by Nicole Hall
The canes drooped with ripe fruit, so Lindsey picked one and popped it in her mouth as she crouched to examine the dirt. Tart sweetness exploded across her tongue, and in front of her, smears of dark purple marked where fallen berries had been crushed. No footprints to speak of, and she’d bet animals loved to visit this area for a snack, so not exactly conclusive. But the area was well outside of Calliope’s shield.
Her eyes narrowed as she stood and approached the closest tree. Calliope had said the gods were incorporeal, but what happened when they gained more power? Would they be heavy enough to leave evidence of their passing? Lindsey reached out for the trunk and jerked her hand back when her fingers prickled. Not the same sensation as being engulfed, but definitely magic tingles.
She smiled as she gingerly touched the bark until she found the spot smudged with magic. The next tree in a line away from the blackberries also caused tingles. A honeysuckle vine stretched across her path, and when she brushed it, she nearly jumped at the strength of the magic. After some trial and error, she discovered the best markers sat at around hip level to her.
If she walked slowly and ran her hand along whatever happened to be next to her, she could follow the trail. When the tingles stopped, she backtracked and searched around until she found the right direction again.
Dax and Calliope had been right. Someone was watching them, and whoever it was had magic that worked.
Lindsey became so focused on finding the trail that she wasn’t paying much attention to where she walked. Her foot came down on a section of loose dirt that crumbled away below her. She shifted her weight back and fell on her ass, staring across what looked like a gentle slope. The overgrown brush hid a steep drop-off into a short ravine with the trickle of a creek at the bottom.
She grabbed a thick branch to stand and jerked her hand back at the strong magic under her palm. This was no trace, and it was higher than the others had been. Lindsey stepped to the edge of the ravine and looked down. If she were climbing up the wall here, she’d probably use this branch as leverage for the last pull.
In the mud at the bottom, the sun winked off a piece of metal, and Lindsey thought she could almost make out a footprint. A bare footprint. Would non-corporeal gods be hindered by all the spiky dead stuff littering the forest floor?
Who else would possibly be wandering around barefoot?
Lindsey sensed movement to her left, but when she pivoted, a sharp shove launched her forward. She released a panicked gasp before her shoes lost purchase on the loose rock and she tumbled over. In a slow-motion free fall, she instinctively reached for Dax, then darkness took over with a bone-jarring impact.
8
Dax
Even in his wildest dreams, Dax had never imagined wanting a woman the way he did Lindsey. Kora slapped his arm, and he returned his attention to the two ladies in front of him.
“You weren’t listening at all, were you?” Kora smirked at him. She knew full well that he’d been watching Lindsey; he hadn’t been trying to hide his distraction.
“Something about heavy boxes.” Dax made the assumption since Ana worked in the bookstore and had asked to meet him there. She and Dax had become friendly during his previous visits, but she’d never asked for help before.
“Ana finally decided to give up that guest room situation and come stay in the efficiency above the shop. She needs your muscles.”
The woman in question flushed a pretty pink. Everything Ana did was pretty. When active, her movements flowed like a dance, and when she became still—like now—her long lean lines arranged into an exquisitely balanced example of poise. Blonde hair, blue eyes, creamy skin, Dax considered it a miracle Kora’s shop wasn’t constantly swarmed with suitors.
And yet, her perfect features did nothing for him, even before he’d met Lindsey. Ana personified beauty and kindness, and he preferred a prickly retrieval specialist who had the ability to melt his brain with a single touch.
Ana looked at him now, making direct eye contact despite the blush. “I don’t have much, and I could handle it on my own if there weren’t so many stairs involved.”
Kora snorted. “Your knee is only barely out of that brace. The place is furnished, but I think all the furniture is shoved together in the middle of the living room. Dax can do the heavy lifting of your measly possessions and arrange whatever you need while you lounge around giving orders.”
Ana laughed. “You know I’m not great with orders.”
“Strongly worded suggestions then. I’d offer up David, but he’s working his way through the new sci-fi shipment.”
Dax crossed his arms. “Why am I being conscripted if David is allowed to stay home and read?”
Kora patted his cheek. “Because I have other plans to make him tired and sweaty.”
He didn’t have a good response to that, so he turned to Ana. “I’m happy to help. Point me toward your place, and we’ll have you moved in no time.”
Ana thanked him while Kora returned to her position behind the counter and waved them on their way.
After hours of carting boxes and shuffling couches, Dax wasn’t in the mood to socialize, but Ana insisted on providing dinner. Since all of Ana’s things were still in boxes, he suggested they order pizza at his place.
Dax hoped the pizza would be enough to lure Lindsey into joining them, but the house was empty when they arrived. He left Ana in the kitchen with the delivery number and did a quick search. Lindsey’s SUV was parked in the driveway, but her bedroom—and every other room—was empty.
Ana thanked the person on the phone and hung up as he walked into the kitchen. She flashed him a smile. “Pizza will be here in fifteen minutes. I’m surprised it’s so fast, but I guess this address is a regular customer.”
Dax nodded absently. “Yeah, it’s the only place we can get the weird vegetable pizza that Lindsey loves.”
Her smiled dimmed. “Where is the infamous Lindsey?”
“I wish I knew.” He wandered to the back window and checked the patio. No Lindsey, but a pile of wadded up white fabric caught his attention. Had the watcher returned or was Lindsey out there somewhere without some of her clothing? After their encounter that morning, he’d believe either.
“Excuse me, I have to go check something.” If Lindsey had planned a surprise that involved naked time, he wanted to give her fair warning that Ana had come home with him.
He’d taken two steps onto the patio when a falling sensation tossed his heart into his throat. The strange awareness disoriented him, but the stillness that followed was much worse. Dax couldn’t explain how, but he knew the feeling had come from Lindsey. Still came from Lindsey.
Bitter panic coated his mouth. Whatever magic switch she’d flipped had jolted him into a visceral connection with her, but after that initial vertigo, all he sensed was pain and darkness.
Lindsey needed help, and the pull in his chest told him where to go. Without thought, he took off into the woods.
“Dax, wait.”
He hadn’t heard Ana come out, but it didn’t matter. He had to get to Lindsey. The crunch of running footsteps quickly catching up behind him made it clear she didn’t actually need him to wait.
There weren’t any trails in the forest, and Dax growled in frustration as the undergrowth blocked his path. The heat pressed down on him as he tried his best to hurry. In the back of his mind, he knew he should send Ana back—running over uneven ground in the woods was a good way to reinjure her knee—but he didn’t spare the breath.
He almost missed the drop-off and had to throw out an arm to keep Ana from tumbling over. The ravine tore a swath through the forest, mostly hidden by the overabundance of plants. He could see the remains of a creek at the bottom, deeper than he’d expected, and another nearly vertical cliff face on the other side hidden by bushes and young trees.
The force inside him said Lindsey should be here somewhere. Dax edged closer and peered down. Frustration mounted as he scanned the shadows. Then he saw it. A strip
of bright blue about twenty-five feet down, tucked into the side of the cliff.
“Lindsey!” She didn’t move at his shout, and Dax pushed back his fear to summon the focus that had served him in the Army.
He started the climb down, concentrating on one handhold, then the next. When he reached the ledge, Ana was already crouched by Lindsey’s prone form. How in the hell had she beaten him down?
She moved aside for Dax, and he winced when he got his first good look at Lindsey. She lay crumpled on her side, her hair obscuring her face. Bruises and scrapes marred her torso, and for a split second, it was Beth all over again. But he could see her chest rising and falling.
Dax mercilessly shoved that memory deep down. Lindsey was not his sister.
He brushed the hair away from her face and checked her pulse just to be sure. Strong and steady. Lindsey groaned his name, and his eyes closed on a sigh of relief.
“Lindsey, can you hear me?” Dax repeated the question twice more, but all he got was a frown on the third one. Not awake, but responding. Ana shifted beside him, reminding Dax the three of them balanced on a dirt ledge that didn’t inspire a lot of faith.
“How’d you get down here?” He didn’t spare her another glance as he methodically checked Lindsey for broken bones.
“There’s a ridiculous little trail up that way.” She gestured to her right along the cliff, but Dax didn’t see anything. “It’s steep, but doable. And a heck of a lot easier than climbing down a cliff.”
As far as he could tell, Lindsey had fallen from the cliff above and landed perfectly on the ledge to avoid any serious injuries. He glanced up and noted the abundance of bushes and branches that she’d have fallen through to get to this spot. That explained the abrasions.
“Do you see any injuries on her other than the cuts and bruises?”
“No, and I left my phone back at your place. I can run back and call for help—”
“I’ve got her.” He knew from experience how slow rescue teams could be in the wilderness. Dax grunted as he lifted her, and once upright, Lindsey’s lashes fluttered as she curled her body into his.
The trail was indeed ridiculous—probably a former deer path on its way back to obscurity. By the time they reached the top, Dax’s thighs were on fire, but he’d endured worse. He found the landmarks he’d automatically memorized on the way there and started the trek back to the house.
“I’m not sure moving her after a fall is a good idea, Dax.” Ana’s tentative plea didn’t slow him down, but he did put extra care into not jostling her as they hiked back.
The internal sense that had guided him to Lindsey ebbed and flowed as she fought toward consciousness. Dax assumed she’d reached out with her magic and strengthened part of the bond Calliope was always talking about, which let him know that she wasn’t suffering from internal injuries.
As the backyard came into view, Lindsey surfaced enough to mumble into his shirt.
“Put me down.”
Dax’s arms tightened involuntarily as he headed for the cars parked in the front of the house. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“No. Take me to bed.”
With his hands splayed across her warm skin and her lips pressed against him, his body perked right up. “You fell off a cliff, Lindsey. I don’t think you’re up for a game of hide the salami.”
She snorted then groaned. “Don’t make me laugh. Hurts my head.”
“Even more reason to take you to the hospital.”
She hooked her hand loosely around the back of his neck and levered herself up an inch. “I’m serious. I’ll be fine once I get some rest. I can feel it.”
His steps slowed. He could feel it too, but that awareness had faded from the absolute knowledge it had been before to a faint impression. Was he really going to trust Lindsey’s well-being to a faint impression?
She sighed and whispered, “Trust me.”
Dax readjusted her as she drifted off again. He did trust her, but it was his job to protect her. A role that had become vividly real in the last half hour. Then again, if she woke up in the hospital, it could destroy what little faith he’d managed to cultivate.
Ana had walked silently behind them to that point, but she stepped up next to him when Lindsey quieted. “I’m going to head home unless you need me for anything else. Thanks for your help today.”
“Thank you. I’m not sure I would have found that trail without you there.” They rounded the house, and Dax noticed a pizza box sitting on the front porch. He shook his head. “At least take the pizza. We’ll have to try dinner again some other time.”
Sadness tempered her smile. “Without any medical emergencies preferably.” Her focus dropped to Lindsey for a moment. “She’s lucky to have you, Dax. I hope she recovers quickly.”
Ana limped heavily to the porch then back to her car, and Dax grimaced. He’d been right—she’d hurt herself trying to help Lindsey. He owed her a hell of a lot more than a pizza.
His arms screamed from the weight of carrying an adult woman that far, but he sighed and made his way back around the house. Lindsey wanted him to trust her, so he would. He’d take her to bed, as asked, but he’d do it his way.
She could sleep in her room, but he’d be right there with her—full observation. And if she showed any signs of getting worse, he’d break every traffic law in the state getting her to the hospital.
Dax managed to get the backdoor and her bedroom door open without dropping her, a feat considering he was losing feeling in his fingers. Lindsey didn’t stir when he laid her on the bed or took off her shoes. Her bra and shorts were streaked with dirt and sweat, but he decided against removing any more clothes.
In their bathroom, he grabbed two washcloths and wet one with warm water. A quick wipe down of the areas he could reach would have to do until she could stand on her own and shower. Dax used the same technique on himself, but he had the benefit of sneaking into his room for a change of clothes. By the time he’d tossed everything into the laundry basket, the sun had begun to set. He sank down on the bed next to Lindsey to check her vitals again, preparing himself for a long night on the wooden chair in her room.
Her pulse beat against his fingers in a regular rhythm, and Dax reminded himself to set an alarm to wake her in an hour. Lindsey had other ideas. She grabbed his hand before he could move away and tugged.
Dax brushed her hair away from her face. “Get some sleep while you can. It’s going to be a long night.”
“Stay here.”
“I am staying. I’ll be right in that chair, annoying you every hour by waking you up.”
Her brow furrowed, but she didn’t open her eyes as she tugged on him again. “No, stay here.”
In her bed. With her. Dax ran his free hand through his hair and thought for half a second about telling her no. She might not remember this in the morning, and he didn’t relish being stabbed first thing. But Lindsey was worth the risk.
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
She grumbled as he extracted his hand but didn’t ask again. Dax had already changed into pajama pants and a basic tee-shirt, but he needed his phone for the alarm. He grabbed it off the bathroom counter, programmed the alarm to go off every hour, and rejoined her on the bed. She’d snuggled under the blankets, so he stretched out on top of them and set his phone on the nightstand.
Sabine and Alex had a pretty nice set-up for guests, but Dax wasn’t a small guy. He took up more than his fair share of the mattress space. To his surprise, Lindsey didn’t scoot closer to him. Instead, she stayed rolled in a ball on the far edge. He got the feeling she wasn’t used to this much bed. His sore muscles started to relax as he tried to take his own advice and get some sleep. The adrenaline spike after Lindsey’s mental body slam had faded, but the events of the day kept replaying over and over again in his head.
Laying on his back, Dax watched the deepening shadows on the ceiling. Speculating on what had happened to Lindsey wouldn’t do much good until she could tel
l him the story.
The air conditioner kicked on, and Dax’s stomach growled. They’d skipped dinner, but he didn’t want to spend too long anywhere that he couldn’t see Lindsey—as if having her within arm’s reach would be enough to keep her safe.
She rolled over, reached out, and laid her hand on his chest. A fierce protectiveness surged to life inside him, more than he’d ever felt for anyone—including his sister. He swallowed the urge to gather her close, to be reassured by her heart beating against him.
Dax supposed he should blame the Fates for his fascination with her, but truthfully, he didn’t give a damn. Lindsey was a gift. In their time together, she’d made his life better in a thousand little ways, and that wasn’t counting the scorching attraction between them.
He’d ribbed Alex for not being able to go out of town without Sabine, but he got it now. Dax covered Lindsey’s hand with his and closed his eyes. Guardian, protector, procurer of pizza—whatever Lindsey needed, he’d provide.
A tiny voice inside worried what would happen when the nomadic Lindsey needed space and freedom, but Dax silenced it. She’d be there until the end of the summer, at least. They’d deal with that eventuality when it happened.
In the near darkness, Dax awoke on his back to find his arm pinned between Lindsey and the mattress, numb from her weight laying on it. He flexed his fingers and welcomed the pins and needles that meant she’d turned to him in her sleep, kicking the blankets to the floor. The alarm blared for the fifth or sixth time—he’d lost count by that point.
She wasn’t on top of him exactly, more like curled into a tight little ball against his side, but one hand had crept under his shirt to lay flat on his abdomen. As he considered the best way to shift her, she stroked his stomach and a bolt of lust shot straight through him.
