Immortally Embraced

chapter three




“Trust?” The man wanted to talk trust? For as much as I wanted to feel relief and joy, all I could comprehend was stark white shock.

He’d abandoned me. He’d lied. For ten straight years. “We thought you were dead,” I said, body shaking. “We buried you.” I’d sat with his mother on the floral couch in her living room and cried until we were sick with it.

My head felt like it was going to float away. I stood stock-still, trying to get a grip. “Now you’re back. Not because you’re sorry or because you miss me, but because you trust me.” It hurt more than I would ever admit. And at that moment, a secret awful part of me wished he’d stayed dead.

His voice grew husky. “The army made a mistake.” He stared at me hard, as if he could make me understand by force of will alone.

My stomach hollowed. “You did, too.” He’d had ten years to correct the error and he didn’t.

He reached for me. “Listen, I know—”

I held out a hand to block him. “Why’d you do it? What happened?” How had this gotten so f*cked up? “No more bullshit,” or wishing things were different. He’d had his chance and he blew it.

He scraped a hand through his hair, making it spike up even worse. He was shaking. “Our unit was too close to the front,” he said. “We had to retreat. But I’d just done an arterial reconstruction. There was no way we could move that patient for at least twenty-four hours.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “So you stayed.” I’d heard this part before.

“Yes.” He was tense, his muscles drawn painfully tight. “It was the only thing to do.”

I knew that. “I never blamed you.” His father hadn’t understood. His mother had been so angry. But I knew he didn’t have a choice. I would have done the same thing.

A muscle twitched over his cheekbone. “The camp was overrun and the new army was ordered to take no prisoners.”

My stomach dropped. It was as good as an order of execution. “My side did that?” The shock of it loosened me. I stepped backward, hand on my hip, trying to make sense of it. We didn’t order killings. We were the enlightened ones.

Marc’s voice tightened. “My patient was given to the Shrouds.”

“No,” I said, the word tumbling out of me.

The enemy—their side—they were the ones who used the cursed creatures who fed on life like parasites. Shrouds moved like silvery shadows, sucking the life and souls from humans and endlessly torturing immortals to the brink of death.

Marc had confessed it without malice. He hadn’t asked for pity. He was telling me the plain truth. He’d accepted it. I couldn’t even fathom it.

His eyes held mine. “One of their special ops officers was supposed to take me out back and slit my throat. Only he pulled his punch. Left it to the fates. Said if I was supposed to live, I would.” The pain of it crossed his face. “I lived. I made it back to our lines.” He cast me a guilty look. “By then I’d been reported dead for a month. They’d shipped my personal effects back home. You’d buried an empty casket.”

I couldn’t imagine going through something so horrific, so wrong. Still, “You didn’t feel the need to tell us you were alive?”

Part of me died when I lost him. He’d been my entire world. I didn’t have anything else besides Marc and my studies at Tulane. He’d stayed and done his fellowship there so that we could be together. He was the one person who was never going to leave me.

I didn’t know what was worse: That he’d let me grieve. That he’d torn a hole in his own family when they lost him. Or that he couldn’t seem to comprehend just how much he’d meant to us.

He swallowed hard. “I knew I was never coming home. Sure, I could give you false hope. I could write you letters. But it was killing Mom.” He cast me a miserable look, as if daring me to deny it. “She wasn’t sleeping. She wasn’t eating. She was afraid to live, because what if she so much as cracked a smile while I was dying somewhere? You know it’s true,” he said, noting my surprise. “She told me.”

My throat tightened. Of course it was true. “She loved you.” How could he expect his own mother to let go? How could any of us ask that?

As far as I was concerned, the family Marc had left behind was a gift. They truly loved one another. And me. Yes, we’d suffered together because of it, but I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

He grimaced. “You weren’t moving on,” he said, as if it cost him to utter each word.

I shrugged, helpless. “I couldn’t.”

The air around us thickened. “I know,” he said simply. “I never planned to let any of you go.” He cleared his throat.

He reached out for me, and then changed his mind. I felt it like a slap. “It was better to let you have closure,” he said.

Of all the … “Do you honestly believe that?” I demanded. Did he have any clue how much it hurt to know that the man I loved was dead?

I closed the distance between us, wanting to touch him, hating myself that I refused to do it. I wanted to punch Marc and Galen and every man in the history of time who’d tried to be noble. “It doesn’t work that way. You can’t manipulate people like that. You have to live your life as it comes.” No apologies. No sugarcoating it.

We stood inches apart, unmoving. He didn’t back down. Neither did I.

He was so mad, spots of color streaked his cheeks and forehead. “I didn’t want you living your life for a day that would never come,” he ground out. “I didn’t want to hold you back. I was never going to make it home. You still had a life. I wanted you to move on, get married, have babies.”

“I thought you loved me.”

“I do love you!” he snapped.

I stepped back. “Well, then you’ve got a shitty way of showing it.”

He shook his head slowly. “Maybe I do.” He dropped his chin for a moment. When he faced me again, the pain in his eyes was staggering. “I’d have done anything—even let someone else have you—if it meant you’d be happy again.”

What? Did I have MOVE ON WHILE I GO DIE NOBLY printed on my forehead?

I twisted my lips into a mock smile. “That was your mistake.” I’d never wanted anyone else. Not until Galen.

And look how that had turned out.

“Petra.” His take-charge bravado slipped and I saw the Marc I remembered, the man who felt too much. The pain in his eyes seared me to the core. “I didn’t want you to suffer.”

Too late.

I let out a breath. This was so f*cked up. I leaned my back against the rough wood tent pole. “It would have been nice to know you were down here when I got conscripted.” I could have used the support.

He dug a hand through his hair. “We’re on opposite sides.”

“Right.” He was the enemy.

A loud crash sounded outside. Quickly Marc and I ducked back into the dusty shadows behind the last wooden shower stall. He drew me close, and for a moment I held my breath for an entirely different reason. I remembered the warm steady feel of him, the way his fingers gripped when he held me.

The heat of him seeped through the thin material at my back. His body pressed against me. We used to wake up that way, him molding me from behind, his lips brushing along my shoulder blade.

I closed my eyes as his breath warmed my ear. His chest rose and fell against me. I felt myself soften at the very core. It was my body’s natural response to being held, nothing else. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to remember. I tried to draw away, but he held me close. He even smelled the same. Under the sweat and dirt, I detected the warm, spicy scent of him that used to make me feel safe and loved.

Two men outside cursed loudly. Dukkies quacked up a storm.

Fear pricked along my spine. Our patrols didn’t usually monitor the minefield, unless they suspected a threat had made it past our defenses.

Their voices calmed and once again, we heard them speaking low to each other as they approached. My heart sped up. The air inside the showers was heavy and hot. A drop of perspiration slid down my chest. I couldn’t make out the words the guards spoke, but I knew these two weren’t out to party in the minefield—or at the rocks.

Seven hells. I was hiding out with the enemy.

I wondered what they’d do to him if they caught him here. I pressed closer to Marc without even thinking about it. His arm tightened around me. The last time, our side had tried to execute him.

“Hey now,” I heard a familiar voice say. It was Father McArio. He was usually in camp during the day.

“Have you seen any suspicious activity?” one of the men grunted.

“Yes,” Father said with conviction and my heart sank. “Out by my hutch. I was just coming to find you.”

Thank God. I about collapsed against Marc as Father led the men away.

I turned around, hands braced on his chest. His field jacket was rough, and dusty from the desert. He’d always been lean, but now he was coarser, harder.

His gaze raked over me; his fingers traced me like he was trying to memorize every breath, every touch, every nuance of my expression as I watched him. I should have stepped back, but I didn’t.

“I can’t believe you just waltzed into my camp,” I whispered.

Marc drew a hand down my arm, as if any moment I’d bolt. A wry smile twisted his lips. “I didn’t think they’d forward a letter.”

Most people I knew grew more cautious with war. Marc had grown more reckless. And while I’d never been a big believer in the rules, I knew which ones to follow in order to stay alive.

I shook my head. He was nuts to try to find me. It was too cocky, too bold. “Can you at least try to be practical?”

The corner of his mouth tipped into a grin. “I am. This was the best way to find you.”

I snorted. “You still haven’t told me what you want.”

His humor fled. “It’s complicated.”

I’d figured.

He checked his watch. “I need to get back soon. I’m with the MASH-19X. We’re set up about thirty miles away, on the other side of the Great Divide.”

That was even crazier. “How’d you make it over?” The Great Divide was the line of demarcation for the immortal armies.

He shrugged a powerful shoulder. “I flew out just before dawn.”

I gaped at him. Sure, he was a shapeshifting dragon, but you couldn’t just breeze over hostile territory.

“I had help,” he said, drawing me into the light. “This is important. I’ve been working on a big project with Dr. Keller.”

He had to be kidding me. “Dr. Keller from Loyola?” He’d been Marc’s mentor, and one of my professors, too. Keller was tough but good.

Marc nodded. “We were conscripted at the same time. Last winter, he called on me to help him develop a new medicine. Supposedly.” He frowned. “Research and Development is overseeing it.”

“Interesting.” The gods tended to shun new technology, thinking the old ways superior. Any new medicines were usually the result of little labs like mine.

The light played off Marc’s face. “We were only given one part of the project. That alone is unusual. But there’s also something off in the chemical structure. I don’t think it is what they say it is. It could be dangerous.”

“This is war,” I reminded him. Hell, I’d already blown up my lab once trying to come up with a simple anesthetic that worked on immortals.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Believe me, nobody’s ever seen anything like this. I covered for Keller while he ran some special experiments,” he said, his tone grim. “Off the books.”

“That sounds like Keller.” And Marc.

“Until the night I was on call in the OR. He stayed in the lab. He was on the verge of a big breakthrough. I hadn’t seen him that excited in months.” He paused, his lips pressed together. “Then he disappeared.”

My stomach twisted. I’d heard about how people disappeared in the old army. “Maybe he was transferred,” I said. It could happen.

Marc shook his head. “We both know that’s not true.” He drew in a breath. “Now there’s a ghost in the lab. It’s destroying everything and I don’t know why.”

My heart squeezed a little. “You think it’s him.”

He gave a long sigh. “No one has been able to get close, but I’m pretty sure it’s Dr. Keller.”

Marc was the only other person besides Galen who knew my secret. And while Galen sacrificed to hide me, “You want to expose me.”

“No,” he said hard, unrepentant. “I only want you to talk to my ghost.”

“To a murdered soul,” I whispered under my breath.

“I’ll stand with you,” he said. “I’ll do anything you need to keep you safe.”

But he wouldn’t see what I saw. The souls couldn’t touch him.

Murdered dead were traumatized by the sins of their killers. They were unpredictable, angry. If they moved on, they could be restored. Until then, they were dark. Their rage gave them wild and unpredictable powers.

“I told you about the spirit of the murdered girl in Laveal Swamp,” I said. I’d steered my boat out to her. She’d dived straight for me, burrowing into my skin, greedy to get inside me. For a brief moment, she’d possessed me.

I’d blacked out, lost myself, and felt only the sheer, startling pain of her black soul crushing me.

Murdered souls were mindless, vicious. They wanted to live again and would do anything to find an easy host—me.

“I know what I’m asking,” Marc said, his words low and unapologetic. “I’ve thought long and hard about this. You’re not a teenager anymore. And I wouldn’t ask this if it weren’t important.” He fixed his gaze on me. “Can you talk to him?”

My mouth went dry.

It was very likely that Keller had been slaughtered just so he couldn’t talk.

I drew a hand over my eyes. It might be too late anyway. “How long has he been gone?”

“Two nights ago,” Marc said, regret coloring his words.

Damn it. There was a good chance he’d be around. Sprits often lingered where they died, especially in the cases of violent death.

“In your lab. In an enemy camp.” I said, trying to wrap my head around it.

He looked at me steadily, willing me to say yes. “I can get you in.”

It was nuts. “I’m not even sure how you got out.”

“Look here,” he said, drawing a small military map out of his back pocket. He unfolded it over his leg. “The armies are dug in at the edge of the fourth quadrant, both in a U-shaped pattern.”

He traced a blunt finger over the sandy beige topographic map. In red, he’d scrawled the long front lines of the armies, with their backup forces pulled in on either side.

“How am I supposed to get around that?” That much power in one place could literally make the battlefield vibrate. The energy on the ground would be astronomical. It would fry me in a second.

Marc glanced up. “I’ve got a person working on it.”

I studied him. “Do you really think I’m crazy enough to go with you?” Even I had my limits.

A dull suspicion spiraled in the pit of my stomach. “Wait. Are you trying to use this to somehow try and reunite?” Because it wouldn’t work. “I can’t handle that.” I was done getting yanked around.

He didn’t budge, but his eyes betrayed the depth of his hurt. “I’ve known about you for weeks.”

“Oh,” I said, stung. He certainly hadn’t rushed to my side.

Guilt flashed across his features. “PNN.”

The hoarders. Great.

He looked me square in the eye. “I’m not going to lie to you.”

I nodded, not sure if I appreciated that or not. There’s nothing like knowing your ex truly didn’t miss you.

Stamping down the hurt, I offered a tremulous smile. This wasn’t about love or loss. The practical, bold, take-no-prisoners Marc hadn’t been hell-bent to see me. He was risking his skin in order to talk to our dead ex-professor. And this really was about a reckless field trip to an enemy camp.

I pushed back a layer of hair that had fallen over my eyes. “I don’t even know how I’d get there.” He could shift and fly, but I was stuck on the ground, within the strict confines of camp.

We kept our borders protected for a reason. Imps roamed the limbo landscape. And if they didn’t get you, you were just as likely to be swallowed by a bottomless sinkhole or attacked by a rogue demon.

Not to mention what had happened to Galen when he went AWOL.

Still, I couldn’t help but think about the prophecy, about the new weapon.

Marc’s eyes searched mine. “I know it’s too much, but do this for me. With me.”

Even though I don’t want you.

Merde. Was he trying to shove a knife in my chest?

Or make me want to shove one into his?

He stood before me, ready to lead the charge, damn the consequences. It was as if he could change things through sheer force of will. I drew a hand over my eyes. “You’re certifiable.”

He seemed to take that as a compliment. “And you’re stronger than you think.”

I sighed, torn. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“It has to be under the cover of night.” He glanced out of the tent. “I came in by the priest’s hutch, but that’s too dangerous now with the patrols out.”

“Don’t tell me you were going to rope Father McArio into this.” The realization dawned on me. “You already did.” That’s why the padre drew the patrol away. That’s why he was wandering around the minefield.

Father McArio was sixty-five if he was a day. He should have retired. Instead, he’d volunteered for an assignment in limbo, a life sentence. He was my mentor and my friend and as far as I was concerned, he took too many risks already.

He was going to get himself killed one of these days, but I sure didn’t want it to be because he was helping me.

Marc cast me a rueful look. “I met Father McArio while scouting the camp. Hell of a nice guy. Before I knew it, I was telling him who I was.”

Father had a way of making people do that.

“He delivered the note to your door. He told me where we should meet.”

I groaned out loud. They were two peas in a pod. The old Jesuit never could leave well enough alone, but this was too big—even for him. I shot him a look. “No more talking to Father McArio.”

“You’re right,” he said, completely nonplussed. “It’s a risk to both of us at this point.” He thought for a moment. “When I was flying in, I saw a maze of gas tanks at the rear of the helipad. Go there. I’ll leave you transportation. I’ll get you one of our uniforms, as well.”

As if all we needed was a jeep and a new plan. “You’re asking me to go AWOL.” To hide out in an enemy camp. To seek out a murdered soul. To spy on a top-secret project.”

He stood tall, unapologetic. “I am.”

“You’re not worried about me?” Galen would never let me take this kind of a risk.

“You’re not a kid anymore,” Mark said. “You’re a strong, smart woman. I need you on my side.”

He didn’t say it, but I knew. He wanted me as an equal.

I glanced up at him. “You think it’s that important?”

“I know it is,” he said with utter conviction. No sugarcoating it, no backing down. He was a soldier, the same as if he carried a sword into battle.

“Then I’ll do it.” I’d been in the clinic for two weeks straight. I could take a few days off. “Give me a few hours to pack. I’ll be at the helipad when the suns set.”