Chapter 11
ELEVEN
“How did you get injured here ?” I ask, scandalized, as I stare at Mine’s stomach that is now sporting quite the gash. It’s so low down his abdomen that he’s had to undo his pants for me to get a good look at it.
“The belt cut into me when we were jolted in the air,” he answers casually.
“This looks like a knife injury,” I point out.
“And you know that…how?” He smiles, his eyes dropping to my now blemish-free arm. I cover it, but he already saw that my wound has healed. What could I possibly make up to account for that?
On that note, why isn’t he asking me why my arm is suddenly healed when just last night it was bleeding buckets?
“I’m a nurse,” I grumble.
“You’re such a good nurse, tiny darling,” he drawls. “Good job.”
“I hope you’re not making fun of me.”
“Me? Never! The moment I got hurt, I knew I would be safe in your caring hands.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
Why does it seem that everything he says has a double meaning?
He pulls his pants lower, but the moment I see the line of his drawers, I stop him.
“That’s enough. I can see it just fine like this.”
“As you wish,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.
I grab some iodine and dab it all over the surface of his wound. It’s not too deep, so it will not require stitching. But I do my best to clean it and then I apply a bandage on top of it.
“Where’s the whiskey? I need whiskey!” Holloway shouts from the other side of the infirmary.
I glance back at him, noting that the greed demon is coiled even tighter around him than before.
“More. Need more,” the demon whispers in a low, gravelly voice.
“Bring me the whiskey!” Holloway then cries out.
A nurse rushes in, carrying a bottle of whiskey, and hands it to him.
Is that…normal? To just give a patient whiskey?
Holloway grabs the bottle from her and, without a word, brings it to his lips and gulps down greedily. He’s drinking at such an alarming speed that both the nurse and the doctor have to wrestle the bottle away from him. I roll my eyes. Why give it to him in the first place?
“More. Get more,” the demon whispers. In turn, Holloway cries out for more, wildly moving his limbs around and throwing a tantrum.
As I return my attention to Mine, I note that he’s also watching that exchange with interest.
“When did that behavior start?” I ask absentmindedly.
“When we entered the German territory,” he mentions, pursing his lips. “He started behaving oddly then. It’s why we caught so much flak. He kept giving me the wrong coordinates.”
From any other person, I would have taken that as an attempt at an excuse. But Mine doesn’t seem like the type to blame someone else for his failures. In fact, his tone is more that of a worried friend than someone looking for an easy way out.
Holloway has now pushed the nurse to the ground while the doctor tries to restrain him.
I gasp and swivel to go help.
Mine grabs my hand and stops me.
“Don’t,” he mutters. “You’ll get hurt.”
I shake my head.
“He’ll only get stronger,” I whisper.
If the greed demon attached itself to him during the mission, then it’s only a matter of time before it gains more strength.
As the struggle between Holloway, the doctor, and now a few other nurses continues, the demon slowly shifts on his shoulder, the shadows becoming more opaque until the demon gains a shape. It turns into a small red humanoid reminiscent of a dwarf. Its claws are sunk deep into Holloway’s chest, and as it feeds on the chaos, its eyes shimmer and turn a silvery color.
I may not be too familiar with sin demons, but from what I remember from my school days, the more sins they consume, the stronger they become, and just like regular demons, that is reflected in their appearance. After the sin demon has consumed enough sinful energy from the mortal it latched onto, it will be able to control not just one human, but multiple at the same time.
If that is the case, then…
I gulp down as a sliver of fear goes down my spine. Not only is Holloway in mortal danger as the demon becomes more greedy, but if it absorbs enough sinful energy, it will most likely be strong enough to tap into the hidden greed of everyone at the base.
No one will be safe from it.
If I let it run amok, it will turn the entire base into a cornucopia of greed.
“Let them deal with Holloway. You’re treating me now,” Mine says.
“But—”
As both Mine and I watch the fight unfold, the greed demon suddenly turns and glares at me.
“What are you looking at, you ugly female? This is mine. Mine. Mine. Mine,” the demon shouts, his tendrils swirling aggressively around Holloway, almost as if it was having a tantrum.
My mouth drops open in shock.
I blink.
Holloway is trying to grab onto the whiskey bottle with the demon encouraging him loudly.
“Nasty demon,” I mutter under my breath.
“Ugly female!” the demon retorts. His big eyes narrow at me and he opens his mouth to stick out a black, nasty-looking tongue.
Ew.
“You can’t talk like that,” Mine adds in a tight voice. I glance at him. Did he hear me cursing the demon? But then he continues, “If you insult Minnie again, I will wash your mouth with soap. At least then it won’t emit so many noxious fumes.” His nose wrinkles in disgust.
The demon shrieks.
“I will end you! Puny human! You dare to speak to me like that? I will cut you up and feast on your entrails. Both yours and that ugly female of yours. Just you wait. The moment I have enough strength, I will slaughter you both,” the demon snarls.
Mine rolls his eyes.
I am too shocked to react.
Did… Did Mine just talk to the demon?
Can he see it? Hear it?
I slowly turn to Mine, my eyes widening with horror.
Because if he did, then there’s only one explanation for it.
He’s dying.
“Oh, Mine,” I murmur in a low, sad voice.
He frowns when he sees my baleful expression.
Without a word, I rip his shirt off. Buttons fly everywhere. His eyes widen, but he doesn’t try to stop me, not even when I tear at his white cotton undershirt.
“Where is it?” I ask in a crazed voice.
Time is of the essence.
Maybe I can still save him if I can find the injury. There must be an injury.
Humans can only see the spiritual world if they are on the brink of death—or, in some rare cases, if they have unusually high spiritual energy. But I met Mine before I was stripped of my powers, and I did not detect anything out of the ordinary then.
So that only leaves the first option.
He must be mortally wounded.
“What?” Mine asks, his brows furrowed.
“Your wound. Where is it? I must find it, Mine. I must?—”
“Minnie, what wound?” he repeats. His hands cover mine and he stops my erratic movements.
“You’re hurt. You’re dying. I must save you. I must, Mine,” I continue on a ragged breath.
My heart is beating loudly in my ears, so much so every other sound dims until the only thing that surrounds me is the deafening sound of my incompetence and the acrid taste of my own fear.
I shouldn’t even be attempting to save him when saving humans is what got me in trouble in the first place. If it is his fate to die in the next moments, then I should step back and let fate run its course.
Except I cannot stop myself.
For some strange reason, all sense has fled my body until this ineffable urgency is all that’s left behind.
“Minnie, what are you saying?”
“Show me where it hurts. I promise I’ll make it better,” I add as I swipe my hands all over his naked chest. His skin is smooth and warm, and a slight current of electricity travels from the surface of his skin to the tips of my fingers, making me startle. I swallow, finding it hard to concentrate.
But I must.
I must save him.
There are no injuries to his upper chest. No new ones at least. There are old scars that I cursorily note but cannot dwell on at this moment. Going lower, I glance again at the wound I’ve just bandaged, trying to think if I missed anything.
Was it infected? Was there something wrong with it that I did not notice?
It was quite deep, but I cleaned it properly. Even if I’m not the best nurse, I’m certain I did a proper job. Mine was watching me closely, too, and he would have said something if I messed up. Right…?
But if it’s not that wound either then…
There must be something else.
He said the seat belt had cut him when the plane had been hit. Maybe he has some injuries on his lower body.
Though I am nervous to do it, I grab onto the sides of his trousers and pull them down his hips.
“Minnie!” Mine calls my name—well, the name he decided is now mine. “What are you doing?”
“You’re hurt,” I whisper. “There must be some other injury I can’t see. Does it hurt here?” I ask as I pat his thighs.
I’ve seen what those cockpits look like and how the seat belts cross over the thighs, too. Maybe he got cut there? There is a rather important human artery in that region, although there is no bleeding that I can see.
My brows are knit together in confusion.
“What about here?” I press right under the wound I just bandaged. Maybe I missed something?
He whizzes and jerks against me. A shudder racks his body, his hips pushing involuntarily against my hand.
“Stop!” he exclaims. His hands are now firmly atop mine, holding me still. “Don’t move.”
“Are you in pain?” I ask, my worry getting the best of me.
He looks in pain.
His features are tightly drawn together, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
He releases a ragged sigh as he leans further into the mattress. His chest rises and falls.
“I am not hurt,” he finally replies. “There is no other wound than the one you’ve tended to,” he explains, though he doesn’t allow me to move. His grip on my hands is strong. He keeps my palms on top of the exposed skin right under the bandaged wound.
Skin against skin.
Warmth against warmth.
Ever since I’ve been stripped of my powers, I’ve found it hard to regulate my body temperature as I did before. In fact, it’s rather disconcerting how easily I can get cold and shivery. But his skin is hot to the touch—pleasantly so. It radiates pure heat, and though I am an ice deity, I prefer to roll around in warmth rather than in cold.
And seeing how the weather recently has taken a turn for the worse, I wouldn’t mind having some additional heat at night when it is the most chilly. Of course I can’t demand him to shed his skin so I can cover myself with it, though the idea does have merit.
Ah, if only he knew I am a goddess, one on a mission to defend his kind, too, he would probably offer me his skin himself, after prostrating himself at my feet and asking for forgiveness for all the instances in which he insulted me.
Mine clears his throat.
“I am not hurt,” he repeats. “You can let go.”
Although I did not pull his trousers all the way down, I can see the band of his underwear and a line of dark hair that goes down his lower belly until it hides within the confines of his underpants.
I flatten my palm against his skin, surprised to see how soft that hair is.
Males are interesting creatures. I wonder if male deities are built the same. Although… Seeing how the original mortals were created in the image of the Primordials, I assume most are rather similarly built.
As I contemplate the details of the male body, I note something shifting a bit lower. It’s a small twitch against the back of my forearm that is pressing against Mine’s trousers, but I cannot tell what it is.
I frown as I lean in to take a better look.
“Mine?”
“What, Minnie?” His voice is tense, harsh.
“Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“Quite,” he answers in a ragged voice.
“But…” I gulp down as my eyes take in the swollen lump at the front of his trousers. “You’re swollen. Did you hit yourself here?” I ask as I move my hand and point to the growing bulge.
Oh my! It’s growing so fast. I’ve never seen an injury swell up so rapidly.
My body tenses.
This must be it! There must be an infection somewhere in his trousers, and if I don’t drain the liquid, he might die of septic shock. I’ve read as much in that damn nursing book.
He’s staring at me wide-eyed. His mouth is ajar, and he’s at a loss for words.
I’m pretty sure it’s the pain.
“Don’t worry about it, Mine. I will take care of you,” I tell him resolutely. “I will tend to your injury and you’ll be as good as new. You’re not dying under my watch.” I nod to myself, proud of the coherent words that came out of my mouth when everything inside of me is a mass of uncertainty.
Grabbing onto the edge of his underpants, I pull them down to reveal more of that dark hair and the base of the lump.
My hands freeze.
That is…much bigger than I thought.
“Don’t worry, Mine,” I tell him again, wishing to assure him, though I am not in the least assured. “I can fix you.”
“Minnie,” he groans aloud. His hands are dangling at his sides, almost as if he has no more strength to move.
Poor Mine.
He cut his stomach and now he has a huge lump between his legs.
The base of the lump springs up from a thatch of black hair. Surprisingly, the skin is not red or yellow as I would have expected. It’s the same golden hue as the rest of him.
I purse my lips.
The head must be lower, and to offer him relief from this swollen bump, I must find the head filled with liquid and pop it.
As I pull lower on his underpants, my knuckles brush over the base of the lump. Mine’s hips jerk up and he balls his hands into fists.
“Mine? Are you all right?” I ask, fearing I might have hurt him.
“Please… Minnie…” he half groans half moans—from the unbearable pain, I am sure.
“I’ll take care of you, Mine. Look how swollen this lump is. If I don’t drain it, you’ll die,” I tell him gently.
“Oh, I’ll die all right. But it’s not from any lump, tiny darling,” he drawls, his eyes closed shut.
“Huh?”
“Stupid female,” the demon jibes from behind. His laughter echoes in the room.
I swivel and pin him with my gaze. For a moment, I forgot all about that nasty little demon—although now it’s quite a bit bigger. With everyone fighting Holloway and his greed-induced tantrums, the demon is growing stronger by the second.
Taking advantage of my momentary distraction, Mine pushes my hands aside and pulls up his trousers, then buttons them up. He shrugs on what’s left of his torn shirt and swings his long legs over the bed.
“No! Don’t move! I need to drain your lump!” I call out, following after him.
He strides forward, and in a few steps, he’s in front of Holloway—and the demon—who is currently wrestling with the doctor and three nurses.
“Move,” Mine commands them. His voice holds so much authority that the doctor and the nurses immediately comply, letting go of Holloway and moving out of Mine’s way.
“Say one more thing about her and I will personally send you back to hell,” Mine mutters harshly. Before I can blink, his fist flies, connecting with the ugly demon perched on Holloway’s shoulder.
More surprising? His fist actually hits the demon, making it sway from side to side as his form becomes distorted. Yet in a few moments, it’s back to his initial form. Its mouth opens on a loud, blaring shrill that only Mine and I can hear.
With an annoyed sigh, Mine punches him again, this time in the mouth, shutting the demon up—if only temporarily.
As a young deity, I can’t say I’ve seen too much in my lifetime. But not only have I never seen something like this, I’ve never heard of a mortal hitting an amorphous demon. Because though this greed demon might now have somewhat of a shape, he is still in his spiritual form—not strong enough to gain a physical form yet.
Mine’s knuckles purposefully skirt by Holloway’s face, hitting him in the temple. It’s not a harsh blow, but it’s enough to knock him out momentarily.
The doctor stares at him in awe.
“Thank you. He was out of control.”
Mine nods.
“I need your nurse to tend to me for the night. I trust that will not be an issue?”
“Erm…” The doctor glances at me. Then at Mine. I can tell he wants to say no since he will need a full staff, but for some reason, he cannot refuse Mine. “Not at all,” he eventually replies.
“Good. Cuff him to the bed and have a few soldiers guard him through the night,” Mine orders before he turns to me, grabs my hand, and pulls me out of the infirmary.
“You’re injured, Mine. We can’t just leave—” I protest.
He doesn’t answer, merely dragging me after him. I don’t know where he’s going. We walk past the cantina and some of the important military buildings. The sky has darkened and the chilly night air hits me in the face as we walk from one end of the base to the other. Shivers erupt all over the surface of my skin.
Damn it! I hate being this powerless.
Yet even with my rather average abilities, I could easily scream and demand he let go of me. People would hear, and someone would help me, no? But it is even more fascinating the fact that I have no inclination to do so. I am simply curious about him and what he has in mind. Especially now that I am quite certain he will not die—a fact that causes me an unnatural amount of joy.
He gives you donuts, Minnie!
He does, doesn’t he? That is a fine quality in a human. He might be insulting sometimes and there might be a gap in our understanding of the English language, but his heart is in the right place.
Why are you thinking of his heart, Minnie?
I shake myself. Although his heart is housed in a rather nice and muscular chest and…
Bad Minnie, bad!
All right, so he might be a good-looking specimen. But he is still human and far below me. This is something I should keep in mind at all times. But that is why curiosity is eating at me regarding Mine and the greed demon.
How had Mine been able to see it? Talk to it? Hit it?
Not only is that shocking, but it is quite impressive, too.
After what feels like forever, Mine finally stops in front of a tent-like structure. Stabbing a key into the lock at the door, he opens it and pulls me inside.
The interior is almost bare save for a one-person bed next to a small table. In the back, there is a study desk with a myriad of papers on top of it. Two changes of clothes hang from a railing. Oh, and there’s one of those radio contraptions, too, sequestered in a dark corner.
“You want me to treat you here?” I blink in shock. “Through the night?”
I might be curious about him, but this is…unseemly.
We’re alone, in a secluded space. It doesn’t matter if it’s technically both his office and his bedroom. What’s important is that I am alone with a male when I am at my most vulnerable.
“There is no need to treat me,” he adds with a sigh. “I told you there’s nothing wrong with me.”
Turning on a couple of lamps, he lets me gaze upon his body.
I study him from head to toe, noting that the bulging lump from before is no longer there.
W-what?
I hurry to his side and fall to my knees to get a better look.
“But how?” I ask, looking up at him. I pat the front of his trousers, amazed to find the lump completely gone!
Mine audibly gulps and averts his gaze.
“I told you it was nothing,” he mutters, grabbing onto my shoulders and pulling me up.
“But… How did you see the demon then?” I whisper, more confused than ever. “Only dying people can see them…”
Mine is the opposite of that. He is full of vigor—not at all like someone at death’s door. In fact, I should probably not be noticing that vigor since it’s making me uncomfortably warm and causing my tummy to ache for some reason.
“Does that mean you’re dying too?”
“N-no. That’s… I mean,” I stammer. “I’m different.”
“Different how?” he asks as he grabs a suitcase and props it on the bed. He opens it and fishes out a clean shirt, which he puts on.
I let out an unconscious sigh of relief. I’m glad I don’t have to stare at his chest anymore. It was quite…distracting.
“You first. How come you could see that demon?” I counter.
I’m not about to reveal all my secrets to someone I don’t trust—a human nonetheless. It’s forbidden for my kind to get involved in humans’ lives and that includes revealing my divine status. Although… I am decidedly not divine in this moment. I wonder if the rules still apply to me if I have no powers.
He chuckles.
“Tea?” He motions to a kettle on his desk. The tea is probably long cold.
“Stop prevaricating,” I grumble.
He rummages through a few boxes under his desk, thereby ignoring me.
“Mine? I’m talking to you,” I tell him, tapping my foot against the floor impatiently. It’s late and it’s getting increasingly colder. His flimsy tent does little to keep the chill out.
I let out a shudder, which he notices.
“You’re cold,” he states, straightening his back and letting his gaze roam over my body.
I’m only wearing my nursing uniform and it’s made out of a very thin cotton. I suppose these British don’t have the funds to make something thicker considering the government can barely feed its own people.
“I’m fine.”
“No. You are not,” he says.
He goes back to his boxes, and the first thing he takes out is a small wooden container. He places it on the desk and returns to his search. After a few more moments, he takes out a woolen sweater. Getting to his feet, he comes to my side and, without a word, he puts the sweater on me.
I gasp in surprise. But it’s too late. He’s already pulled it over my head and down my body, going as far as to reach inside and grab my arms so they can go through the sleeves.
Given our size differences, his sweater is like a dress on me. But it’s a thick, warm dress, the wool soft and smooth—a high-quality blend.
I let out a sigh of contentment. How can I tell him off when this feels so good? So warm, so comfortable?
“Better?” he asks, his lips quirked up in a smile.
“So much better.”
“Good,” he purrs.
His voice is deep and calm, and now that I no longer have to mind my trembling limbs, I am back to noticing things about him. Like how his smooth voice travels all the way to my belly in a way that I do not think is biologically possible. Or how his scent envelops me now that I’m wrapped in his sweater.
Ugh! Stop this, Minerva!
“Back to the demons,” I state firmly as I force those thoughts out of my mind.
He shrugs. “I’ve always been able to see them.”
He’s in front of me now. Although he’s put on a shirt, his impressive physique is unmistakable. His arms are thick and bulging with muscles.
“What do you mean?” I croak. Damn him and his perfectly sculpted body. As if it wasn’t enough that I had to not only stare at those hard and defined abdominals just moments ago, but I also had to touch them when I was treating his cut and…
I squeeze my eyes shut. This is a serious conversation. I must focus!
“I can’t tell you how it happened, when it started, or why, since I do not know it myself,” he states casually.
“When you say you’ve always been able to see them, you mean…”
“Since I was a child,” he confirms.
I nod pensively—and if I’m honest with myself, a little relieved. It means he’s not on the brink of death. But if that is not the case, then he must have some strong spiritual energy that allows him to see beyond the physical realm.
That is…interesting.
I have heard of such mortals, but since I have not spent much time with his kind, I’ve never met one before.
“You hit the demon,” I add. “You can touch them in their spiritual form?”
“I can touch ghosts, too.” He smiles.
“Really?”
Ghosts… I suppose he means mortal souls.
I’ve never heard of another mortal able to do that. Alas, I don’t consider myself to be an encyclopedia of all the abnormalities present in the human world. Perhaps it is possible and he is telling the truth.
On the bright side, this ability of his might come in handy in vanquishing the greed demon.
“I haven’t seen a demon like that before, though. One that can attach itself to the body without possessing the host.”
“That is a greed demon. They’re a different breed and much more dangerous. Your friend is in danger,” I tell him.
“I gathered that much. The demon attached itself to him while we were over Germany. One moment we were hit by flak, the next I see something swirl around Holloway. I didn’t realize what it was until he got off the plane and the demon was clearly visible.” He grimaces. “Is Holloway going to die?”
“The demon is growing stronger. If we don’t get rid of it, it won’t be just your friend who will suffer, but the whole base,” I explain. “When it’s strong enough, it will be able to tap into everyone’s greed and feed on it.”
He curses under his breath.
“How do you know all of this?”
“Erm…”
“A greed demon. That’s very specific information.”
“That’s because…” I trail off.
I press my lips together as I debate what to tell him. On the one hand, I don’t want to give away my identity, especially since I haven’t known him that long to trust him implicitly. But on the other hand, he’s the only other person I’ve met who can see the spiritual world. Without my powers, I will need all the help I can get if I am to vanquish this demon and send it back to the Source.
Yet there’s still a seed of doubt inside me. What if I get in more trouble for telling him? Will he even believe me? It’s not as if I have a way to prove to him I’m telling the truth considering I am powerless.
“Come, sit here,” Mine suddenly says, startling me from my thoughts.
He takes my hand and leads me to the bed, urging me to sit down.
“May I?” he asks.
I frown. He nods to my legs. Unsure of what he means, I just nod.
He undoes my shoes first. Then he gently takes my legs and places them on the bed. He gathers the woolen blanket and covers my lower body, making sure there’s not one inch that’s exposed to the cold.
I blink.
That is…quite nice of him.
Mine goes back to his desk and picks up the wooden box from before. Returning to my side, he hands it to me.
“What is it?”
“Open it,” he urges with a smile.
I pull the wooden top off it and I’m surprised to see a myriad of colorful little balls. They’re the size of pearls, so my first thought is that perhaps they’re jewels.
“Try it.”
“What do you mean? What is it?”
“We call it M&M’s,” he mentions, taking one of those small balls and slipping it past my lips. I don’t even get to act incensed at his much too familiar gesture because the sweet taste of chocolate hits my tongue. Flavor bursts in my mouth and a low moan escapes me.
“Oh my, this is so good!” I exclaim, hurrying to grab more of these magical balls he calls M&M’s.
He chuckles.
“You can have the entire box.
My eyes widen. “I can?”
He nods.
I munch on a couple more chocolaty balls as I regard him. His lips are curled up in a smile as he gazes at me, almost as if he can derive the same pleasure just from watching me eat.
And this is certainly even better than donuts. So much sweeter and flavorful. Where did he even get them? Everything is so restricted with the war and the rations… And the fact that he gave them all to me.
I gulp down, warmth spreading inside of me. And it’s not from the chocolates, though they make me giddy in a different way. No, it’s a different type of warmth, one that starts from the depths of my stomach and travels up, enveloping me entirely. It only gets more potent as I stare into his green eyes. Why, I have no idea. But I’ve always had good instincts. And this time…my instincts are telling me to trust him.
I’ll probably regret my decision in the future. But how can someone so nice be dangerous? How can someone who constantly gives me sweets be a bad person/ Besides, with his ability to see the spiritual world, he can help me vanquish that greed demon. I cannot do it alone.
Yes, I nod, satisfied. Perhaps these are all excuses I create for myself. But at the moment, these excuses are my reality. And perhaps I don’t want to look further than that.
“I’m not human,” I tell him as I swallow the last bit of chocolate.
His brows rise in question.
“Not…human?”
“I’m an ice deity who hunts demons,” I explain, and once I start talking, everything comes out rather easily. I tell him all about who I am and where I come from, as well as what my mission is in Anthropa at this time. He listens intently, never once interrupting me. Of course I have to mention his role in what led to me losing my powers, and I make sure to berate him for that. After I tell him everything—perhaps more than I should have—I press my lips together and stare at him, waiting for his reaction.
For moments on end, he just stares at me.
His eyes bore a hole into me as the silence between us stretches into an uncomfortable eternity.
His lips tremble. I prepare myself for his reply.
But just as he opens his mouth to speak, the only sound that comes out is a dark, rich laughter.
“A goddess.” He chuckles. “Sure, tiny darling.”
He…doesn’t believe me?