Chapter 29 Tacita
Tacita
Wyatt and I make our way back to the infirmary as the sun is setting. After the horrific storm yesterday, it’s back to clear skies and burning temperatures. The last rays hit my cheeks as we crossed the tarmac.
Dom had returned with Garrick around lunchtime, and after we stayed whilst Dom carried out his checks on Milo, we had gone back to Wyatt’s room to rest for a while.
Although, the delicious ache between my thighs will argue the definition of rest. The shower we’d taken together hadn’t started out as anything sexual, but it certainly ended that way.
And Wyatt’s curiosity over my demonic attributes apparently fed his already insatiable libido, for we were barely dried from said shower when he demanded I shift again so he could acquaint himself with my true nature.
Whilst those rooms were so tiny for my wings, I have to hand it to Wyatt, he is inventive and a fast learner.
I think maybe we managed an hour’s sleep.
Dom had told us he expected Milo to wake just after dark, so we’d caffeined up, grabbed some food to go from the canteen, and walked back to the infirmary, entwined hands swinging between us.
There was a lightness in my chest I hadn’t felt in days.
Despite Milo’s brush with death, I couldn’t halt the happiness pumping around my body.
We’d caught the killer. Cameron now sat locked in the cells and was waiting transfer to Tartarus. The rest of his crew had already been sent there.
Wyatt knew my final secret, and Milo was halfway there–I’d tell him as soon as he was lucid. Garrick and Wyatt seem to be getting along and I could start to see a future for all of us after Milo and Wyatt passed the final test in these games.
Me too, technically. As I would play this thing out undercover. If only to give a little help to my two humans if they needed it.
Entering Milo’s room, I couldn’t help the smile that overtook my face as I spotted the giant black panther curled on the end of Milo’s bed.
Before I can speak, however, Wyatt yanks me back so hard that I collide with his broad chest, and the bag of food he was carrying hitting the floor.
“What the fuck, Wyatt?” I sputter, trying to turn in his iron-like grip.
“You’re seeing the giant predator on Milo’s bed, right?” Wyatt hisses, tone laced with fear.
“Relax. It’s Garrick.” The black cat raises his head at his name, or the commotion we’re causing, and his yellow eyes meet mine. I was almost certain it would be Garrick lounging on the bed but his eyes confirm it.
“That’s Garrick?” Wyatt splutters.
Right… Garrick has thus far hidden his supernatural side from the contestants.
Releasing a chuckle, I pull out of Wyatt’s hold. Walking straight over to the bed, I reach out and scratch behind one of Garrick’s feline ears. He leans into it in greeting.
The panther shifters may be deadly, incredibly agile and strong, but really they’re giant softies wrapped in sharp claws and lethal jaws.
I tell him as much and he swats at me, causing me to giggle, before he leaps off the bed.
Wyatt is still standing hesitantly by the door. He looks torn between getting to Milo and fleeing the room.
Garrick slinks towards him, crouching slightly like he’s about to pounce. But before he reaches Wyatt he shifts instead. In a blink, the black cat is gone and Garrick is standing before us.
“Thanks for the food,” he says, reaching down for the bag Wyatt dropped.
“Holy shit, that’s cool!” Wyatt reanimates and immediately jumps into asking Garrick a thousand questions as we divide up the burgers and fries we snatched for dinner.
I hope Milo doesn’t mind that we use his bed to eat in lieu of a table. He is still sleeping peacefully. I run my fingers down his arm occasionally or brush his wayward hair out of his face, but his eyes don’t open.
“Why were you shifted anyway?” Wyatt asks.
“It’s easier to detect intruders.”
“Do you think there’s still danger?” I ask, tuning back into their conversation fully.
“I don’t know. Hades has been questioning Cameron all afternoon, he’s admitted to feeding information to the Angels.”
Suddenly, I’m done with my food. “How was he communicating with them?”
“It seems they’ve worked out a way to speak telepathically with him.”
“Shit! So everything he’s witnessed, heard, or learned has immediately been fed back to them?”
“No. From what Hades has gleaned from his head, the connection isn’t constant. But we don’t know when the last communication was.”
“What do the Angels want with Hell?” Wyatt asks.
“We’re not entirely sure,” I tell him. “We’ve never exactly been friendly but in general we leave each other alone. They have their soul cycle system and we have ours. There’s some balance between both realms. But ten years ago, they fucked up these recruitment games. Everybody died.”
Wyatt’s eyes narrow and the skin on his forehead creases as he takes in that information and thinks. He eats a few more fries before answering. “Did they send Cameron in here this time to do the same?”
“We presume so, Hades can’t get that part of the plan out of him. He may not know.” Garrick responds this time.
“Can’t you kill him? It doesn’t matter what his plan is, he won’t be able to feed any more information back and the Angels will lose their connection.” Wyatt puffs his chest a little, believing his simple answer will solve our problems.
“Technically, he is already dead.” Wyatt deflates as Garrick explains. “Hades is reanimating his corpse after Tacita killed him in the woods. And you’re in Hell now. His soul won’t be dying for a very, very long time.”
“Tartarus?”
“Exactly.” And the gleam in Garrick’s eye shows how much he is going to enjoy punishing Cameron once Hades is done with him. I might have to ask to watch some of the torture he’s planning.
There’s a shifting of bed covers, cutting off our conversation. Milo stirs, his legs stretching first before his fingers twitch, feeling the cotton under his touch.
We all move as his eyelids flutter, those gorgeous lashes of his batting against his pale cheeks before they open to reveal his piercing malachite eyes.
“Welcome back, Sweetheart.” Wyatt’s smooth Irish lilt breaks the silence.
Milo looks between us before his gaze lingers on me. He scans me carefully, like he’s trying to look beyond what he can currently see.
“Do you remember what happened?” I ask him gently.
His eyes glaze over for a minute like he’s sifting through fog, which he probably is with the sedatives and painkillers still in his system. But then he stills, his eyes sharpening in an instant.
I feel a tug as he withdraws his hand from mine. Sharp coldness stabs through my gut until I see him do the same to Wyatt. He simply needed his hand to sign.
“You had wings.”
I go to answer but Wyatt beats me to it, he leans down to capture Milo’s attention, a rueful smile on his lips as he says, “Yes, our girl has been holding back one final secret.” His eyes flick to me as he straightens once more. “Show him.”
Stepping back, I strip off my top without speaking. Garrick leans back against the counter, shooting me a wink as I let my wings free.
For good measure, I allow my horns out too but when Milo’s eyes widen and stop blinking, I decide on keeping my tail back for now. His lungs are not strong right now and I don’t want to cause him any pain.
Wyatt moves to the head of Milo’s bed to stand and stare at me as well. No doubt remembering how he’d held onto the apex of each wing as he took me from behind, firing pleasure up my spine as he sent shivers down the membranes at the same time. Essentially turning me into a vibrating ball of need.
“It seems we’ve had our very own bodyguard from the start of these games, Milo,” Wyatt informs him. “Our very own demon to protect us.”
Garrick snorts and I have to huff to cover my own laughter.
“Maybe Milo did, but I remember how she beat you down when I first turned her loose on you all,” Garrick taunts Wyatt.
“Merely foreplay, right Mo Stór?”
“I’ll let you have the delusion Wyatt, if you’ll admit to me being the better assassin.” I move towards Milo again, pulling my wings tight to my back so they don’t catch on the footboard of the bed.
“We shall have to recheck the facts on that one. With your age and everything we need to convert to percentages, kills per day etc. or it’s simply unfair.”
I’d told Wyatt more of my truth as we laid in bed this afternoon, about how I am pushing five centuries, and how that isn’t old for our realm.
Milo takes in our verbal sparring and relaxes back into the sheets. His heart rate returns to normal, that is until Garrick comes closer, joining me at the bedside, but with some reassurance he calms once more.
We talk, all of us, filling Milo in on what he missed while he was unconscious.
I tell him everything and answer his questions.
Garrick opens up too, although in his own prickly manner.
Wyatt never breaks contact with Milo, one or both of his hands touching him at all times.
The way he looks down at him, his eyes shining with happiness, short circuits my thoughts a time or two.
Wyatt has always been full on, and it seems his love is no different.
Garrick’s fingers find mine, pulling my attention to his face. I don’t think I find anything negative there but I give his hand a reassuring squeeze and adjust my left wing to give him room to step closer to my side. He dips to lay a kiss to my forehead.
I know we might have a challenge ahead of us to find a balance in the relationships we’re developing, and especially as none of us has much in the way of experience with them, but I cannot imagine not wanting any of them to be a part of this.