Epilogue
Twisting in the sheets, trying to escape the faceless enemy stalking closer, the one who was here to take my life, I tried to rise and fight.
I remained weak and at his feet. I tried to yell for help from my fellow Sentinels, but my voice didn’t work.
Just as the shadowy figure loomed over me and I saw the killing blow about to fall, he suddenly disappeared.
His place was taken by someone I much preferred to see.
The woman I’d been having dreams about for weeks.
The one who made me thrilled to be male.
Our encounters had become very heated, but I still had no clue who she was. I tried to see if she had fangs like me, but I never saw them. Her eyes didn’t glow red, either. If she were a shifter, there was no indication of which type. Somehow, I knew she wasn’t human. How I did, I didn’t know.
She smiled at me before she reached up to let her hair down and to remove her clothing.
Yeah, this was much better—my sexy, mysterious dream lover.
The one I wished was real. She had taken her blouse off and was reaching to unhook her bra when a fiery pain shot through the left side of my neck and my left wrist. It was so painful that it brought me out of a deep sleep and fully awake within a moment.
I shouted as the pain intensified. I had to hold myself rigid and let it fade away on its own.
When it finally let me free of its claws, I opened my eyes.
It was still dark outside. Taking it slow, I reached over and turned on the bedside lamp.
I tossed back my covers and looked first at my wrist. Though why I bothered, I didn’t know.
The wound from the vamp I fought over two months ago was clearly visible.
There should be no outward sign of it. Though it wasn’t open, the ragged tear was red, and the scarring raised.
It throbbed to the beat of my heart. Lifting my good hand, I touched my neck, where the other wound was. It was hot to the touch and puffy, too.
I hated that I was scared. I should’ve healed up entirely within a week. Instead, it took weeks for the wounds to close. And even though cultures showed no signs of bacterial infection, the visible scarring and pain persisted.
My friends all saw the visible signs and worried. Galen, our personal physician, was at a loss as to why they hadn’t disappeared. I didn’t tell any of them about the pain. I was afraid to admit it aloud, but I knew what it meant.
When a vampire took this long to heal, or I should say, not heal, there was only one reason. I was dying. The reason didn’t matter. The outcome was the factor. The question was, how long until it happened?
Fuck! I wasn’t ready to die! There was still so much more I wanted to do.
I was turning six hundred and ninety-seven this year.
I should have over thirteen hundred years or more to live, assuming I wasn’t killed by something.
I hadn’t accomplished my ultimate dream—a mate and children.
And with three of my fellow Sentinels having found their fated mates in less than a year, I had high hopes.
Or I did until that fight in Phoenix, where I tangled with another vamp and ended up like this.
Knowing I’d never go back to sleep, I got out of bed.
I suppressed the groan of pain. Walking to my bathroom, I gave myself a lecture.
You will continue to do your job both as a paramedic and a Sentinel.
You will protect your friends from what is happening to you.
They don’t need the stress of knowing you’re dying.
Keep going until you fall over dead. Don’t think about what you won’t ever have.
And stop wishing the mystery woman from your dreams was real and here in Needles.
After giving myself this rousing pep talk, I turned on the shower. Without waiting for the water to get warm, I stepped under the cold spray and got my day started. It was to be another agonizing one.
The End Until Nico’s Tomorrow, Book 4 of the Sentinels of Apollo