Chapter 30 Dante
Dante
Blinding white lights sear my retinas as I regain consciousness.
Throbbing pain radiates from my shoulder and my hip.
I don't see Melody—shit, I don't see anything.
Just white light. No. No, I can't be dead.
This can't be the afterlife. There's no universe or reality where I end up in heaven, and the fact that I'm not currently bursting into flames leads me to believe… .
I'm alive.
"Stay still, please," an unfamiliar male voice commands.
I grit my teeth and force my way up, sitting on—a gurney.
A hospital bed. My heart sinks to the soles of my feet.
Was that all a dream? It was so vivid, there's no way.
I can't still be in the prison. I can't be in the rural hospital.
I can't. I can't. Fear coils around my lungs, squeezing the breath from me.
"Oh, my god, babe!" Melody squeals, tackling me. I suck in a breath at the impact of her soft body against mine. She's heaven, of course, but everything hurts. "Shit, sorry, oh—oh, god. Dante, baby, talk to me. Please. Please? I missed you. I missed you so fucking much."
"How long was I out?" I ask, rubbing my eyes with one hand and curling my fingers around the back of her neck with the other.
"Um, only a few hours." She peppers my cheek and neck with kisses. "But you scared me so bad—I thought I was gonna lose you. I thought… I thought you lost too much blood."
"He almost did," the unfamiliar voice chimes in. Finally taking a look at the voice's owner, he's tall with blond hair. The standard white coat and blue scrubs don't really hide the military—or possibly ex-military—build. It also doesn't change the way he holds himself.
"How?" I ask with a slight cough, wincing as the movement sends another wave of pain through my extremities.
"You got shot, idiot." Melnyk wheezes out a laugh. "Twice, looks like. Did you know your blood type is AB negative?"
"Why in the absolute fuck would I need to know that?"
"In case you get shot, you fucking walnut," Helena cackles. "Good to see you back, though. I was afraid Melody would go all beast mode and burn down the planet."
Melody looks down at her lap with a cheeky grin. "I probably would."
"Really, love?" I reach for her hand, and she excitedly grabs it. "You'd burn the world for me?"
"Is that a real question? Of course, I would. I'll burn it all down and bathe in blood if you get mildly inconvenienced." My delicious wife scoffs and tosses her hair over her shoulder.
"I don't deserve you, Melody. I don't deserve you, but I'll take you anyway. I'll take you and keep you. I'll shower you with diamonds. I'll watch you every second of every day. Do you remember when I said you could take the money and walk away?"
"Yes," she whispers breathlessly.
"Fuck that. Fuck all of that. You're never walking away from me, love."
Her pupils dilate, and I watch a shiver run down her spine.
Good. I crack a self-satisfied smile. Even wounded, I can still light a fire in her.
Speaking of wounds, I'm going to need another shot of pain meds and soon.
The throbbing builds to a blazing roar, and I don't want to let go of her. I don't want to let go of my wife.
The heart monitor beside me beeps rapidly, and the world comes back to clarity.
Right. I'm in a hospital bed in The Eligos's compound.
Being poked and prodded by trained medical professionals.
I recently had two bullets in me. I should probably not bend my wife over the nearest flat surface.
I should not rip out my IVs and pound her into the floor.
Not yet, anyway.
"Calm down, Mr. Lyons," the doctor chides. He pushes a syringe of clear liquid into my IV. "The pain should be reduced soon."
I barely hear him. The relief is almost immediate, and it gives me the ability to really appreciate my wife.
I can't wait to spend as much time in bed with her as possible.
I want to run my hand over every dimple, every adorable, chubby roll, every flyaway hair.
I want to bury my face in her neck. I want to sink my teeth into her soft flesh. I want to grab on and never let go.
After promising Dr. MacAvoy—the ex-military guy—that I would take it extremely easy, he let me go back to my room with Melody.
Construction crews are already working on the blast damage, patching and reinforcing the walls, but our bedroom is blissfully quiet.
I'm still sore, of course. But there was no lasting damage that they couldn't repair.
So, now all I have to do is rest. Which I hate.
But Ella is dead. The Seraph is in shambles—GoCon forces caught wind of the attack almost immediately, and the only Beacon left alive is in South Africa. Based on the intelligence report Elliott provided earlier, he may already be dead. Good riddance.
We can breathe. We can relax. We can pick up the pieces and recover. We can go home and prepare the house for two little hellspawn—oh, god, Marie is going to either have a heart attack or burst into joyous tears.
And my mother. I stifle a groan, turning it into a cough, but wince when I remember my gunshot wounds. Some battles don't have to be fought immediately. I'm very happy to put her on the back burner. She'll know her grandchildren—of course, she will.
But it will be on my terms. It will be on Melody's terms. It will be a decision that we make as a team. I will not allow my mother to fill our kids' minds with outdated and harmful ideals of what they should be.
"What are you thinking about?" Melody's soft voice pulls me from my silent contemplation.
"Just the future, love." I snake my hand over to hers, stroking her fingers. "We have one of those, you know."
"We do," she agrees. "Isn't that insane? I didn't… I mean, I had hope we would get out of everything, but I didn't know if it was possible."
She snuggles into my side, carefully avoiding my bandages. My arm doesn't hurt that bad, so I pull her in close and stroke her upper arm. The contented sigh she releases fills my heart with joy. I have her. I have my wife. We're safe.
A knock sounds at the door, and Elliott walks in before either of us responds.
"Jesus, Elliott! What if we were fucking?" Melody grumbles.
"I've heard you two having sex. Everyone in the building has. I would simply wait until the noises died down and come back later. But, since the hallways were blissfully silent, here I am." He holds out a tablet. "Call for you."
Melody's cheeks are about as red as a tomato. She gently lifts herself from my grasp and takes the tablet. The Eligos's scowling face fills the screen. She looks… less put together than she usually does. Her usual sleek bun is messy, and her makeup is smudged under one eye.
"Dantalion. Melody. I'd like to extend my deepest apologies—you were meant to be safe here. This was not supposed to happen." She huffs out an exasperated sigh. "My most trusted associates have been analyzing the situation, and it appears you were not the only Goetia with a mole."
"Who?" Melody sits up straight, narrowing her gaze.
"They've been dealt with." The Eligos waves a hand dismissively. "Please, rest assured. This will not happen again. I understand I have you to thank, Melody, for the dispatch of the Nephilim."
"Y—yeah," my wife stutters. "Uh, no problem."
"Eligos," I interrupt softly. "I always appreciate your professionalism, but please—are you alright?"
First, she looks infuriated at my question. Her brows furrow, and her lips twist into a scowl. Melody gently lays a hand on mine, peeking a furtive look at me. Just as I am about to apologize, The Eligos sighs.
"No. Yes. I'll be honest, Dante." She fiddles with something out of frame, then lifts a cigarette to her lips.
My eyebrows nearly disappear into my hairline as I watch her light up the smoke and inhale deeply.
She exhales a satisfied sigh and positions the cigarette between her fingers.
"This has been… difficult. I pride myself on being one step ahead—several steps, if possible.
I know you're the same. But—and I don't mean to offend you—I thought my processes and vetting were airtight.
I don't know how this person infiltrated my organization.
I'm working on it. This war between us and the Seraph is eons long, as you are well aware, and I'm glad it's over. "
"For now," I mumble.
"For now." She sucks in another drag. "I'm so fucking tired, Dante."
"When's the last time you had a vacation?" Melody chimes in.
"A—what? No." The Eligos shakes her head.
"Girl, yes. Let's do this. We'll tie up loose ends, and we'll go to Cancun. Or Tulum. Or Puerto Rico—honestly, wherever you want." Melody chuckles. "I'm game as long as there's a beach."
The Eligos's mouth drops open, and she nearly loses her cigarette. She makes a strangled noise, coughing a little, before shaking herself into a smooth recovery. "I'd like that, thank you."
My sweet love. She doesn't love easily. She doesn't trust easily.
But once you're in? You're in for life. I pity anyone who dares mutter a snide word about The Eligos now.
Melody might be my wife, but she's the most loyal and loving person I've ever met—with a murderous streak. God, I love that about her.
"May we help with anything?" I ask quietly.
"Hmm? No. Thank you for your patience and understanding, Dante. Melody, we'll be in touch." The Eligos nods, and the screen goes black.
"I'll take that, thank you." Elliott grabs the tablet back and sweeps out of the room. Not one for conversations, I see. Though if I'm not mistaken, his tone was a little more terse than usual. I wonder what that's about.
"Do you think she'll actually go on a vacation?" Melody asks, leaning back into the pillows with me.
"A year ago, I would have said no. But… she just called me Dante. She dropped the title. In all the years I've known her, she's never done that." I shake my head. "I think… I think she'll do it. I think it would be good for her—and for us."
Melody nods and traces her finger along the tattoos on my neck. Her touch is featherlight, and goosebumps erupt in its wake. God, if she'll just keep touching them, I'll keep getting them. Maybe her thumbprint anywhere I have room. Or something different… I smirk and turn to face her.
"What?" She yanks her hand back. "Did I touch somewhere it hurts?"
"Oh, no, love. Please keep touching me. I was just thinking that it might be time for me to add a little more ink."
"Yeah? What are you thinking?"
"Your bitemark."
She makes a strangled noise, looking at me with those big, brown eyes. "My bitemark?"
"Well, yes. You're mine, obviously, but you get to claim me, too." I reach over, cupping her cheek. "You'd just have to bite me hard enough to leave an outline."
"Can I fuck you yet?" she blurts out. "Sorry, I just… that's one of the hottest things you've ever said to me."
Laughter pours from me, and I have to hold myself back from pouncing on her like a lion. "Oh, love. You're so fucking perfect for me."
"You really think so? Even after all this?"
"Melody. Listen to me very carefully. You are perfect for me in every reality. You are the most beautiful and vicious woman I've ever met. Don't you ever doubt my love for you, do you hear me?"
She nods silently. God, I love when her eyes get so wide and hungry.
If this is what the first trimester of her pregnancy is like…
may all the old gods and the new have mercy on my soul.
I've heard that pregnant women experience a spike in their libido during the second trimester.
I may have to get electrolytes delivered in bulk.
I'd rather die than leave her unsatisfied. Happy wife, happy life.