Chapter 16
The bunker
Brir
Dune’s powerful strides slowed as we crossed into safer territory. His body trembled beneath us from the exertion. The bunker loomed ahead, a beacon of safety in the harsh wilderness.
I sighed in relief as the bunker came into sight, its steel door glinting in the moonlight. Artemis sat silent in front of me, his body shaking. I could feel his ragged breaths against my chest, his heart pounding in sync with mine.
His body sagged against mine, his breathless panting a silent testament to his exhaustion. Only my tight grip around his waist kept him upright on our mount.
“Dune,” I managed to wheeze out, each word a struggle as I tightened my grip on the reins. “Bunker.”
With a final burst of energy, our mount pushed forward.
At long last, Dune skidded to a halt outside the bunker, his sides heaving with effort. I swung one leg over and slid off his back, my knees almost buckling under me from the strain. With an arm around Artemis’s waist, I guided him down, too. The green blood stained his pants as it ran down his leg. His tail twitched against my leg, its barbs digging into my flesh, but I didn’t say anything. Artemis was holding onto whatever comfort he could get and I wanted to give it to him.
As I reached to open the bunker door, another wave of pain rolled over me, making me grit my teeth as I turned the handle and pulled the heavy door open. The familiar metallic smell of the bunker and the earthy scent of the moss that grew inside sent a chill of relief through me.
“Artemis, can you make it downstairs and open the downstairs door?” I asked, eyeing his injury. He nodded, but his face was pale. I had to trust he could get down the stairs. I needed to get Dune out of the harness.
Artemis’s tail unwound from my leg as he took a step forward. I watched as he limped down the stairs before I returned to Dune, trusting that he would follow my simple instructions.
I unhooked Dune from the cart but ignored the items still on it. I would come back for them after Artemis was settled. Dune didn’t need coaxing to go inside. He followed Artemis down the stairs. I was so thankful for the giant Lepot.
I slammed every lock into place after I got the door closed behind us. There was no way that those assholes had lived, but if they were here, there might be more around. I didn’t want anyone sneaking up on us.
Dune flopped onto the ground near the nest, his eyes not leaving Artemis. The room was already filling with the smell of Artemis’s blood, making my stomach turn violently.
Artemis sank into the makeshift bed, his hands trembling. I pulled out the file I had tucked in my pants, setting it down on the table before I crouched in front of him, my gaze locking with his.
“Artemis.” I reached up to tilt his face up towards me. His blue eyes were wide when he met my gaze. “You’re going to be okay.” I purposely kept my voice soft. I knew he wasn’t okay. Of course, he wasn’t okay. I couldn’t fix the shock, but the words just slipped out. I quickly washed my hands so I could work on Artemis’s wound before I grabbed the medical kit off the shelf before moving around Artemis. “I’m going to pull your pants off, Butterfly,” I worked my arms under him. Artemis tipped his hips up to help me.
As gently as I could, I pulled them off his body, exposing the wound on his leg. The bullet looked like it had gone through the fatty part of Artemis’s thigh.
“Lay back, Butterfly,” I pushed on his chest. Artemis laid back so I could work. Twisting his leg, I could see where the bullet entered the back of his thigh. The wound was smaller in the back. I could probably just stitch that closed. The front was a different matter. The wound had blasted through the front of his thigh, leaving a two-inch crater. “This is going to hurt, Butterfly. I have to make sure your leg bone isn’t broken.”
I grabbed a clean rag from the kit and balled it up. I pressed it against his lips. “Bite down,” I commanded him. The fear in his eyes broke my heart.
Artemis opened his mouth and bit down hard on the rag. Tears filled his eyes. I tore my gaze from his face and back to the wound. “I’m sorry, Artemis,” I apologized to him before I pushed my finger into the wound.
Artemis’s screams filled the air as I turned my hand to make sure I didn’t feel anything sharp. Bullets were stronger than bone, and if the bullet had shattered his femur, I would have to find a way to get Artemis to a healer. One that was several days away.
The wound felt soft and clean. I pulled my hand back from the wound. “Okay. I’m going to start to stitch it up.”
“Mother fucker!” Artemis yelled as he spit the rag out of his mouth. “Did you have to do that?”
“Unfortunately,” I replied while I threaded the needle. “I had to make sure your bone wasn’t shattered.”
“Well?” Artemis asked, his breaths sawing in and out of him. If he didn’t calm down, he was going to hyperventilate. I reached up and placed my hand back on his chest.
“Calm down, Butterfly. Everything is going to be okay,” I tried to reassure him. Take a deep breath.” As soon as his breathing started to calm, I returned to looking at his leg.
My hands moved quickly, each stitch a practiced routine despite the pounding in my chest. I wiped away the sweat that trickled down my forehead with the back of my hand, careful not to smudge Artemis’s wound. The raw smell of blood was heavy in the air, its metallic scent mixing with the grime and gunpowder that clung to both of us.
“Almost done, Butterfly,” I reassured him. His eyes were clenched tight, his jaw set in a grim line. Sweat beaded down his scarred face, tracing paths over his skin. His chest rose and fell in quick succession, tiny whimpers escaping him.
It took just a few minutes to get the back of the leg stitched. Wiping the blood that was seeping from the wound on the front of his thigh, I pinched the edges together and started working. The front was trickier. I had to be careful.
“How bad is it?” Artemis asked as he tried to lift his head and look at the wound.
“Not too bad,” I had done everything to keep Artemis from getting hurt, and he still ended up getting shot.
“I’ll survive, then?” Artemis’s question was laced with a fragile humor that seemed to hang in the air, starkly contrasting our grim surroundings.
I didn’t take my eyes off his wound as I replied, “With my expert care, you don’t have a choice.” Despite the dire circumstances, I felt him relax a little beneath my touch, his body no longer wound as tightly.
I continued to stitch the gaping wound on his thigh, working with a precision honed by years of skirmishes and gunfights.
“Done,” I announced a few minutes later and snipped the thread. The wound was now closed, and the blood-smeared skin surrounding it cleaned up. Artemis slowly relaxed beneath my touch, his quick breaths finally easing into a normal rhythm.
“Well, that was fun.” His voice was shaky, but his eyes held a gleam of humor. One of the things I admired most about him was his resilience in the face of adversity.
I bandaged the wound tightly. “There we are, Butterfly.” I breathed heavily, relief washing over me. “You’re going to be okay.”
I looked up at Artemis, who had his eyes closed shut. He was pale and sweaty, his lips trembling a little. His face showed a mixture of pain and relief but, more than anything else, exhaustion. He met my eyes briefly before letting himself fall back onto the makeshift bed, sinking deeper into the soft pile of blankets.
Artemis’s breath shuddered out of him as he finally spoke, his words barely a whisper. “I’m such an idiot.”
“No, you’re not, Artemis,” I chastised him gently, my fingers tracing the dark circles under his eyes.
He turned away from me, staring at some unfathomable point in the distance. He swallowed hard before replying, his voice shaky but audible, “But if it weren’t for me…” he took a shuddering breath, his head shaking back and forth. “I never should have gone in that house.”
“We’re both still alive, aren’t we? That’s not idiocy. That’s survival.” Undeterred by his self-deprecation, I gently cupped his face, forcing him to meet my eyes again. “It’s not your fault,” I insisted. “We couldn’t have known.”
But Artemis shook his head, stubbornly refusing to relinquish his guilt. “I should have listened to you,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet. “You told me not to try and capture one. I saw one go into that house and thought I could get it and be right back.”
He swallowed hard, his eyes dropping to the tangled mess of our hands in his lap. “I-I almost got us killed,” he confessed, his voice breaking on the words.
“But you didn’t,” I stressed, squeezing his hands in assurance. “We’re here. We’re alive.”
Artemis shook his head slowly, tears brimming in those crystal-blue eyes. “No thanks to me…”
“You didn’t know they were there. I should have gone with you,” I tried to tell him. “I never should have let you go alone.”
He looked so fragile—those wide blue eyes filled with a pang of guilt no person should carry alone. I leaned down and kissed his trembling lips, pulling him into my arms. I needed to feel him against me, to reassure myself that he was safe and mostly unharmed.
Artemis stiffened at the sudden contact, his breath hitching in his throat. Then I felt him melt into my arms, his arms clenched around my waist as he held on tight. His body shook with silent sobs that tore through him, releasing his guilt and self-blame.
Silently, I held him, feeling the rhythm of his heart against mine, assuring me that he was still here, still alive. I stroked his hair gently, whispering soft words of reassurance in his ear. My voice seemed to soothe him. After what felt like an eternity, Artemis’s sobs quieted down to shaky breaths.
He pulled back slightly, wiping away the tears staining his cheeks with his hand. He gave me a weak smile, eyes red-rimmed but grateful. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Always,” I responded softly, pressing another gentle kiss against his forehead. He clung to me desperately, and we stayed like that for a while, just holding each other. “I will always be here for you, Artemis. I told you. You’re mine. I’m not letting you go that easily.”
After what seemed like hours, Artemis’s breaths finally began to steady. His grip on me loosened as he pulled back to look at me. The fear that had been there before was dimmer now.
“Butterfly, are you okay now?”
Artemis’s eyes looked lost as I held him close, fingers carding through his hair in soothing strokes.
Slowly, he nodded. “I-I think so.” His gaze dropped back to the floor. His unsteady fingers picked at a loose thread on the rumpled sheets. He sounded broken and lost. “How did you know they were there? I heard you yelling for me.”
I didn’t want to tell him. I didn’t want to show him the file. My eyes jumped over to where the folder lay on the table. Artemis’s arms didn’t let go of me, so I didn’t let go of him. I knew when I showed him it would shatter him even more, resurrect those demons. But he deserved to know.
“I… I found something,” My words were heavy with unspoken implications. His gaze followed mine to the folder on the table, and something flickered in his eyes—fear, trepidation, curiosity? Perhaps all of them tangled together.
“What was it?” Artemis questioned after a moment of silence.
My heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice and the lingering fear that clouded his eyes. I took a deep breath before I pulled the picture out of my pocket and gently pressed it into his hand.
His eyes trailed down my body to land on the photograph. I heard the gasp as he sucked in a breath before he snatched his hand away from me, holding up the photo of himself and his sister.
“Apollo,” he whispered. Tears streamed down his face. “Where did you get this?”
His gaze was fixated on the worn photograph, which had frayed edges and faded colors. His sister, Apollo, smiled brightly in the photo, her arm thrown around Artemis’s shoulder. They looked happy and carefree.
I couldn’t bear to see him in such pain. So, I took a deep breath and began to explain.
“I found it. It was in that folder.” I gestured to the table. “It was open on top of a car. As soon as I saw it, I knew. I knew that they were there and when you didn’t answer me, I knew they had you.”
Artemis looked at me, his eyes wide and raw. “They were watching us,” he whispered, his voice almost drowned out by the room’s silence.
“It seems like it,” I admitted, reaching for the photo he held. I observed it closely, my heart aching as I saw the youthful joy in their faces. How happy they had been, unaware of the darkness awaiting them.
Artemis’s hands clenched into fists by his side as he forced himself to speak. “My sister…” His voice broke, and he had to swallow hard before continuing. “They have her, don’t they?”
And there it was—the question I had been dreading. Should I let him hope? Could I bear to see the light die out from his eyes?
“I don’t know, Artemis,” I gently caressed his cheek. “But I think so.” As Artemis continued to stare at the photo, I could see the emotions washing over him, a deep well of sadness.
He blinked rapidly, tears spilling down his cheeks as he clutched the photo close to his chest. A silent sob shook his body, and he shut his eyes tightly, grief etched into every line of his face.
“We have to find her.” He looked up over the top of the picture.
His words hung between us, heavy with desperation and determination. I focused on his eyes, now brimming with a renewed sense of purpose.
“We will,” I reassured him, squeezing his hand gently. “We’ll find her, I promise.”
“Tomorrow! Let’s start tomorrow.”
“Artemis.” I took his hand. “We can’t yet. You just got shot. Let’s get you better before we leave. Just a few weeks, and I will take you to New Pharia. Arya can probably help.”
Artemis was silent momentarily, his gaze distant as he weighed my words. He looked at me for a moment and then back at his leg, his body tensing up like he was gearing up to fight with me. His eyes were filled with conflict. The desire to find his sister battled with the rationality of my words. He opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out.
“I don’t want to wait,” he finally said.
I sighed, understanding his impatience yet knowing the necessity of waiting.
“I know,” I responded softly, “but it will do Apollo no good if you get an infection. I’m asking for a little longer to let your body heal.”
His gaze was stern, but I stared back, unblinking. It was a tug-of-war between our wills, both driven by concern for him yet divided in approach.
Silence stretched out between us, the only sound being our shared breaths.
His gaze flicked back to the photograph, his knuckles white as he clutched it tightly. “A few weeks,” he repeated after a moment, the words coming out defeated. I knew him well enough to know that waiting was the last thing he wanted to do.
Artemis sighed and nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “How long exactly?”
“Two weeks, tops. Your new body heals pretty fast. It shouldn’t take very long.”
His resolve was evident in his words, and his impatience was palpable. Knowing the stakes we were playing with, I couldn’t blame him. I nodded in response, a silent promise carved into the room’s silence.
Once again, Artemis looked at the picture. This time, however, he seemed to be drawing strength from it rather than succumbing to despair. He gently traced his sister’s face, a soft smile forming on his lips despite the pain.
“Okay.” He gave in. “Two weeks, no longer.” I nodded, relieved that he had agreed to wait. My heart ached for him—I knew how much he missed his sister and needed her. But I also knew that rushing into action now would do more harm than good.
“I promise not a day longer,” I reassured him.
Artemis nodded, the tension in his body slowly easing.
“It’s a deal.” Artemis glanced down at the photo again, a faraway look in his eyes. “I miss her,” he murmured, the vulnerability in his voice twisting my heart, “so fucking much.”
The words were simple, but behind them was an ocean of emotion too deep and wide to fathom easily. I didn’t need to ask who he was talking about; the answer was evident in the way he traced his sister’s smiling face in that old photograph.
A wave of relief washed over me, and I kissed the top of his head. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest, its rhythm erratic from the emotional turmoil he had just endured. I didn’t want to let him go after the day he had.
We stayed like that for a while, our breaths synchronizing with each passing moment. His grip on me tightened slightly as if he needed to reassure himself that I was beside him.
As Artemis looked at the photograph, his eyes welling up with tears, I felt my heart break a little. “I know you do. I know how hard this has been for you, Butterfly.” I took his hands in mine before I pried them away from the picture. “I swear, two weeks, and I will take you to Arya. We will find Apollo. I just can’t…” My words seemed stuck in my chest. “I can’t take risks with you.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze drifting away from the photograph as he looked at me. There was a haunted look in his eyes that I didn’t like, but I knew it wasn’t something that could be erased easily. The pain he was feeling was real and raw.
“But what if Arya can’t help us?” Artemis questioned.
“Then we will find another way,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. I understood his fear, the uncertainty that was eating at him. “If she can’t,” I continued, holding his gaze, “we’ll find someone who can. But we won’t know until we try.”
“Will you promise?” Artemis asked, his voice hoarse with emotion. His blue eyes searched mine as he gripped the photo tightly.
“I promise,” I replied firmly, my gaze steady. At that moment, I would have promised him the moon if he asked for it. “I won’t rest until we find her.”
There was a pause, a moment of silence filled only by our shared breaths and the quiet hum of the room around us. Time seemed to stop as we sat there, two lost souls anchored only by a shared pain and promise.
Artemis nodded, a hint of relief seeping into his bleak expression. With a trembling hand, he placed the picture back into the folder.
“Okay,” Artemis agreed, his voice hoarse but steady. “Two weeks to heal, and then we’ll go to Arya.”
Relief washed over me again, easing some of the tension in my chest. It had been a long and exhausting day for both of us. More was said in our silence than any words could express.
I reached up with both hands, thumbs brushing the tears away. I held his face in my hands as I leaned my forehead against his, my horns cradling his head against me. Artemis’s hands grabbed both arms, claws biting into my skin.
He needed me. His grip reminded me that he trusted me and believed in my ability to keep him safe. I can only reassure him and try to keep things normal amid the chaos.
My body ached, but I forced myself not to let it show. This wasn’t about me.
I looked into his wide, blue eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, any hint that he was still afraid. But there was something different there now—determination and resolve. He’s strong, even in the face of his pain and fear.
I gave him a small, reassuring smile. “We’ll find her, Artemis. I promise.”
Artemis leaned in and brushed his lips against mine.
I returned the kiss gently, feeling the weight of the promise and the fire of determination burning within me. I wouldn’t fail Artemis.
We’d leave in two weeks. I’d help him find Apollo. I’d protect him, guide him through the darkness, and lead us to the light. I’d keep that promise. I wouldn’t fail him like I failed Calea.