Chapter 53 Zion
ZION
On her tiptoes, Eislyn reached for the plastic crate sitting on the top shelf of the med supply closet in our main infirmary. “The answer is still no, Zion.”
Snickering at how short she was, I took the white box myself. And winced from the pain as the groove in my forearm stretched out. At least the bullet wound didn’t require stitches this time.
“Here you go, shorty.” I gave a pointed look at her currently flat belly. “Or should I say, shorties?”
She snatched the crate from me. “That will certainly not land you on my good side.” As she carried the box to the steel table in the center of the examination room, her high ponytail bounced left and right, left and right, like a pendulum clock.
“You have yet to repay me for dislocating Eli’s fingers, so I’m not giving you anything. ”
I hopped onto the corner of the table. The chill from the metal seeped into my ass as I pushed away her leather-bound notebook. “They weren’t even the good fingers.”
Sure, Eislyn might’ve had to set his bones without pain meds as Ilasall’s upped security hindered our efforts to re-supply.
But it wasn’t my fault Eli had forgotten how to fall properly.
The rule was simple: act like a baby. There was a reason why small children could run straight into a wall and walk off with just a scratch.
Or a bruise in the worst-case scenario. They relaxed at the moment of impact.
But instead of doing precisely that, Eli had decided to ogle Eislyn walking past our training rings.
I understood the man, but the idiot had trained with me for years. He should’ve known better. Which was probably why he’d clapped my shoulder and murmured Good fight after his defeat.
Eislyn removed the opaque lid obscuring the crate’s contents. “All fingers are necessary.”
“Not equally. These two”—I wiggled my second and third digits—“have an extra purpose that the other lack. Or has he not used them on you yet?”
She slapped my bicep with her notebook. “You’re insufferable today.”
I clutched my chest. “That’s such a nice compliment. Exactly what I was missing.” Spotting a large jar of candy they gave to kids afraid of needles, I reached for it. “Now, does this mean I get two lollipops? One for each finger?”
Quick as a cat, she seized the jar. “That means no candy for you.”
But she wasn’t fast enough.
I waved a lollipop at her. “Too late.” Untying the twine bow off the clear plastic covering the candy, I asked, “What about those special little drops that make my dolls lose their voices?”
The use of the neuromuscular blocking agent during my playtime activities in our underground had been Eislyn’s idea, and a freaking good one too.
The drug paralyzed all muscles in a person’s body, including their diaphragm, but didn’t affect their nerves.
My knife could sail along their tendons as easily as if they were butter, but no screams or fits of tremors would rock through my dolls.
Which would be a perfect method to gently nudge Ezra into talking. The traitor we’d called our friend deserved to feel the pain he’d caused before we graciously offered him a chance to speak.
Only that was all it would be—a chance. Not a certainty. A release or a quick death was not in the cards for him.
Eislyn swiped her overgrown chocolate bangs away. “My answer isn’t going to change.” Hiding the candy in the bottom drawer of her desk, she added, “I have none to spare. We need everything we have for critical cases.”
“I should’ve sent Eli to get it.” Pouting, I jumped off the examination table, my knees bent to absorb the collision force. “Where is he, by the way?”
“Off.” She closed the drawer, her focus lingering on the furniture. “He’s teaching a class on close combat with cold weapons.”
Eli wasn’t scheduled for a class this evening. He had four tomorrow, but today was his day off.
“You kicked him out, didn’t you?”
A smug smile bloomed on her delicate face. “I needed a break. He keeps fussing over me. He can spend the day helping Ava herd the stragglers in group practices.”
“What if I adjust his schedule so you have the evenings to yourself?” Ripping the plastic packaging off my candy, I discarded it in the trash can under the sink. “Will you give me the meds then?”
Eislyn pointed at the door. “Get out before I use our last vial on you.”
“You’re bossy today.” Backing away, I paused in the doorway. “Or is that the baby pulling your strings?”
Her tiny fists curled. “Zion, I swear to the gods, I will—”
I bolted out of the infirmary before she could finish the sentence. Eislyn was the size of my pinky nail, but she never missed an opportunity to rain damage on anyone who’d wronged her. That one time was enough for me to remember it for the rest of my days.
Rounding a corner in the hallway, I popped the lollipop into my mouth. Cherry exploded on my tongue, as sweet and tingly as—
Gedeon.
The circular lamps dotting the ceiling illuminated him as he emerged from his study. Warm light caressed the ripples of his upper body as he cracked his neck, the black t-shirt failing to conceal his muscular form.
I couldn’t help but recall how his straight waist would shift under my palms whenever he cornered me. How his ruthlessness jellified my legs. How I dreamed of his ass flexing under my touch…
Pulling the candy away, I slurped in the drool flooding my mouth.
But the loud sucking noise drew his attention. Gedeon advanced on me, prowling like he was about to jump me.
My feet welded themselves to the floor. The closer he came, the more prominent the dark circles marring his under eyes became, and—
He snatched the sweet from me. The bubble of red vanished into his mouth, and a heartbreaking crunch betrayed how his molars crushed the lollipop.
Mere specks of crimson remained on the toothpick-sized stick, the pitiful remnants drawing out my pout. “I only had one…”
An unyielding grip trapped my nape, and a set of thick lips smashed into mine. My palms landed on his pectorals, his muscles tense as he backed me into a wall. A sting exploded across my shoulder blades from the collision with the hard surface, but Gedeon’s groan consumed my grunt.
As his tongue transferred the pieces of the lollipop onto mine, I ran my hands up his back, savoring both the sugar with a hint of sourness and him holding my head, angling my neck to feed the electricity coursing in my veins.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he breathed into me.
Luxuriating in the razor-sharp fragments of candy slicing our lips, I grasped his hips. “Then don’t stop. Take it all.” To encourage him, I trailed higher, up his sides, my thumbs brushing his lower ribs—
He hissed, his features contorting.
I cursed myself for forgetting the apple-sized bruise darkening his flesh, the consequence of him dealing with the two soldiers who’d ambushed us at Conall’s compound.
Conall.
The kid who, together with Gedeon, had always pulled Damia and me out of trouble when we were teenagers.
Who’d slapped the back of my head too many times to count.
Who’d brought me to the infirmary after I’d burned myself on Gedeon’s order.
Who’d proposed the idea of installing a drain in our basement.
Who’d almost pissed his pants when he’d discovered me sporting a hard-on in our training rings, minutes after Gedeon had fallen on top of me. And who then had wished me luck.
Gedeon stroked my cheekbone. “You’re thinking about last night.”
I frowned. “Aren’t you?”
He gave a soft sigh. “I haven’t stopped.”
A clearing of a throat tugged our heads toward the intruder—a petite woman who could wield a scalpel with such precision you did anything and everything to avoid landing on her bad side.
Not backing an increment from me, Gedeon bit out, “What?”
The loose sleeves of Eislyn’s sweater fell to her elbows as she tightened her high ponytail. “I have everything ready for you.”