was fairly certain Lucy was the current mistress of Dr. Chang, the practice’s pediatric neurologist. Chang was married. Small wonder she showed interested in Gideon as well. Fresh meat. No wedding band. “Lucy, this is my old friend, Gideon Sinclair. Gideon, our secretary, Lucy. Is Dr. Liebers in yet?”

  “He came in about half an hour ago.”

  “Great, thanks.” She swept past the woman, and Gideon followed.

  “How do you take your coffee, Mr. Sinclair?”

  “None for me, thanks.” Gideon walked a little faster.

  “I’m here if you change your mind.”

  Meg grit her teeth. To Gideon, she said low, “She’s hooked up with one of the other doctors. If you’re not careful, she’ll try for you, too.”

  “She’s not my type.”

  For some silly reason, his response pleased her. Most men found Lucy’s bottle blond bombshell looks irresistible. Then again, Gideon Sinclair wasn’t like most men. In fact, he wasn’t like any man Meg had ever encountered before in her life. For one crazy moment she felt sad that they’d soon be parting ways. She shook it off and knocked on the door.

  “Hey Stan, it’s me, Meg. Can I come in?”

  She took the muffled response to be an affirmative, and opened the door.

  Stan Liebers came out of his small bathroom, freshly shaved, and buttoning up his shirt. “Hey, Meg. Don’t you have a day off?” He caught sight of Gideon and scowled. “Who’s this?”

  Meg made introductions, spewing the long lost friend story.

  “Geeze, for a second I thought you were some loan shark.” He laughed nervously and fussed with the knot of his tie. “Guess that was in poor taste. So, what’s up?”

  “I need you to cover my patients for a week or so. There’s only one in the Med Center right now.”

  Stan sat down behind his desk and leaned back in his chair. “Sure. Anything for you, Meg. Can I ask why?”

  Meg laced her hands together to keep them steady. “I need to go to Pennsylvania. Gideon’s mother is dying. She only has a few days left.”

  There. That didn’t sound too robotic. It would help if Gideon showed some kind of emotion.

  Stan looked up at Gideon. For a moment he studied him with a critical eye. Then he flashed his patented “sympathetic doctor” frown and donned his game face. “I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Sinclair. It’s never easy, is it? No matter what the age.”

  “No,” Gideon rumbled. “It’s not.”

  Great. Talk about robotic. Meg decided to jump tracks. She hated lying, and she hated being on the receiving end of Stan’s phony caring doctor attitude. She knew he didn’t give a crap about anything other than money. To him, medicine was a cash cow, and the clinic, a low stress way to keep the milk flowing. His saving grace was his undisputed skill, and that was the only reason Meg had him covering her patients.

  “Listen, Stan, that’s not all. This is going to sound weird coming on the heels of what I just told you, but, I got to thinking about that canopic jar. I really like it, so much, I want to buy it from you. There’s time to get a replacement for Morty’s party.”

  Stan smiled easily. “That was a sweet little piece, wasn’t it? I’m more a modern art guy myself, but wow, it looked like the real deal. No wonder Bill gets all his stuff from that company. They’re fakes but you’d never know to look at them.”

  Tension dug sharp claws into her shoulder blades. A sense of foreboding stole over her. “How much should I make the check out for?”

  The mention of money set Stan’s dull gray eyes to gleaming. “You know I’d love to sell it to you but I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t.” The tension increased, and panic uncoiled like a viper inside of her.

  “Can’t, Meg. I sent it back.”

  The panic tightened her chest and made it hard to breathe. “But you were going to give it to Morty.”

  “Sure, when I thought it didn’t cost any more than the trocar. I told them I’d keep the jar, then I got their bill.” Stan glanced up at Gideon. “You wouldn’t believe how much they wanted. You’d have thought it was the friggin’ Hope diamond. I called them up, told them to send me what I ordered, and had Lucy ship it back UPS on their dime.”

  “No!” Meg leaned over the desk. “Tell me you didn’t!”

  Stan sat back, surprised at her violent reaction. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were interested.”

  She had the sudden urge to choke Stan. She felt Gideon loom up behind her and take her arm.

  “You can contact the company direct, Meg.” Gideon’s voice was warm and steadying. “Thanks for your time Dr. Liebers.”

  “Sure. Sure.” Stan stood and shook hands with Gideon. “Sorry about your mother.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Hey, Meg, I’ll need a number where I can reach you. Not your answering service, either.”

  “Right.” In a haze, Meg scribbled her private cell number on a Post-it Note, and gave it to Stan. “I updated discharge charts last night. I’ll sign the prints at the Med Center when I make rounds this morning and let my patients know you’re picking up the slack.”

  She let Gideon lead her out of the room and when he shut the door, she gave in to a moment of panic. “The artifact’s gone. That’s bad, isn’t it? I know it’s bad.”

  “It’s not good, Doc.” He smiled down at her reassuringly. “But it’s not terrible. I’ll get the tracking number from Lucy while you tell your boss you need some time off.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”
<
br />   She took a deep breath and pulled herself together. God, he must think her a total weakling. She stiffened her spine. “Don’t let Lucy take advantage of you.”

  She turned away, rounded the other corner, and found Bill just going into his office.

  “Meg, good morning. I thought you were taking the day off.”

  “I need to talk to you, Bill.”

  He gave her the once over and pushed his glasses onto his forehead. “You’re in the same clothes you wore yesterday.” His eyes fixed on the tear in her skirt. He let go of his office door, came close to her and gently held her arms. His blue eyes filled with concern. “Are you injured? Did something happen, Meg? Are you okay?”

  She nodded, feeling his warmth pour over her. Bill was like a teddy bear or a favorite blanket. You could sink into his safety net and never need to worry. So different, she realized, from Gideon. Gideon offered safety, not because he was comfortable, but because he was lethal. There was nothing warm and fuzzy about the immortal soldier. “I have an emergency, Bill. I need to take a brief leave of absence.”

  Bill’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t let her go. “When are you coming back?”

  When, not why. No questions, he just understood. She was grateful for his friendship, for the way he seemed to know the right thing to do, the right thing to say. No matter how crazy her world got, Bill was there. One day, when he healed from his daughter’s death, he’d make some lucky woman very happy. “A few days. A week maybe. A family friend’s on hospice. She’s in the last stretch. I’m going to stay with her, see her through.”

  Bill shifted, coming closer. He stepped into a shaft of golden morning light that slanted in through the office window, giving him an angelic aura. “I didn’t realize someone so close was so sick. Take all the time you need. Will you be available by phone?”

  “I’ll have my private cell. You know the number.” She felt a wave of guilt crash hard against her. She was letting Bill down, letting the kids down. Then she remembered Gideon’s warning. What came for her last night wouldn’t let things like doctors and sick kids stand in the way. She was a danger to others just by being around. “Stan’s covering my patients. I’m sorry, I know we have the big meeting with Pharmetrica coming up and if this goes quick, I’ll be there, I promise.”