Chapter 28 Wyatt #2
She beats Garrick’s chest with her bloodied fists. I’ve never seen her this feral. Tears streak her cheeks and her hair is wild.
“It was those that we had in the cells?” Garrick asks calmly, trying to hold her by her arms.
“Yes. They came out for blood. We solved the game. Went to get the weapon and got fucking ambushed. I wasn’t quick enough.” She crumbles again, her legs giving out. “He’s going to die and it’s my fault and it hurts so fucking bad.”
Garrick crouches as I stand numb to the scene before me. He grips her chin with his fingers and forces her to look at him.
“You brought him back here. If he can be saved, Dominic will do it. We can’t stop every asshole hell-bent on killing.”
“Please tell me you’ll punish them. I trapped their souls.”
“It’ll be my pleasure, Goddess." Garrick smiles down at her as I watch a tenderness pass between them I’d never think they were capable of.
Slowly, Garrick helps her to her feet once more and it’s as he moves around her, murmuring something about going to help Dominic–who I assume is the medic guy–before gently passing her into my arms.
“Wyatt,” she breathes through fresh tears. Her arms wrap around my shoulders and her fingers grip onto the fabric covering my back. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Unsure how to react, I simply fold her into my chest and hold her as sobs rack her body.
“You don’t need to be sorry. If Milo got attacked, I know you would’ve done everything to protect him.
” I gently stroke her hair and breathe in her scent.
The rich fruits mixed with the blood and sweat is almost comforting, except the ill feeling pitching through my stomach as I remember it’s Milo’s blood.
It feels like we stand there for hours, clinging to one another as we wait. Garrick comes out once to tell us Milo is alive but they need to keep working to ensure he stays that way.
He gives me an assessing look, but must find whatever he’s looking for, as he leaves again without saying anything more.
More time passes and the frosted pane in the entrance door starts to lighten, then the sunlight begins streaking through. I simply keep my arm around my girl and wait. We haven’t talked any further, and I think she falls asleep for a little while, but our grip on each other never slips.
Finally, Dominic comes out of the room where they’ve been treating Milo. He looks tired, weary, but smiles as soon as he locks eyes with us sitting on the floor.
I nudge Tacita, pretty sure her eyes had closed again, and she jolts awake. “Dom, please, is he okay?”
“He’s stable. Humans are damn hard to keep alive, I won’t sugar coat it. But he responded well and I think he’ll live.”
Hot relief crashes into me with that last word. Leaning my head back against the wall, I’m the one crying this time, as I fail to keep the tears from spilling out. Tacita is up and hugging Dominic. He returns it before she pulls back, thanking him.
“Can we see him?” she asks.
“Of course. I am going to go get some food and possibly a nap. I'm running on dregs here, but come get me if you need me.” He gently pats Tacita’s arm before giving me a nod and walking out through the main doorway.
“Come on,” Tacita says, facing me and holding out her hand. Taking a breath, I try to muster the courage to move but remain sitting. My girl crouches back down on her haunches. “He’s going to be okay.”
“I know. It’s just, we nearly lost him.”
“But we didn’t,” she says softly.
Heaving myself to my feet, she takes my hand and doesn’t let go as we go into the treatment room. The smell of disinfectant and other cleaning products assaults my senses as we enter. The room looks tidy, clean, and almost serene.
Garrick is tidying away some supplies in one corner, the entire back wall an array of cupboards, shelves and a countertop with a sink in the middle.
To our left is a hospital bed, and wrapped in the clean white sheets is a very pale Milo. His normally alabaster skin is almost translucent. But aside from that, and the drip currently attached by a needle in his hand, there is nothing to suggest the devastating injury he’s sustained.
“He won’t regain consciousness for a while yet. He’s had a large dose of sedatives,” Garrick informs us.
Tacita moves silently across to the bed and reaches for his hand, the one without the needle in it.
I watch as her fingers close gently around his wrist, feeling for his pulse.
Her face and posture visibly change as she finds his heartbeat.
Brushing his hair out of his eyes, she lays a kiss on his forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” I tell her. “I said no more apologies.”
Walking to Milo’s other side, I gently link his fingers with mine, careful not to knock the catheter. They’re a little colder than usual so I close my other hand over the top to warm them up. “Sweetheart, you’re not supposed to scare us like this.”
Garrick moves behind me, coming round the room to stand behind Tacita. He places his hand gently to her hip and she instantly leans back into him, seeking stability. Their bond is clear to see, new as it is. I suppose the same could be said for the rest of us.
“The blade cut through his diaphragm. It punctured his left lung but luckily missed his heart. Dom managed to repair everything but it’ll take a few days for him to heal. His lung collapsed because of the blood filling it.”
“A few days?” I say, surprised. “Shouldn’t it take weeks?”
Garrick gives me a condescending grin. “You’re not on the human plane anymore, Dom used his gifts as a healer to speed things along. It’s not an instant fix but it will help his cells regenerate more quickly than normal.”
“There’s truly magic here? Do you all have powers?”
“Don’t you listen at all to the things we’ve been trying to teach you?” That surly voice is back in his tone.
“Sometimes,” I say petulantly.
Tacita’s lips pull up on one side. “We don’t have active magic.
Except for Hades and a few select others.
But Dom has trained as a healer, he can pull on the magic that flows in this realm to make potions and medicines.
It is a great gift that only a few who train actually manage to master.
Other than the healers, it is only the witches who can harness magic. ”
Other pieces of information thrown my way tonight light up in my brain with her inclusion of herself in her statement.
“You’re one of them?” I ask. “That other guard said you had wings.”
Fear flashes across her face, but not at my new knowledge. She spins out of Garrick's hold to face him. “How many saw me? Do they all know?”
Garrick shakes his head. “I don’t think many saw, but even so I don’t think they’ll make the leap to your alter ego, except for Tarron.
He might as he knows we slept together. Well, that I slept with…
the other you.” He glances my way. “And then you were screaming my name with Dom’s tonight.
I have him wiping all CCTV and threatening any of the officers who dare to speak of your wings. ”
Her shoulders slump and she rests a hip against Milo’s bed. She turns back to his expressionless face. “I didn’t think.”
“I will ensure your identity stays a secret. And if Tarron does put it together, he won’t say anything. I trust him.”
“What are you?” I demand, not overly gently. I thought we were done with secrets.
“I’m sorry, Wyatt.” She walks round the bed to stand in front of me. “I wanted to tell you, was going to tell you tonight, until it all went to shit.”
“Tell me,” I plead.
Instead of speaking, my girlfriend shifts in front of my eyes. Giant black wings erupt from her back, horns sprout from her head, arching up in a red and black ombre and finally a tail curls around her leg, the end resting on the ground at her feet.
I have to catch my breath as I take her in. She’s breathtaking, even tired, and covered in dirt and blood. I can’t stop scanning her new form, a power emanating from her that calls to me on a deep level, like a siren song.
“Please, say something.” Her voice cuts through my admiration.
“You’re a demon?” I ask, after clearing my throat.
“Yes.”
“You were never human?”
“No.”
“Then why are you a contestant?”
“I’m undercover. In more ways than one.” Her eyes flick to Garrick who is drinking her in and offering his silent support.
“Tell me, Mo Stór,” I encourage her. “I can handle it.”
“You may have seen me around the compound, as the Death Bringer.”
It takes a second for her words to land. I look at her horns again, her wings, the features matching that of the cloaked figure which turns up with each murder over the last few weeks.
“I am the head assassin to our Lord, Hades. I go by several names, Death Bringer, Hades’s Assassin, the Silent Death. But not even the demonic world knows my true identity, they all get the masked version.”
“So, Tacita?”
“Tacita is my real name. No one but a few very close friends know I am one and the same.”
Garrick huffs a laugh.
“What was that for?” Tacita narrows her eyes at him.
“You may as well tell him that your friends are Hades and his husband Khaos. Unless there are others that you’ve not told me about.”
“My parents know the truth.” She pouts.
“How long have you known?” I throw to the man standing across Milo’s bedside. I don’t know why it’s important but I need to know.
“Since the day you both got yourselves chucked into my cells,” Garrick replies. “Trust me, it was a shock to me to find out I’d got a spy amongst the humans from our side. Let alone the Death Bringer. She’s kind of notorious in our world.”
“Does Milo know?” I ask next.
“Not fully, but he was conscious when I flew him back here.”
I watch Milo’s chest for a breath, seeing it rise and fall gently, like his lungs are perfectly healthy and not recovering from what should’ve been a fatal injury.
Then I step towards the woman watching my every reaction. I can’t tell if she expects me to yell, or run, or what, but I reach out to cup her cheek. Stepping into her space I search her eyes. I see everything laid bare in her deep amber pools.
“That’s your final secret?”
She nods, not breaking eye contact. “You know the real me, Wyatt. That’s more than almost everyone on any plane of existence. As Tacita, you already know me. I’m just even more of a badass than you knew.”
“Can I tell you a secret of mine?”
She blinks and tilts her head in my hands, eyes turning questioning.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“What?” She stills.
“I love you,” I repeat. “Have done for a while. I don’t care what you are, although I’m damn curious to know more about the Death Bringer. I want to know your history, your job, everything about you. But it doesn’t change how I feel.”
“You’re not angry that I kept this from you?”
“Yes, there’s some anger there, but I understand it. I’ve lived that double life, remember? I am–or was–a hitman. I had the pseudonym. I understand the need to protect it. And it was yours that saved the other love of my life tonight. How can I be truly angry about that.”
“I love you too, Wyatt,” she says.
I tilt her head up slightly so I can kiss her. Her hands come to my sides and I move mine to wrap around her back as I deepen the kiss.
Sliding one palm up her spine she arches into me, her tongue meeting mine in a dance I never want to not know.
But it abruptly ends as my hand reaches the base of her wings. She pulls away with a jolt as I freeze, having not thought about them as I’d run my hand up between her shoulders.
“Those are very sensitive,” she chuckles, biting her lip and shuddering as I drop my palm.
“Noted,” I say and kiss her again.
I keep it more chaste this time before pulling back.
“And what about the horns?” I have to ask.
“She likes being held in place by them,” Garrick answers, causing us both to turn our heads.
“Really?” I raise a brow and look back down at my girl with a playful smirk. I suppose I should feel jealous that he knew that before I did but I’m not that guy. My mind instead starts conjuring some very fun scenarios we could have.
Tacita’s response is to shift back to her human form before I can test out any of my new ideas.
“You’ll regret telling him that,” she threatens.
“Pretty sure I won’t, Goddess.” Garrick moves towards her. “In fact, I think he just imagined shoving you to your knees and holding those sharp horns of yours whilst I fuck your throat.”
Yep, okay, Garrick is on board with sharing. I lock that away for later, his idea sounding a damn good one. I also have to shift my dick with the visual he just fed me.
Garrick chuckles as I adjust myself. He leans in to kiss Tacita, not caring that she’s still in my arms. “I should leave, go check on things. I’m sure Tarron will have gathered the bodies you left out in the forest by now and Hades is also probably waiting in my office.”
“I should come with you.” Tacita straightens.
“No, you should stay here. I can handle it. Give me a few hours then I’ll come back and watch Milo so you both can shower and sleep.”
“I want to stay until he wakes up,” I say defiantly.
“He’ll be out for at least a day. You should get some rest.”
“He’s right, Wyatt,” Tacita adds. It’s only the fact that I know how exhausted she is, and the fact I would like to take care of her, wash the blood off her, that I concede.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Garrick says.
“You don’t mind sitting with him?” Tacita asks.
“Not at all.”
They kiss again before Garrick goes to leave. I step back to let them have a moment, moving back to Milo’s side. He’s still sleeping so peacefully. I can’t wait for him to wake and learn everything I have tonight.
There’s been another shift in our relationship and he’s unaware of it. Of the permanence I now feel about it. I think he’s going to be pleased.
“Wait, Garrick,” Tacita’s call has me refocusing on her once more.
“Yes?” Garrick pauses, halfway out the door.
“I totally forgot that I left Seffy and Rio in that forest. Please don’t subject them to anything or keep them locked up. They are innocent.”
“Got it,” he says and leaves.