Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
The Seraphim throbbed beneath his feet like a living beast. Built to outrun, outmaneuver, and outfight, she was a sanctuary for the rescued and his true north, the one constant that never failed him.
Stocked with medical supplies and with surgeons onboard to tend the wounded, she had every facility the returning team required and more.
Sable worked tirelessly alongside him as they triaged the rescued. She nagged him about his wound. He refused treatment. That could wait. There was too much to do. He’d rest when the last of the prisoners had been assessed and cared for.
Medics were everywhere, comforting the broken and reassuring children who clutched at strangers as they cried for their parents. The hardest thought to banish was that their kin were likely dead, but keeping things positive was vital for the children to survive and eventually thrive.
The air on deck stank of blood and unwashed bodies, overlaid with a powerful disinfectant. “Get these people inside as soon as you can, to rest and be fed,” he told the doctor in charge. “They need comfort and reassurance most of all.”
“If we’ve seen worse, I can’t think when,” Sable told him as they met briefly. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” she added, her gaze fixed on the blood soaking through his tunic.
Okay, so it was bleeding again. Grudgingly, he stopped treating others and became a patient, but only when he was sure most of their shattered guests had been taken to more comfortable surroundings.
“If you lose any more blood, you’ll be no use to anyone,” Sable scolded as he led the way.
“Yeah, yeah.”
Once inside his quarters, she cleaned the wound thoroughly, despite his repeated demands to get back on deck. Eventually, he’d had enough. “I can’t do this—”
“You can and you will,” she insisted, pushing him down again. “I know you feel guilty for taking time out, but nothing about this is how we’d like it. Those people need you alive and strong. So hold still, damn you, and let me finish!”
The instant she put her kit down, he was off.
“Hey! Come back,” she called after him. “You can’t go straight back. You could faint.”
“Faint,” he repeated, bringing his face close.
“You need to rest,” she said, finding something to do rather than stay close to him.
“Have you ever known rest?”
Her cheeks pinked, telling him everything he needed to know about ever-so-practical, apparently detached Sable Alexandrovna. How long was she going to keep up the act? “I’m going to see Mara. Thanks for this. Much appreciated. You can find your own way back.”
“I could find my way to hell and back,” she assured him.
“Let’s hope that’s not necessary.”
He closed the door on who the fuck knew which version of Sable: calm and cold, or hot and hungry? Did he care?
Fuck yes, he cared. And cared more every minute.
* * *
She took time off from her duties for one vital mission.
Elijah had waited a long time to properly reunite with Mara, and she didn’t want to miss it.
There was a chance Mara might not want to be reminded of the past. Elijah was tough, but she’d seen him look at that photograph, as if it drove him to go further and work harder to help those who couldn’t help themselves.
At least he’d finally let Sable take care of his outward wound. As for his inner turmoil? She doubted anyone could predict how that would end. If she had any part to play in his future, she’d like to help him heal.
If he’d allow that, which she doubted.
At least he’d survived. So had all the team members, none seriously injured. Thank God for that. It could have been so much worse.
She took a last look around to make sure she’d cleaned up the medical bits and pieces, then gathered her belongings and left to see who she could help next.
* * *
The deck was nearly empty when he arrived to search for Mara. The crew was tidying up, and a quiet calm had settled over the ship. The engines were steady, and it was a good time to think, to confide. All the lights were low, and the vastness of the sea swallowed inconsequential noise.
And then he saw her.
Standing by the rail, Mara stared out to sea. She didn’t lean or sit, because standing and staying alert was safer. Spine straight, chin raised, weight evenly balanced on the balls of her feet, she was ready for anything.
Like him.
She seemed smaller than at the auction, and her long black hair was a mess after the chaos of the rescue, yet her hands, those no-nonsense hands he remembered so well from when she’d crafted toys from trash for him, were relaxed and steady at her sides.
He made a quick calculation that Mara must be thirty now. Her face was sharper, all angles and endurance. Simple gray sweats and borrowed sneakers took him back to the past, when new clothes were unknown to the two forgotten children.
She knew he was there. Instinct told Mara what her eyes couldn’t see.
He clenched his fists and didn’t relax until she turned and walked toward him. Halting in front of him, she lifted her chin, searching his eyes. “Elijah.” Her voice was soft and calm. “I knew you’d save me.”
“Your strength saved you.”
A faint smile acknowledged it, and they embraced.
Mara’s relief was obvious, while his concern only deepened. She was too thin and had seen too much. God only knew what she’d endured.
“Long time,” he breathed. He didn’t ask how she’d been, because that was painfully obvious. “How did you get here?” he asked instead.
“When I aged out of the foster system, like you, I had no safety net, family, or money. I bounced between low-paid jobs, cleaning, waitressing, and warehouse shifts. Rent for my single room had spiked, so I answered an ad for hospitality work overseas—good pay, travel covered. It sounded so exciting…”
“I’m sure,” he said gently when she trailed off.
“The job never existed,” Mara continued in a flat voice. “My passport was taken ‘for safekeeping’ on my arrival in Malta.”
“They took your passport?” His jaw tightened. “They preyed on the wrong woman.”
“The ‘agency’ turned out to be a trafficking front. By the time I realized that, I was already off-grid—one of the many ‘disappeared.’ I was moved through encrypted networks and sold on, I arrived at the auction where you found me.” She laughed without humor.
“Auction lot named: Ass ten. Prime stock.”
He cursed inwardly. “You survived. That’s all that matters.”
“Thanks to you.”
“You don’t owe anyone gratitude for that. Not me, that’s for sure. You’re free thanks to your courage and resilience.”
“You’re angry.”
“Does it show?”
“Fists clenched? Jaw tight? Yes, it shows. I know you, remember?”
They shared a quick smile.
Life had been shit for Mara, but when they pulled apart, her steady appraisal told him she hadn’t changed. She still put others before herself with an inner strength and determination he could only admire. Once she recovered, she’d be an ideal recruit for the Blood and Thunder team.
“The other prisoners told me no one would come,” she said in the same quiet voice. “But I knew you wouldn’t forget.”
Something viselike loosened in his chest. If Sable hadn’t gotten in touch with him, he wouldn’t even have known Mara was in danger. “Of course, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. How did you hear about the team?”
“Word spreads fast among the desperate.” Smiling, she brightened. “I followed your rise every step of the way.”
A rise he could never have made without this woman. He doubted he’d have survived childhood without her. Finding Mara again was a reminder that good people existed, and that maybe he shouldn’t distance himself from everyone just because he could.
Her gaze fell to his chest. “You got careless?” she asked, cocking her head and giving him a look. “Were you reckless, Elijah?”
“What, me?”
She laughed. “Still the same Elijah.”
“Always. And this is nothing,” he insisted as she stared at his arm.
She checked the dressing anyway, force of habit, he supposed. “You have a great partner,” she said. “Did she do this for you?”
“Sable is an integral part of the team again.”
“And in your life again?”
Ignoring the question, he told her to rest.
“There’s time enough to rest when I’m dead,” she replied. “What I’m looking for is a new direction so I can help others as you helped me.”
“You started that trend,” he reminded her. “But, as it happens, I do have an opening in mind. We’ll talk when things have settled.”
“You’re the one who should be resting,” she insisted.
“I’m not a child now.”
“I can see that,” she agreed, laughing as she stepped back.
* * *
The reunion between Elijah and Mara was everything Sable had hoped for. It made her even more eager to find Anna Marie—
“Sable!”
“Anna?”
Her young friend ran toward her and then stopped short. Bitter experience had taught her caution. Her hands clenched and unclenched as she asked, “May I call you Sable?”
“You can call me anything you want.” Exclaiming with relief, she dragged the teenager into her arms.
“You always spoke to me,” Anna whispered against her neck. “You were the only one who ever noticed me.”
Sable laughed softly. “You used to say, ‘It’s me’ in that soft voice of yours whenever we met in that echoing stairwell—”
“The one that stank of oil and bleach,” Anna remembered. Pulling away, she took a deep breath. “You saw me getting into the SUV. You suspected what was going on.” Her eyes shone fierce and bright. “Why did it take you so long to find us?”
“I won’t lie. I had ghosts to deal with and an elusive man to find.”
It was as if Anna Marie had only been waiting for confirmation that Sable was human too. Throwing her arms around Sable, she said, “I can never thank you enough. I hoped you’d come, because you always looked at me as if I mattered.”
“Of course, you matter. So much,” Sable said fiercely. Closing her eyes, she knew that every bridge she’d burned was worth it to be here.
Stepping back, Anna Marie studied her face as if searching for cracks that bitter experience had taught her to look for.
Finding none, she nodded once, sharp and decisive.
“If I can ever do anything to help. I’m nearly nineteen, you know.
I should be working, not idling away my time thinking back.
I want to move forward. I want to work—do something positive with my life. Work with children, maybe.”
“I do have a few ideas to run by you when everything settles down,” Sable admitted.
“Please use me however you can. I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done—and not just for me.”
They pressed their foreheads together briefly and let the moment hang. It was a precious time of silent promises with the Seraphim humming steadily beneath them.