Winter's Scars: The Forsaken (Winter's Saga 5) (26 page)

Meg swallowed hard.

“Why did you protect me?”

“I was following orders.”

“Whose orders?”

“Though they were on opposite sides, both Arkdone and Williams wanted you kept safe.”

“Who tried to harm me?”

“
A couple soldiers, a male nurse, a cook—I lost count.”  His voice lowered and for a moment, Meg thought Sirus had slipped out, but when she turned in her seat, she saw crisp hazel eyes.

“That many?  That’s just sick!”  Meg felt like throwing up at the thought of being so close to having been violated while unaware and unable to fight for herself.

The plane had come to a stop and the flight attendant was advising everybody to check for their carry-on baggage.  As the “thank you for flying with us” was still being delivered, another attendant unfolded Meg’s wheelchair and brought it as close as the narrow passageway would allow. 

“Thanks, I got it from here,” Gideon said to the attendant as he stood, filling the passageway with his wide shoulders.  He was so tall he had to bow just so he could fit.  The
attendants seemed to want to say something about policy, but just stood back and let Gideon lean over and carefully lift Meg out of her seat then place her in the wheelchair. 

In the moment it took for him to accomplish this task, Meg wrapped her arms around his neck and reached out with her emotions to feel the soldier.  For the first time, she saw the kaleidoscope of auras that existed inside the man holding her protectively.  He truly had multiple personalities inside him
—she could see their different colors clearly.

“Miss?” the flight attendant seemed to jump nervously at the sound of her own voice.  “I’m sorry, but I have to ask.  You look very familiar.  Would I know you from somewhere?  The television?”  Her face was blushing deep red under her pasty makeup but her eyes looked determined.

“No, ma’am.  I’m nobody,” Meg lied.

She exchanged ominous looks with Gideon as he finished pulling her out of the plane backward until there was room enough to turn her around.  Halfway up the jet bridge Meg finally exhaled the breath she was holding.

“Gideon?” she looked up at him before reaching back and gently grasped his forearm.

“What is it, Meg?”  His voice was slightly rough, but Meg was starting to recognize the slight variation between Gideon’s emotion-filled voice and Sirus’ regular deep voice.

“I may need to wear a disguise when I’m in public now that we’re back in the States.”

“Noted,” he was still fuming.  He was half a breath
away from reaching out to snap the neck of that nosy woman, but he knew there was no way he could do that without drawing attention to them. The real reason he was still angry was that he hadn’t thought of Meg being recognized before. 

She was still holding his forearm when she asked, “What’s your favorite color?”  She knew it seemed like a very little-kid question to ask, but she needed to figure something out, and she was pretty sure Gideon would unknowingly give her
the answer.

He glanced down at her as she peered up and over her shoulder at him.  Her wide, dark eyes looked beautiful.  How many weeks had he watched over her as she slept, dreaming and waiting for the day when he would be able to see the color of her eyes again?  Now he could see how they would gather the light and sparkle even in the dark.  He wished it weren’t true, but the more he spoke with her, felt her light fingertips on his searing hot skin, the more he was undeniably drawn to her.

“What is
your
favorite color?”

Meg smiled slightly.  “Blood red.”

“Red, eh?  That’s a coincidence.” 

Meg felt one of the colors in his kaleidoscope of auras brighten.  The dark,
blood red light pulsed with excitement.

She let go of his arm and put her hands back in her lap.  She smiled to herself as she thought,
There you are, Gideon.  I found you.

They were the first to be let off the plane, so no one was in their way to see the chauffer waiting patiently as he held a sign reading “Naya Arkdone.”

“Naya, allow me to introduce you to Ermos.  Ermos, this is Naya Arkdone.”  Sirus’ deep voice came through now.  Sometime during the brief walk up the passageway, Sirus stepped forward to take over the body.  Meg frowned at the switch, somehow feeling left hanging by Gideon.

“How do you do, Miss Naya?” Ermos’ European accent was thick.  He wore a traditional driver’s hat and jacket and bowed slightly to Meg.

“I’m doing well, thanks Ermos.  How are you?”

Ermos’ eyes widened in surprise at being asked about himself.  “I’m, um…I’m well, Miss.  Thank you for asking.”

“Sirus?  Is the wheelchair still necessary?” Meg asked pointedly, making it clear she knew exactly who was present.

“Yes,” he growled under his breath so Ermos wouldn’t hear him as they followed the thirty-something
-year-old man to the VIP exit.

“Why are you upset?”

“We’ll discuss this later, Naya.”

“Don’t call me that.  I’m Meg.”

“You’d better get used to it, Naya.  The Senator chose that name for you and he can be very insistent.”

“Let him insist all he wants,” Meg crossed her arms defiantly.  She was growing tired from her efforts to read Gideon and she was nowhere near one-hundred percent after waking from the medically induced coma.  “I don’t like being pushed around,” she growled up at Sirus.  Her double meaning wasn’t lost on the black-eyed alter. 

He stopped the wheelchair and leaned down to lock the wheels when Meg leaped up and out of the chair.  She stood with her arms still crossed, hip jutting to the side defiantly.

“Ermos, would you mind waiting for us in the car
?  I need a quick talk with Miss Naya.”

“As you wish, Mr. Niche.”  The large chauffer opened his driver’s door and dropped his large frame into the seat
before closing the door behind him.

“What is your problem?” Sirus snarled into Meg’s face the moment the driver was out of earshot.

“I don’t like it when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Trade places with Gideon abruptly.”

“What?”

“It’s rude!”

“Let me get this straight.  You don’t want me to take over my duties as I’ve always done for us just because Gideon didn’t say goodbye?”

“It’s rude!” Meg actually stamped her foot.  She knew she was acting childish and the whole thing was downright bizarre, but if she was going to be trapped in this altered reality with no memories of life before crash landing in the Appalachian Mountains, she was going to set some boundaries, damn it!

“No, what’s rude is using your little witchcraft shit to try to manipulate us.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“Isn’t it?”

“I just awoke from being in a coma for fourteen weeks and now am traveling under an assumed name with a man who has serious identity issues, at best.  I have no idea what I’m doing or where you’re taking me. And you actually think anything I’m doing right now is for
you
?  How egocentric can you be, Sirus?  I’m trying to understand what’s happened to
me
.  I need to figure out who I can trust and somehow relearn who I am—you self-centered, id-minded,
CHILD!
  And don’t you
EVER
call me a witch again!”

Meg had been stepping toward the black-eyed soldier, unconcerned at the scene she was making for passersby.  At her last sentence, she shoved Sirus down off the curb and against the black limousine so their difference in height wasn’t as pronounced.   She stared him down, oblivious of the fact that he outweighed her by a hundred-fifty pounds of muscle.

Sirus was fuming.  He’d never been talked to that way by any female and he wasn’t about to take her tirade quietly. 

Just then he felt a huge shove from inside.  

He stood shaking his head in amazement.  “I can’t freakin’ believe this.  Listen, I am here to protect Gideon, and he’s here to protect you.  He’s pissed at me because he thinks I’m hurting you, and he’s trying to come out to defend you.”

Meg’s brows furrowed.  “You said Gideon doesn’t know about you.”

“I said he knows what he needs to know—which isn’t much.  That’s the real trippy part about this whole shit night.”

With that, Sirus looked down and shivered slightly.  When he looked up
, Meg was staring into the hazel eyes of Gideon.

“Are you okay?” he asked, worry working the lines in his handsome face.

“Gideon?”  Meg asked, just because she needed reassurance.

“I’m here, Meg.” He whispered gruffly
.  He looked around and placed his strong hand at her elbow.  “We’re getting in this car.”  It was a statement of resignation, not a question.  Gideon had spent a lifetime trying to look as if he hadn’t just walked into the party late. 

“Yes, Ermos is here to drive us.” Meg instantly reacted to Gideon as a completely different person than Sirus, because he was.

When she was arguing with Sirus, she caught his aura as a sickly yellow with dull gray edges.  He was a very different person than Gideon. 

Or was he?
  Meg thought carefully as he opened the door for her and helped her inside. 

“Are we ready now, Mr.
Niche?”

“Yes, Ermos,” Gideon said as he opened the small refrigerator tucked in the center console in front of where he and Meg sat.  He pulled out a bottle of water, unscrewed the cap then handed it to Meg. 

“You need to keep your fluids up, Meg.  They always hydrated and fed you when you were in the coma, but now you have to do it for yourself again.  Take small sips.  Your stomach hasn’t had real food or drink in a very long time.  So if you feel like you’re going to be sick, here.”  He held up an airsickness bag.  “I’m ready to help.”

“Thank you, Gideon.” Meg breathed a soft sigh of relief.  She felt so much safer when he was there.

She took two small sips before replacing the cap and snuggling back deep into the soft black leather seat.  Just before she dozed off, she jerked wide awake with a start.

“Gideon?”

“Yes?”

“Please be here when I wake?”

“Where else would I be?”

“I’m serious.” She leaned her head back against the soft seat, exhaustion curling around her like a warmed towel.

“So am I, Meg.”

“You’re my protector?”  She asked, half asleep.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Not even you?”

Gideon frowned at the beauty whose dark lashes fought against gravity as they draped against her pale skin for a moment before opening just enough for him to see the starlight dance in her night eyes.  She was trying to stay awake for his answer.

He leaned toward her to whisper in her ear, “I never want to hurt you.”

“
You
may not want to, Gideon, but there’s a part of you that already has.”

Chapter 49 Weaknesses

The parking garage at Napl
es Airport was full of cars owned by business travelers who would be arriving later that evening to return to their homes, exhausted from their day’s work.  Alik, Creed and Farrow weren’t any more rested, but they were just arriving at the garage having tracked Meg’s echo there. 

They parked far from the doors that would take them inside the building only because that’s where the soldier driving Meg had parked.  Everyone got out of the car
, but Alik never lost sight of his sister’s echo.  He was acting as a commentator, describing play-by-play what had happened to her. 

When he got to the part about the male fighting Meg in the front seat of their car, it was all Creed could do to keep from punching the nearest pillar of cement holding up the next level of cars.  Instead, he internalized his anger.  That’s when the hint of an approaching migraine reared its ugly head, but Creed said nothing, not wanting to be the reason Alik lost concentration.

“She’s changing into clothes in the back seat of the car.” 

Creed’s head whipped around to shoot daggers at Alik.

“Don’t worry Creed.  The guy turned his back and is waiting outside the car.”

“Great, I may just kill him quickly for that courtesy
,” Creed growled, seeing his first flash of an aura. 
This migraine is coming quickly.  Shit,
he thought.

“They’re heading inside.  Let’s go!”  Alik walked at a fast clip as he chased the energy fingerprint that was his sister. 

“He’s gotten her a wheelchair.  It looks like…” Alik paused to watch, “yeah, they’re heading toward the attendant’s counter.  I have to see where he’s taking her.”

The airline attendant at the counter looked up in time to see the three chiseled and gorgeous figures walking toward her.  All three moved catlike, as though their muscles were designed for stealth and agility just as much for predatory aggression.