by Parker Foye
“You want me, a blind man, to infiltrate the hospital, a military hospital, and abduct someone?”
“Yeah, and you can do it. We have very little time. The nurses know you there, and two disabled Navy buddies going outside to chat shouldn’t raise any alarms. You get him outside the hospital where I can take him without injuring any of the hospital staff. Then we go down to the water.”
“Simple as fuck.” Benjamin shook his head.
“Exactly.”
* * *
Rez drove Benjamin back to the hospital and dropped him at the door. Though Rez found a hospital cane and gave it to Benjamin to help his balance and navigation, Benjamin was supposed to allow and accept help. He’d be more natural, and less suspicious.
Rez helped him out of the passenger side of the vehicle, then, while the car idled, took Benjamin straight to a security guard.
“I left the hospital two days ago.” Benjamin spoke into the air where he hoped the guard’s face was. “It was a bad idea. I still have my stuff upstairs, and I really should have waited for the doctor’s approval. My friend brought me back.”
“No problem.” The security guard took Benjamin by the elbow and asked for the room number. Benjamin gave the number to a room next to Jacob’s.
It was a long walk, and the guard could have passed Benjamin off to a nurse, but he seemed to enjoy the trip. They chatted about the weather, and he asked some questions about Benjamin’s decision to leave, but his tone said it was small talk. He wasn’t interested.
Benjamin told him that his pain had increased and wasn’t ready to go.
Benjamin thanked the guard when they arrived at the room and listened as his footsteps receded down the hall. Now he had to figure out how to get Jacob Mabry to confess and agree to leave the hospital with him. No pressure on the blind guy.
The cane helped steady him, but he was going to have to rely on Jacob to guide them out. To walk himself out to his own death. It wasn’t unlike what Jacob had done to them out on the water, but Benjamin didn’t like himself very much for agreeing to the plan.
The television was on, but only one. He didn’t know if it was a single room or a double. “Mabry?”
The television volume was reduced. “Yeah,” he said in his Southern accent. “Hey, what’s up, Master Diver Benjamin D’Arcy? I heard you were here.”
“Another beautiful fucking day,” Benjamin said, gesturing to his useless eyes. “Can’t see your ugly mug anymore, so there’s an upside to everything.”
“Aw, D’Arcy. That ain’t nice.”
“When was I ever nice?” Benjamin asked. This back-and-forth shit-talking was a routine he knew.
“Do you want to sit down? We could catch up,” Mabry said. It sounded like he pulled a chair closer to the bed.
“What’s the extent of your injuries, Mabry?”
“Lost my left leg below the knee. Shrapnel wounds in my thigh, hip and abdomen. They’ll fit me with a prosthesis soon, and I’ll be out of here and onto medical disability. Right now, I have a temporary prosthetic.”
“Can you move? Because we have to get you out of here. You’re in danger.”
“Why would I be in danger?”
“Those guys you were involved with, before the accident—they’ve come looking for you.” Benjamin hated treading the edge of the bullshit, hoping to sound like he knew something. “I heard them in the hospital asking around. They asked me some questions about you and where you were.
“I gave them a different floor, but they’ll come back looking for you before long, and I don’t think they’re going to be happy to see you.
“What did you do to piss them off so bad?” Benjamin didn’t expect Mabry to explain, particularly since he’d gotten some good people killed, but he’d feel better if he knew what the story was.
Before Benjamin allowed him to be eaten.
Moral compass? Drowned, apparently.
To Benjamin’s utter surprise, Mabry began fidgeting with a pen or something. Clicking it over and over. Then he said, “I owe them money. A lot of money—money I could never earn back in my lifetime. I was supposed to help them get drugs and money back and forth from the States. I did it a couple of times before I came to your unit. There was a guy in the supply area, sometimes he threw in weapons as well. I didn’t know all the details, just whatever they decided to tell me. The place we were going was supposed to be the enemy’s warehouse. While you were down there blowing it up, as an extra favor and a sign of good faith, I was supposed to exchange a few packages with them. It was a clusterfuck. They want me dead for sure. Why are you going to help me?”
“Did you mean to cause the death of some of the sailors out there?”
“No, I thought it would be simple, like before.”
“We don’t have time to talk about it right now. Can you walk?”
“No, but I have a wheelchair.”
“Okay, good. Get into the chair. You need any help?” Benjamin wondered why the hell he asked. How would he transfer a man to a chair?
“I got it.”
“I’ll need you to give me directions. Guide me. The chair will stabilize me, but I need to know when to turn, where the elevators are, right? And we’re not going out the front door. We’re going out through the courtyard.”
“Got it.”
There was some grunting and a lot of rustling as Jacob transferred himself from the bed to a wheelchair. He rolled it until it bumped Benjamin, and he groped around for the handles.
Jacob had gotten them pointed to the door, but now they needed to get past security. And nurses. And the bad guys that undoubtedly really wanted him dead, but weren’t here.
Jacob was discreet, telling Benjamin when to turn and making it not too obvious, like a high-end GPS system. They got to the elevator, and Benjamin was beginning to feel like he was almost competent and could someday be independent, with some minor assistance. Damned dog allergy.
On the first floor, there was a long hallway leading to the main lobby. That was not the direction they needed to go, or they’d pass the same security guard. They turned toward a courtyard for the patients. There was a pathway that led out to a parking lot, where Rez would be waiting.
The hall was full of noise. The clicking of heels on the tile, squeaks from rubber gurney and wheelchair wheels, hushed conversation. Benjamin tilted his head down toward Jacob as he walked, hoping it looked like they were in conversation and not like the blind leading the lame or some shit like that.
Twice they were stopped, friendly inquiries but curious. Did they have the authorization to go outside? Didn’t they know patients usually used a different door to wander in a courtyard that was partially covered and wasn’t so congested? Benjamin was beginning to sweat. This thing wouldn’t have rattled him in the past.
“How’d you get into this mess, Mabry?” Always with the last name. It reminded the men of their rank, and Mabry was lower on the food chain.
“Started off as a way to make a little extra money, bringing in drugs and alcohol in dry places for the men. I got started using the product, and each time they’d make me buy in a little further, bring more drugs, more money, and sometimes even girls—but those were usually exports, not imports. They let me sample the products. They started to threaten me, and I was addicted to the product. Opiates, mostly. I needed to keep using to avoid the crash of withdrawal. By the time of the operation where we all got hurt, I had to move and hide truckloads of stuff, and we were exchanging it out for money and weapons. I knew it was going to fall apart eventually, but I couldn’t figure out what to do.”
“Christ, Mabry. If you’d told someone, we might have been able to help you get out, instead of letting that epic disaster happen.”
“I’d have been arrested, court-martialed.”
“Is being dead bet
ter?”
“No, but I couldn’t see any other option. Keep doing what I was doing, or go to jail.”
Benjamin wanted to punch him. Because Jacob was too scared to take responsibility for his actions, people had died. He had lost a leg, but he might have been able to go on with a normal life outside of the military because nobody knew the full story. Benjamin still wasn’t sure if he was talking because he was on some painkillers or if he finally needed someone to know, or if he believed that the men were wandering a military hospital looking for him. It didn’t seem that plausible, but they’d preyed on Mabry’s paranoia.
Benjamin had his answer. No doubt Mabry was guilty, and the people killed and injured in the Gulf that day weren’t the only victims of his avarice. Mabry didn’t seem remorseful—but was trying to avoid jail or further consequences for himself.
Though he would never be happy about it, Benjamin could be at peace with the decision. It would be a bit of justice for the lost, and ensured the kelpies could continue to patrol the shorelines and seas to protect humans.
Automatic doors whisked open with an efficient shushing, and Benjamin rolled Jacob down to the parking lot. “Our ride should be waiting for us.”
“There’s a taxi out here,” Jacob said. “It’s the only car. A man is waiting with the door opened.”
“Benjamin,” Kjell said. “Over here.”
Benjamin wheeled Jacob to the car and steadied the chair while Kjell helped Jacob into the back seat. Benjamin prepared to join him, but Kjell said, “Wait.”
Another car screeched into the parking lot, and Rez called out as he slammed the door.
“What the fuck,” Jacob said. “What the hell is Rez doing here? He died!”
Kjell shut the car door on Jacob. Another door opened and after a few seconds, slammed. Most likely Kjell getting back in the car. There was a sound of pounding on the glass and muffled words as the car pulled away.
Jacob’s fists on the windows. Jesus. Benjamin’s heart tripped on that arrhythmic sound. It would be burned in his memory forever.
Rez was guiding Benjamin to a car. Benjamin shuffled along and let himself be helped into the passenger seat. “Is the security guard coming? Did anyone see?”
“No, nobody noticed anything. Kjell cast a sort of misdirection spell, but it wasn’t even necessary. Security was pretty lax.”
“I did a shitty thing.” Benjamin’s stomach lurched, and the guilt of the man wasn’t quite enough to settle him. It wasn’t outright murder, but it would haunt him.
“But he did it, right? He set us up?”
“Yes, essentially. He got a bunch of people hurt and some people killed. It will have to be enough. I think,” Benjamin said.
The ride back to the condo was quiet, and Benjamin’s stomach followed every turn the vehicle made, refusing to calm. Once they arrived, Rez helped him into the living room and got him situated on the recliner.
“I need to go with Kjell, Benjamin. Please wait for me, it will probably take all night. I’ll order you food, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
The sound of the door shutting snicked through the room. It was loud and Benjamin’s spirit echoed the space—mostly empty.
Eventually pizza showed up. Benjamin downed a couple of slices without tasting anything except guilt. He washed it down with a beer and went to bed.
Later, the outside door opened, a gust of salt spray and sand, followed by the footsteps of a man, almost certainly Rez. The door clicked closed, then he passed Benjamin and went straight to the bathroom and turned on the shower. The other smells, besides the sea? Horse and blood. The scent of horse was something Benjamin was coming to enjoy. The blood, not so much. It made him feel dirty—like he’d betrayed a brother—even though it was recompense for his actions. Benjamin’s conscience didn’t deal with it well.
* * *
The clove shampoo washed away the blood. Rez knew it wasn’t body wash, but damned if it didn’t work as well as anything else and it smelled so good.
The kelpies required blood, and though natural horses were herbivores, kelpies weren’t exactly horses or humans. They were more like the fae, though that wasn’t right either.
Regardless, Benjamin wouldn’t want the details of Jacob’s end. He’d been guilty, beyond any doubt, and he hadn’t even been that upset about what was going to happen to him.
It amazed Rez how many people came out of war zones so fucked up that dying, once they were safely back home, sounded pretty good. They’d worked so hard to survive, but PTSD was a merciless enemy that followed them home.
Rez scrubbed his face, his hands, under his nails. The sea washed away a lot, but he’d been in a hurry to get to Benjamin. He’d stopped only briefly at Kjell’s. Then he’d rushed back with a small offering to Benjamin as his pledge of commitment and love, though it might be early to speak of love.
Rez didn’t want to scare him off, but they were married in the eyes of the kelpie community and Benjamin would have to meet the band soon. But not right after the sacrifice.
Benjamin was crashed out on the recliner in front of a television showing predawn infomercials. Rez found the remote control under a half-empty pizza box.
Ah, pepperoni. Rez grabbed a slice and bit into it. He turned off the television.
“Wake up, Benjamin,” Rez said around a mouthful of cheese and crust. The pizza tasted so damn good, even at room temperature.
Benjamin grumbled something, and opened his eyes. “What time is it?”
“Oh-five hundred.”
“Go away, then, and come back later.”
“Nope, it doesn’t work that way. You were in the Navy. Getcha ass up.”
Rez finished the last bite of pizza and rubbed his hands on the bath towel around his waist.
Huh, no point in the towel. He dropped it to the floor. Rez was dry, and Benjamin couldn’t see him. Plus...well, Benjamin might not be ready for an encore performance, but Rez sure was.
“There’s a lot of shit that I’m trying to figure out if I can deal with, Rez. My head is all fucked up. Now my emotions are mixed in, and I don’t have any outlet for all this confusion.”
Benjamin looked so lost, so beautiful. His athletic body demanded a way to burn off anger and energy.
Once Benjamin was fully awake, Rez saw the fight burning in him. And he welcomed it.
“Let’s figure it out together,” Rez said, taking Benjamin’s hand and pulling him to his feet. As he collided with Rez’s body, Rez was fully erect and ready to spar.
Benjamin recoiled. “I’m not interested in sex, Rez. I’m angry, not horny.”
Rez looked at his sweats and the tented fabric. “Liar.”
Benjamin blushed. “Even if I were horny, I still...hurt. And I’m pissed. You put me in an untenable position—making me capture your prey so you could go off and kill him? Eat him? Do I even want to know?”
They were pressed together, and whether they’d shout at each other or kiss each other was impossible to tell. Rez needed to keep Benjamin from building a wall between them, but how?
“It’s an eternal question. What is one man’s life worth? Mabry proved he’d kill, or allow others to be killed, for his purposes. Kelpies provide a service to humankind and can continue doing so now. Because of him. He will not wreck any more innocents.”
“But we don’t get to make those judgments.” Benjamin pressed his hands to Rez’s bare chest and shoved.
“Yeah, we do,” Rez said. “We have to.” He stepped back into Benjamin’s space, their breath hot between them, the heat of temper and lust crackling.
And just like that the fight was on, and Rez welcomed it. Any emotion other than despair was something he could handle.
Benjamin threw a wild punch in Rez’s direction, and Rez let himself be hit. It was a solid bl
ow and caught him on the ear.
“Fuck, Benjamin.” He used Benjamin’s momentum to spin him around and propel him toward the couch.
Benjamin bounced, and Rez threw himself at the man who, though unable to see, was six-six and two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle and fury.
They grappled, and Benjamin punched him again. In the gut. This time, Benjamin fought in earnest. Pure emotion drove this.
When he flipped Rez, they both fell off the couch onto an itchy rug.
Benjamin’s weight on Rez’s back was unwelcome. A challenge that couldn’t be ignored. He bucked his body and began to change into his powerful kelpie form. He threw Benjamin off, and the man—his mate—hit the wall. Then he rushed over to Benjamin to attack, or to reassure, or to... None of it added up. Anger. Heat. Fight.
“Wait,” Benjamin said, rubbing his head, which would have a bruise if not a bump. “What are you doing? You went hairy on me.” He smoothed his hands along Rez’s glossy coat, down his flank. “Turn back. I can’t do this with a horse.”
Surprise jolted Rez back to a form that would allow speech. “Regardless of which body I inhabit, I am a horse, Benjamin. But you just hit the wrong button. When you were on my back, and we were arguing, it was a stallion’s challenge. We might’ve fought to the death if you weren’t my mate.”
“So you’re saying that you don’t bottom?”
“I never have.” Rez looked at his mate, whose nostrils were flared, his cock at attention. Oh, he might be perfect after all. He’d been damn close before, but if he’d spar? Fuck.
“I think if you want this partnership to be equal, which it has to be, or I can’t deal...then you’re going to have to allow this, at least once. I’m not your bitch. Can you take it as well as you dish it out?”
Rez’s skin shivered like it did when he was in horse form. “I can try—if you can make me.”
And what did you know? Game on.
* * *
The rug underneath was coarse and the floor beyond, cold. Those textures warred with the heat and smoothness of Rez’s flesh as they grappled. The emotion swirling, the adrenaline rushing, it was the thrill he’d missed since he lost his sight.
