Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
ARABELLA
“This is…I don’t really have a word for what this is,” I whispered, my gaze surveying the landscape in absolute awe.
Not only at what I was seeing but the fact that I’d traveled across the ocean, to a completely different country, in less than twenty-four hours.
I think what shocked me more than having done it, though, was the fact that I was doing it.
For so long I had never left the institute, mostly content to stay nestled in Northern Michigan, but in the past two weeks, I had traveled to so many unique places.
South Africa, specifically Cape Town, promised to be the most interesting by far.
From where we stood at the harbor, waiting for our charter, I had a perfect view of the city, which wound around the slopes of the massive mountain that appeared to overshadow the rest of the landscape. The mid-day sunshine was casting shadows, and palm trees were swaying with the coastal breeze.
I’d never been so glad to have packed a sundress. The light pink material was covered in deep purple hearts that matched my combat boots. It wasn’t as elegant as I usually dressed, but it felt good to have my skin exposed to the sun and the breeze rushing through my hair.
Plus, my mates, particularly Ashur and Amun, kept looking at my bare legs, and it made my skin prickle with excitement.
The latter was standing right behind me, his hand wrapped around my hip as I watched my men interact with the humans.
I’d already tried to intervene as they spoke to the rental agent, but Ashur had trapped me here.
I know—so upsetting, right? Unfortunately, not everyone was out here to watch the spectacle of Saint trying to act like chartering the boat we did was ‘normal.’
Damian and a few of my less ‘human’ looking mates were still in the dark SUV we’d rented, not wanting to attract too much attention. Although with how busy the harbor was, literally no one was paying attention to us anyway.
“It’s beautiful and vibrant,” Ashur said, his voice light but filled with a serious note that made me know he’d put in some thought about how he wanted to describe it. I nodded in agreement before smiling at Blackwell as he walked over, already shaking his head.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Saint is being an idiot,” Blackwell noted, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear in an almost subconscious movement.
I arched a brow in confusion and leaned over, adjusting my sunglasses as they slid down my nose.
At the institute I hadn’t needed to wear my glasses at all, so it was odd being back to wearing them again.
Whatever argument or debate that had been taking place was apparently over, as Saint and Razar joined us, leaving Zain to sign some paperwork.
Already in the distance I could see the gorgeous white ship making its way into the harbor from wherever it had been stored.
Obviously, I knew it was a yacht, but calling it that felt a bit over the top.
It was obvious that ‘subtle’ hadn’t been part of this plan at all.
“I’m excited; I’ve never been sailing,” I said softly, knowing that it was probably a similar case for many of my nightmares. Almost all their missions had been stateside, and the locations that weren’t had usually been reached by jet, not boat.
“I think some humans can get seasick,” Ashur murmured, sounding concerned.
“Really?” Razar looked at him with wide eyes. “Maybe this isn’t—”
“I’ll be fine.” I smiled as Saint chuckled softly, catching on to where Razar’s thoughts had gone.
“It’s a fairly large boat, so she probably won’t feel the motion as much.
Plus, it looks calm out there,” Blackwell said, but his eyes were shaded with worry.
Now probably wasn’t the time to mention I’d been feeling a bit off since getting on the jet.
Nothing crazy, but a small headache, and the back of my neck would randomly get super warm.
I assumed it was from traveling and a lack of sleep.
So yeah, totally not mentioning it to them.
“I will be totally fine,” I said. “I never get sick to my stomach; what are the chances of it happening now?”
Apparently the chances were high.
From the moment we left the harbor, I started to feel queasy.
I would have claimed it was because of being on the water, but I didn’t think seasickness usually came with dizziness.
Not that I was going to say that out loud.
As far as my nightmares were aware, I was happily lounging out on the back deck as we cruised to our destination.
Something that was fairly easy to fake by keeping my eyes closed and listening to my mates talk about our plan once we got there.
We didn’t have a map of the island, which was a snag, but there was some basic protocol that we would follow.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t take the normal joy that I did in planning logistics because I was so damn sick.
I groaned quietly as my stomach turned again and bile rose up in my throat.
My eyes snapped open, and I tried to focus on my surroundings.
The boat was beautiful, the lacquered wood and modern white furniture accenting our surroundings instead of drawing from them.
Unlike normal for a boat this size, there was no crew, only a captain who was being paid a ridiculous amount of money to not ask questions.
I just wondered if he would stick around to give us a ride back…
“How bad?” Cy asked, appearing next to me, his lips brushing over my hand and speaking in a near whisper.
“How bad what?” I asked, swallowing down the thick sensation in my throat.
“How sick are you?”
I blinked, staring at him and wondering if I had it in me to lie. I didn’t, and he knew it. His eyes were nearly hypnotic as I drew my lip in with my teeth and considered just what I should say. While they weren’t actively listening right now, I knew that my nightmares always had ears on me.
“Not that bad, just a bit dizzy and nauseous,” I admitted, inhaling as I took a sip from a glass of ice cold water nearby.
“And it started once you were on the boat?” Cy continued to brush his lips against my hand, distracting me.
Not enough to stop the small amount of bile that rose up in my throat, though.
“Sort of. I’ve been feeling off since getting on the jet.” I let out a long sigh, knowing that it was only a matter of time until—
“You’re not feeling well?” Razar appeared on the chair next to me and reached a hand to my face, his eyes filled with panic.
“It’s probably just a little cold or something,” I said as Cy brushed his lips against my hand for a third time.
“Or something,” he murmured, almost to himself. I would have asked what he thought it was, but Razar was distracting me with his cuteness as he started to feel my forehead. Well, it was cute until he started trying to order people around.
“Damian, can you grab her something to eat—”
“No!” I turned sharply to look at the man standing with Blackwell right behind the chair, both of them watching me with concern, the latter a bit more clinical as if trying to figure out how bad we were talking. “I do not want to eat right now.”
“Crackers? Toast?” Damian asked softly, then looked towards Zain. “Didn’t we read that helps seasickness?”
“Yes.” Zain confirmed, and at my quizzical look added, “We looked up an article while we were in the car just in case.”
So freaking adorable. I couldn’t help but smile a little bit.
“Seriously, I doubt they have that. I’m sure it will go away, it’s just a little bug or something. We’ve been traveling a lot and been around a ton of people. Think about it—this is the first time I’ve been exposed to a lot of human germs.”
“I got sick once,” Amun said, and Ashur offered him a curious look. Nightmares didn’t get sick, so I was struck by the oddity as well. “It was when I was human, though. It was horrible. Human illnesses are horrible.”
I nodded in agreement. “But most are also totally minor. I’m sure I’ll be over it in no time—”
“You don’t have to reassure all of them just because they can’t control their reactions,” Saint said, approaching with a bag of crackers and some water.
Deciding to stand up and get some air, I narrowly avoided the stabilizing hand Razar tried to insist I needed and took the bag before walking towards the deck.
I heard them talking behind me, and I tried to fight the urge to comfort them again.
Saint wasn’t wrong in a way, but I also really didn’t think it was cause for concern.
Just to humor them, I bit into a cracker and swallowed it down.
I instantly knew it was a mistake. Without prelude, I leaned over the side of the boat and emptied my stomach of everything from the past twenty-four hours.
My head pounded as I puked not once but four times, my throat burning.
I could feel my men panicking around me, someone’s hand holding my hair back as I groaned, leaning against the rail.
Maybe they were right. Maybe it was something to worry about.
Yet as I laid with my head against the bar, just in case I was going to be sick again, I found myself feeling oddly better.
Like whatever I’d needed to get out of my system was purged.
The headache had even faded, leaving me with a feeling of relief.
Although my throat still hurt terribly, and now I had the taste of bile in my mouth, which was totally gross.
“We should call in a doctor or go back to land to see one,” Zain suggested softly.
“We can tell him to turn around,” Blackwell agreed, his hand running up my back.
“She’s feeling better,” Amun said, silencing everyone. “I can tell she’s not as uncomfortable.”
“He’s right,” I murmured, further deflating against the rail. “I just need to brush my teeth and take a shower. Now it’s only my throat that hurts; everything else feels perfect.”
“Really?” Razar asked, his voice edged in caution. Cy appeared to my right, examining my face.
“Really.” I nodded.
Then I was picked up and lifted into Saint’s arms. I blinked in surprise but tucked myself against him, noticing that the man was unusually quiet.
I couldn’t see his expression, but when we walked below deck, I realized that most of the others weren’t following—which would have been odd if I hadn’t clued into Saint’s magic.
It was super tense—like more tense than ever.
“Saint?” I whispered.
His grip tightened on me but he didn’t say anything as we entered what appeared to be a bedroom, passing into the adjoining bathroom. I was a bit wide-eyed as he set me on the bathroom counter, going back into the bedroom and pulling my cosmetic bag from the suitcase on the bed.
Silently, he returned to the bathroom and took out my toothbrush, putting toothpaste on it and handing it to me. Only then did he meet my gaze, and I felt momentarily breathless by the concern there.
“Saint?” I said gently. “I thought when you said I didn’t need to comfort them that you weren’t concerned—”
“I’ve never seen you get sick before,” Saint explained, his eyes flashing with darkness. “I’ve seen a lot of sickness, flower, but I have never seen you get sick. It makes me…I don’t know what it makes me.”
“You mean sick people who have passed away?” I hazarded a guess.
He nodded, his eyes flashing with what almost appeared as momentary remorse, making my heart squeeze. Whenever Saint talked about death in a cavalier, violent fashion, it was easy to look past what it was that Saint actually had to do.
Saint was the end game for everyone. Even if he wasn’t the specific reaper who collected a soul, it all came back to him. Which meant that every person that was sick or wronged…all of them would affect him in some way.
“Brush your teeth,” he said, not continuing his story until I’d begun. “I receive every single memory and emotion from those who die. I don’t do it consciously, but I can reach for it easily. It’s all right there.”
I thought on his words as I rinsed my mouth, that one simple action making me feel far better. Putting my toothbrush down, I turned to him and spoke softly. “That has to be a lot, Saint. That has to be really heavy.”
“It is—well it was, before I found you,” Saint admitted, pressing his forehead to mine. “It was harder to block it all out when I was wandering aimlessly. You gave me direction, flower. You gave me everything.”
“Saint,” I whispered, feeling a bit breathless by how serious he was being.
“Which is why I have such a strong reaction to seeing you sick,” Saint continued. “I know it’s unavoidable—sis metas are still human, to an extent, so you are bound to get sick—but this is different.”
“Why?” I asked, thinking back to when I’d been sick before. It hadn’t happened often. In fact, I could count the times I remembered on one hand, but I’d had cramps and stuff before, so why did this affect him so much?
“I don’t know how to explain it,” he murmured. He looked torn and confused, but he also looked like he wasn’t saying everything he wanted to.
Deciding not to push it, I looked towards the shower and offered him a small smile. “How about we take a shower and think on it?”
Saint’s gaze instantly lightened to a pure hot silver as he offered me a small, amused smile. “Are you trying to get me naked, flower?”
“Maybe.” My cheeks flushed as he groaned, running a finger along my cheek before sighing.
“As much as I love that idea, I need to go assure the others you are fine,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Hop in there. I’ll be right back.”
And he was gone.
Something was totally up with him, and it had me a little worried. He wasn’t telling me everything on his mind, which was a first for Saint.
The man said whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Which was why I wasn’t going to push it right now. He would tell me eventually.
Right?