Immortally Ever After (2 page)

Besides, if I was going to marry anyone, it would have been Galen. And he was gone.

Marc opened the door wide. “Let’s take a walk, Petra.”

I sat frozen on my camp stool. “Now?”

Every single one of them was nodding at me.

Hell. Now the rumors would really start. Knowing this camp, they’d have a betting pool set up on the sex, weight, and birthday of the baby before we passed the infirmary.

I stood. “Sure.” I could do that. I’d faced down wild imps and soul-sucking Shrouds and even a pair of giant scorpions who’d wanted to eat me. I could handle a bit of gossip. I knew Marc. He wouldn’t rush this.

I tried to smile at him as I ducked out the door, but Marc looked nervous. Jeffe wasn’t the only one who couldn’t bluff.

Get a grip.

It didn’t mean anything.

A line of sweat trickled down my back. Ten years ago, when he and I lived in New Orleans, I’d stumbled across an engagement ring in his dresser. He must have been planning for days to ask me. Weeks, maybe. He’d never managed to pull the trigger back then. And there had been so much less standing in the way.

He gazed down at me, his deep green eyes glittering. “I found something interesting in the minefield.”

“Fine.” Good. I rubbed at the tension in my neck. The minefield was rife with pranks. Maybe Marc had set up a new one. Or maybe it was the first leg of a little walk he had planned. I didn’t know.

Still, I didn’t feel like taking chances. I cleared my throat. “Are you positive you don’t want to get a drink at the officers’ club?” I asked, a little too cheerfully.

“Since when are you a big drinker?” he chided, leading me down the darkened path.

It was never too late to start.

The night air was chilly as we walked the paths through the low-slung tents of the MASH camp.

A group of mechanics passed us going the other way, calling out their congratulations. I pretended not to notice.

Stomach churning, I focused on the torches lining the walk.

We’d talked the new gods into a generator for the hospital, but, otherwise, they insisted we go old-school with lanterns and anything else we could set on fire. Because, you know, we were the progressive side.

Marc handed me a torch as we left the path and headed up through the unit cemetery, stopping at the edge of the minefield.

Now, the minefield wasn’t loaded with actual explosives, at least I didn’t think so. It was our junk depot, so full of broken-down vehicles, half-wrecked buildings, and machinery parts that the bored among us had seen fit to rig it with practical jokes. It was pointless and immature, but that’s why we liked it.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked. Not just because I wasn’t great at relationship talks. But also because this was the minefield. At night.

“What are you afraid of?” Marc teased.

“You want a list?”

I didn’t like to wander too far from 3063
rd
. I was a doctor, not a soldier. And even though the minefield was on the edge of camp, the wards weren’t so strong out here.

Imps stalked the desert outside camp, along with lots of other cursed creatures that I didn’t like to think about. Like giant flesh-eating scorpions. Yes, Galen had saved me once, but I wasn’t keen on pushing it.

Plus, with the cease-fire signed, the army was cleaning house and dumping a scary amount of new junk in here.

Marc nudged me along. “Let’s go.”

We could barely see three feet in front of my torch.

A bloodred slice of moon shone above as I buttoned my rust-red flack jacket.

Maybe I’d get hit with a bucket of pickled eggs and have to go home.

Marc was way too confident as we eased past the wrecked ambulance at the entrance.

I squeezed in my stomach as far as it would go and inched between a gutted Humvee and the shell of a burned-out guard tower. I took a second look. That wasn’t even ours. “This is such a bad idea.”

“I know,” he said, taking my hand. He kissed me at the wrist, his lips brushing my sensitive skin. I went a little breathless.

Damn the man.

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment.” I looked out over the twisted, darkened path ahead of us. We were definitely headed somewhere. You’d think if it was the latest, greatest prank, he’d at least be telling me about it by now.

I ducked away from him, edging around a musty-smelling archway, avoiding the trip wire strung across it.

He followed, grinning.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” I said.

He tilted his head. “You’re not enjoying it enough.” I felt the rough tug of my torch as he slipped it from my fingers and propped it up on a pitted, half-falling-apart hospital gurney.

He pulled me close, his lips bent to mine. “Here. Let me show you what I mean.” He kissed me once, twice, his mouth teasing me. His warmth washed over me as he nibbled at my lower lip.

Heat flushed through my body, along with fear. I felt like I was agreeing to something, without having any of the facts.

Besides, we had to keep our guard up out here. Gently, I pulled away.

He watched me intently. “Is there something wrong?”

“No,” I lied. “Nothing.” He should be everything I wanted. I slid my hands up his well-muscled arms, over his chest, and felt his beating heart. He was a good person. It should be enough.

Somehow, it wasn’t. I’d been seeing Marc for less than three months. Sure, I’d been ready to get engaged ten years ago, before we’d been separated by war, before they’d told me he was dead. It had been enough of a shock to see him alive and well. I was just starting to get to know him again.

It wasn’t as if we could still pretend we were naïve residents back at Tulane and that the last decade had never happened. It had and now both of us had changed.

“Come on,” he said, leading me forward, waiting a second while I reached back for the torch. “I worked hard on this.”

I offered up a quick prayer that he was still talking about a prank.

We walked until we came out of the side path and onto the main one. We waited a moment before emerging.

Father McArio lived just down the way, supposedly for the peace and quiet. I knew it was because he liked to minister to the lost souls that lingered just beyond the wards.

I didn’t want to wake him, or more to the point, be in a position where he was asking where I was going with Marc. The rocks just beyond the minefield were a huge make-out spot.

Marc took my hand and silently tugged me deeper into the darkness, toward the rocky plain beyond. Damn it.

Unlike some couples, we didn’t need to go to the rocks in order to be alone. Marc and I shared a tent. That was enough of a commitment for me right now.

Marc had never been as much of a risk taker back in New Orleans. Now that he was stuck in the wilds of limbo, that had changed. Lots of other things had too. Give me a few years and I might be able to figure him out again.

My nerves tangled as he led me onto a path that lay just beyond the largest outcropping of rocks. We’d never been this way before. Sweat dribbled down my neck. I was aware of every single step as my boots crunched against the rocky soil.

He led me down into a hidden enclave. It was cooler than above, as each step took us farther from the surface of the desert.

We found ourselves in a low, rocky clearing. I planted my torch in a holder near the edge.

Marc continued on to a large stone slab at the center. Shadows danced across the hard planes of his cheek and jaw.

The fire caught a dark red wine bottle and two glasses. I blew out a breath. I could do this.

He reached down and withdrew a wrapped black bundle. A grin tickling his lips, he unwound it to reveal a single, red rose. The soft petals were just beginning to open.

I was taken aback by the completely unexpected beauty of it. Nothing grew in the dusty red soil of limbo.

“Happy birthday,” he said, holding it out to me.

Relief and gratitude whooshed over me. My birthday. “It’s not until next month.” I didn’t care.

He shrugged a shoulder, obviously pleased. “I couldn’t wait.”

I brushed my fingers over the delicate petals, smelled the sweet fragrance. I hadn’t seen a flower in eight years, since I’d left home. “How did you get this?”

His eyes shone with pleasure. “It wasn’t as hard as finding this.”

Marc pulled a small red box from his pocket and I froze. It looked just like the box I’d found in his dresser when we worked together at Tulane.

He’d been ready at that time to give me a ring. And then he was kidnapped by the gods, brought down here to fight an eternal war. I’d lost him.

And now?

I was afraid to move, terrified to think.

Please let it be a necklace. I’d love a necklace. I’d wear it everywhere. I’d never take it off. I’d cherish that necklace until I went old and gray.

He stood over me, his expression earnest.

My heart stuttered and I felt my desperation rise as he bent down on one knee and opened the box. It held the simple diamond solitaire from so many years ago.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Hey.” He touched my hand. “Look at me.” When I did, I saw the worst thing of all—hope, happiness. His sincere belief that this was a moment he’d want to cherish. I still couldn’t believe this amazing man was kneeling in front of me. “I know I only just found you again, but Petra, I love you. I can’t imagine life without you.” He stood, a smile tickling his lips. “Will you marry me?”

Hell and damnation.

I would have. I should have. But that didn’t matter now.

Yes, he’d been my first love and I’d been overjoyed to find him again, but I’d
just
found him again.

I wet my lips, realized I was shaking. He’d been gone for ten years. Now we were in the middle of a war. We couldn’t expect it to feel like it used to feel.

Or maybe I was just a complete commitment freak. Marc was a good man. He was smart and considerate and he had that annoyingly beautiful adventurous streak. He came from a warm family, a loving home. And he wanted to re-create that here, as much as we could. I loved him. There was no reason not to want to be with him.

For the rest of my life.

“I can’t.” I said it quickly, before I lost my courage. My head buzzed and it almost felt like someone else saying the words.

He sat back, shocked. “Why?”

I froze as my brain searched frantically for an explanation. There was nothing either one of us could say that would make this right.

God, I wished he would just get up off the ground.

My eyes filled with tears. Marc was loving and strong and smart and, I hiccupped, gorgeous. He was perfect on paper. But that didn’t mean I should marry him.

I owed it to him, and to myself, to take a step back from this. For now, at least.

My fingers trembled as I gripped the stem of the rose, like a lifeline. It snapped in half. “Damn it,” I said, focusing on the broken stem, unable to look at the man in front of me. “I’m sorry,” I said, as if that would somehow make it whole again.

But it was broken.

Pebbles rained down from the ledge above. It took me an extra second to even feel them as they landed on our heads and scattered at our feet.

I wheeled around to see Horace the sprite. He was about half the size of the average man, with golden wings fluttering on his heels and at his shoulders.

“Finally.” He exhaled, planting his tiny combat boots on the stone slab. “Do you know how hard you were to find?”

Marc stood, eyeing Horace. “Not hard enough.” His eyes were guarded, his expression stony.

“Hurry,” the sprite said, ready to take off again. “It can’t wait.”

I tried to wrap my head around whatever Horace wanted. “What’s the matter?”

“Two critical cases,” he said, his pointy ears twitching. “Both stabbed. Most likely poisoned as well.”

I didn’t understand. “Did the attending on call send for us?” They should have been able to handle two casualties.

Marc and I needed to focus on what had just happened. I owed it to him to talk this through, to try to explain why I’d put a bullet in his heart.

Horace shook his head so hard that glitter rained down. “The attending surgeon is unaware. Absolutely no one can know about this.”

It was unheard of. “Why not?”

Horace’s wings trembled as he hovered above us. “It’s Galen.”

chapter two

Cold shock washed over me. “Galen is gone.”

He’d cut all ties. Never mind that I was madly in love with him. I’d never felt for anyone what I’d felt for Galen. He was everything to me. Hell, probably the reason why I couldn’t say yes to Marc.

Once upon a time, I’d been ready to promise Galen anything. And he’d walked away.

Horace frowned. “Not anymore.” The sprite tugged on my sleeve. “Hurry.”

God. Two critical cases. Stabbed. Possibly poisoned.

“Is there something I should know?” Marc asked, studying me.

“There is,” I said, dreading it with every fiber of my being.

“Now!” Horace demanded.

“Right,” I said, as we took off after the darting sprite. Soon. I’d tell Marc soon.

My pulse pounded and my legs felt like rubber. Galen was mortal because of me. He was injured, possibly dying.

Shit.

I couldn’t imagine a world without Galen in it.

Marc stayed with me, next to me, as we cleared the rocks.

Goose bumps skittered up my arms as we dashed into the minefield. We ducked past hulking skeletons of buildings and dodged piles of debris on either side of the path.

The last thing we needed was to trip a booby trap. Horace darted in and out of the mess. “What happened?” I called out. “Why is it a secret?” Worry clawed at me. Just what kind of trouble was Galen in?

Horace’s flight trajectory wavered as he glanced back, his face pinched with worry. “I don’t know. He’ll only talk to you.”

“What the hell?” I missed a step and would have gone tumbling to the ground if Marc hadn’t caught me.

Get it together.
Galen needed me. That was the only thing that mattered right now.

In a few minutes, I’d be face-to-face with the man I thought I’d love forever. If I made it there in time. I was such a mess.