Part 14 (1/2)
”Stand up. If we hold hands while we walk, hopefully you'll heal along the way. Otherwise, you won't be much help.”
Gavin grabbed the front of her coat and used it to haul himself to his feet. ”I'll be d.a.m.ned if I let you battle them alone.”
William moaned.
”Get up,” Gavin said, and he kicked the Fate. ”We have to get out of here. Hurry up.”
”Gavin!” Sydney admonished.
”What? He can't die.”
”No, but I can certainly feel pain,” William complained as he struggled into a seated position. He looked down at his lap and then at his surroundings. ”What happened to everyone? Is this Gavin's coat? Weren't we surrounded by Rakshasa? And-Sydney! They didn't get you!” With a burst of energy, he leaped to his feet and pulled her into a breathtaking hug.
Gavin shook his head. ”I think we're both concussed. Anybody know the way back?”
”That way,” Sydney said with absolute conviction. Both men gaped at her. ”Trust me,” she insisted. ”Ever since mating with him, my sense of direction has improved. Now let's go.”
William glanced up from securing Gavin's jacket around his waist. Gavin shrugged, but with no other alternative, they followed the path Sydney indicated.
The fighting was in full tilt by the time they arrived. Gavin had healed enough to be able to fight halfway decently, but Sydney refused to leave his side, despite his commands that she get herself to safety. Nate and Quentin seemed to comprehend his dilemma and made their way to his side, and between the three of them, they were able to keep Sydney from battling too many Rakshasa face to face.
By the time it was all over, the yard was littered with dead and dying Rakshasa, Gavin was near to pa.s.sing out again, and Hilde had already retreated into the house to put together sustenance for the pack. Hugo set up a triage station in the living room. Sydney took Gavin back to their bedroom to get him cleaned up and tuck him into bed.
”Do you want a shower or bath or sponge bath?” Sydney asked as she helped him limp into the bathroom attached to the bedroom they shared.
”Are you involved in any of the options?”
Sydney chuckled. ”All of them,” she a.s.sured him.
He chose a shower, figuring it was the fastest way to get clean. He was desperate to crawl into bed and sleep for the next twelve hours.
”I'm not pregnant, you know,” she commented as she washed away the dirt and blood. Gavin claimed he was too weak to shower by himself, and his mate was kind enough not to deny him in his time of need.
”My day just keeps getting better and better,” he muttered darkly.
”Don't tell me you were truly hoping I was.”
”Okay, I won't tell you.”
”Why?”
”Because you just told me not to.”
Sydney made an exasperated noise. ”Why were you hoping I was pregnant?”
Gavin wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on the top of her head. ”Because I thought I was going to die out there. And I liked the idea that you were carrying my child in your womb. That my memory might carry on, somehow.”
”Oh, Gavin,” Sydney said, as she choked on a sob. She tilted her head, so she could look up at him. ”Your memory would carry on, whether I was pregnant or not. But it doesn't matter now, because you aren't dead.”
”No. I'm not.” They both looked down. He was definitely not dead. ”But I'm not sure I can do it standing up right now. That might just kill me.”
Sydney smiled. ”Let's go to bed.”
They made love slowly, languidly, with Sydney taking the lead. Gavin fell asleep almost instantly afterward, and she lay there for a long time, until she was certain he was sound asleep, and then she gently slipped out of the bed and dressed quickly and quietly in a pair of fleece pants and a matching fleece s.h.i.+rt, and then she slipped out of the bedroom.
”Is he secure?” she asked William, when he met her on the stairs.
William's glare told her he was not remotely happy with this mission, but he nodded curtly anyway.
”Let's go.”
His skirt made a faint swis.h.i.+ng sound as he followed her.
They crept through the quiet house. Most of the s.h.i.+fters slept out in the converted pole barn. Only Gavin, Sydney, William, Hilde and, so it seemed, Quentin, slept inside the house. This made it infinitely easier to slip around undetected.
The stairs leading down to the bas.e.m.e.nt were next to the back door, through the kitchen. They tiptoed through the kitchen, ducking when the s.h.i.+fter on guard duty paced past the outside door.
And then they were in the bas.e.m.e.nt, tugging open a plank wood door built into a far wall of the cement-lined room. They stepped through the doorway, into another room that was simply carved from the dirt. Sydney flipped on the flashlight she'd tucked into her pocket and aimed the beam straight ahead.
The man sitting there lifted his manacled arms to block the sudden glare. After a few moments, he lowered his arms and blinked, trying to focus on the people behind the beam.
”Who's there?” he croaked.
”Sydney.”
The man on the floor actually cowered. ”Did you bring your boyfriend with you?”
”No. And he isn't my boyfriend, Brandon. He's my mate.”
”Does he know I'm here?”
Sydney gave William a swift glance before turning her attention back to Brandon. ”No.”
”Keeping secrets? That's not very mate-like.” Brandon made a tsking sound.
”If he knew you were here, he'd kill you.”
”And why aren't you telling him?”
”Because I happen to believe you're redeemable.”
She watched him drop his head against the dirt wall behind him. He closed his eyes and grimaced. ”f.u.c.k,” he muttered. ”I think I have a vague idea of what he must feel like, all the d.a.m.n time.”
”What do you mean?”
Brandon waved one shackled arm. ”The guilt. You sure know how to lay it on thick, don't you?”