Lina 44
No. No, no, no, no. This wasn’t happening. I wanted to cover my eyes and ears and shake my head screaming la, la, la, la, hoping it would make it go away. I looked at Denny, who was impassively sitting cross-legged in an armchair in the corner. Why wasn’t he helping him? I knew tears were falling down my face, and wiping them furiously away, I centered myself. I did not have time to fall apart right now. He was hurt, and he needed me. I would not let him down. I would not lose him the same way I lost Ollie and my father. The same way I lost my mom.
I took a steady hand and checked his pulse. It was weak but still there. His chest was rising and falling in tiny sporadic movements. He was still alive. Okay. My first instinct was to call Jilsey. No, I would do this. I could do this. I scrambled to the attached bathroom, grabbing anything and everything I could find, wrapping it in a towel, and lugged it back to the bedroom.
I gently pulled Telor to the side, lying him on his back. He winced and gasped in pain before going still again. Bracing for what I might find, I moved the comforter away from his stomach and blanched at what I saw.
It was a bloody hole the size of a fist. That was just the worst of it. He had several smaller stab wounds that looked strangely round along his abdomen. I was pretty sure a few ribs were also broken. His face was busted and bloody, but those injuries looked mostly superficial.
Getting started, I flushed the crater in his stomach with some saline. Whatever inflicted the stomach wound seemed to have been made from something hot; the edges of it were cauterized so the bleeding was minimal. Deciding to be safe, I poured the bottle of vodka I found on the nightstand—yes saline, but no rubbing alcohol—into the wound. After gently dabbing it with some gauze, I swabbed it with some Neosporin and let it breathe while I attended to the other injuries.
After most of the blood was gone, he didn’t look so bad. But the bruises were starting to set in, and I knew it would just get worse. I covered as many as I could with Steri-Strips, and then cleaned his face and mouth, but there was nothing I could do for his ribs. Gavin broke a couple in a field exercise a year or so ago, and they told him they just had to heal on their own. I wrapped the big hole up with gauze and an ace bandage.
“Why didn’t you help me?” I asked Denny while I removed Telor’s shirt the rest of the way.
“Well, you seemed to have it under control. You needed to do this yourself. You needed to see how strong you could truly be,” he said, getting up at last and coming toward us. “But I will help you get him into bed. You’re not quite that strong.” He bent down and effortlessly slid Telor on the barren mattress.
“What do we do now?” I asked, sitting lightly on the edge of the bed.
“We wait. Cheyenne and Robin should be here any moment.” He resumed his place in the armchair.
“You mentioned Sera also,” I reminded him. “That’s Luck, right?”
“You are correct,” he answered, a little stiff. Simply mentioning her visibly soured his mood.
“You don’t like her.” A statement not a question, but he answered anyway.
“My job is to lay out and perfect the complexities of the future,” he explained. “Her job is to twist my plans around and fuck up my hard work. So we clash on the very basic of levels.”
“But she’s coming?” I asked.
“Perhaps,” he mused “She may decide she doesn’t care, or her cards in this game may already be played. I would not count on her assistance, but I wouldn’t decline it if it were offered.”
I snatched the bottle of vodka off the table and took a long, painful swig. Okay, it was more like a few gulps, but I deserved it. Denny watched me with disapproval. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
“I’ve had a very long day. I was kidnapped, almost murdered, and I’m covered in my soul mate’s blood. Don’t judge me,” I said, taking one last drink before putting it back on the table.
“Drinking is hazardous to your health, you know,” said a voice from the doorway.
She was gorgeous. She had the otherworldly look that I had expected from Denny. Truthfully, she was an older version of Cheyenne: long strawberry blonde hair with looser, more mature-looking curls, a tall slender frame with just a pinch of baby fat. Sort of like a pinup girl.
“Robin, dear, it’s wonderful to see you,” Denny said, walking over and embracing her.
“The little Guide you sent to fetch me was very convincing,” she said, smiling at him like an older sister would do to a brother. It made my heart ache. Ollie used to smile at me that way. “Tori will not be happy with you for consorting with her help,” she said, tsking.
“Tori is rarely happy with anyone,” Denny said with a wave of his hand. “Speaking of, where is the child? I assumed she would come back with you.”
“She had to go do whatever it is that Guides do. I try not to think about such morbid things.” She arched her back like a cat. “So, tell me, Denny—” She paused and looked at me for the first time. “—and human, what is so pressing you needed me immediately? Despite your notions, I do not simply sit around all day.”
She glanced beyond me to the bed where Telor lay. I hadn’t noticed, but my body had taken a defensive position in front of him, shielding him from her. “Oh, dear. This explains it. Maybe you should start from the beginning.”
“Telor—” Denny started.
“Not you. Her. I want to hear this story from her,” she said, pointing to me.
I didn’t hesitate or skip anything. I told her everything that I’d been holding back from Gavin and Jilsey: how we met, how I saw and heard him, how he turned me inside out and made me feel alive, how I did the same for him, the way it felt when he kissed me, how he told me he loved me before going to see Tori, how it sounded like goodbye. I said it all and then some. I said it loudly and clearly, without a trace of tears or weakness.
When I finished, I looked at her. She was staring at Telor, a sad smile playing on her lips. She gracefully walked to my side, silently asking permission to go to him. I stepped to the side, giving her full access to the side of the bed.
She cupped a hand to his unusually pale face. I thought he was starting to show a fever, but wasn’t sure yet. I wished Jilsey were here, to look him over and reassure me that he would be okay.
“Robin, can you save him?” Denny asked.
“I can, yes. But that’s not what you’re really asking,” she said, shooting him another smile. “You’re asking if I will save him. Tori and I have gotten on well these past few centuries, and you come in and try to screw it all up with a set of pretty green eyes,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air, pacing.
“They’re more hazel than green,” I said, my hand immediately flying to my mouth two seconds too late. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt, sir, or ma’am…Miss Robin.”
She had shock and maybe a little admiration on her face. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I said sorry for interrupting you. It was rude,” I said. Of all the times to not keep my mouth shut, I had to choose the worst one.
“No, no, I heard that part. What did you say before that?” The corner of her lips kept tugging upward slightly at the corners.
“I, um…” I cleared my throat. “I said his eyes are more hazel than green. They remind me of tornado clouds or gemstones. They have little facets of green, gray, blue, and silver. Even behind those glasses he wears, I can still see all the dimensions.”
She had stopped her pacing and leaned against the dresser with her arms crossed over her chest. She was actually smiling now. Her gaze skirted between Telor, Denny, and me. She came over to the bed and sat on the other side of Telor.
“Denny, I’m assuming you understand what I told you before still stands?” she asked him, glancing over her shoulder.
“Already done,” he answered. “As a token of our appreciation.”
“I will heal the wound where she punched him as well as the broken ribs. But I will leave the rest of the wounds. Maybe it will serve him not to do anything stupid for a while.”
“Will he be alive again?” I asked. “Human, I mean?”
“He should be one-hundred-percent human again,” she said, her voice soft and serious. “But understand that being a Guide has changed him. Becoming human will change him again.”
“Of course it will. Is that bad?” I asked, feeling a little lighter than I had in hours.
“Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t.” Her eyes locked with Denny’s and some silent communication passed between them before he subtly shook his head. Robin sighed and returned her focus to me.
“Stop talking in riddles.” I wanted to rip my hair out with the lack of information I was getting. “Tell me.”
“She can’t, because she doesn’t know exactly,” Denny intervened. “We don’t make a habit out of returning souls to their bodies. He has a corporeal body right now, but he doesn’t have a human body. Being human may—how do I say this delicately—return certain urges that he may have had.”
“The drinking,” I mumbled. It wasn’t me who kept him sober; it was the fact that he was still a Guide.
Robin turned me away from Denny and took my face in her hands. “You need to make a decision now. He won’t last much longer.”
He could be alive again. Human. My head spun with the possibility of getting to keep him. I took a deep breath and looked at him once more before I made my choice.
“Just save him, please,” I whispered to Robin, knowing Telor might not thank me for it later but selfishly wanting him with me any way I could have him. I had faith in him. He was stronger than he gave himself credit for, and I would prove it to him.
She reached over and placed her hand on the gash and practically wiped it from his body; all that was left was a faint pink mark. Something that Tori had said to me before bounced back into my consciousness.
“Robin?” I said. “Tori said something to me, when she had me. She said I was gray. What did she mean?”
“Souls who are alive have a white essence. Dead souls have a black essence. You and he are both gray. Like that Meg Ryan movie, where she goes to France and is stuck there because she lost her passport and is without a country. Think of it like that. Right now you are without, um, a soul bearer?” she said, slipping her arms into her coat. Wow, that was sort of wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. I figured she would at least wait until he woke up. “While you are both alive, your souls don’t belong to me. I’m willing to wager you don’t belong to Tori either.”
“What does that mean for us, though?” I asked.
Robin looked at Denny, who appeared to be just as confused as I was.
“You even each other out.” She chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment before she said, “I wish I could give you better answers, but I simply don’t have them.”
“I’ll inform the Score Keeper of this,” Denny told her.
“As if she doesn’t already know.” Robin had the same look on her face as Denny did when he spoke of Luck. “I’ll be around if you need me. I’m interested to see how this turns out.”
“Thank you. For helping me. For helping us,” I called out to her as she headed for the door.
“Oh, it was my pleasure. I’m sure it will be a gift that keeps on giving,” she said, glancing at Denny who gave her a slight nod, as she smiled with him conspiratorially. “I would find a place for the other Guide, if I were you,” she said, and left the room.
I spent the rest of the day tending to Telor. He hadn’t woken up yet, but his breathing was easier and more even. I sent Jilsey a quick text once Telor’s breathing had grown stronger. If it wouldn’t cause too many questions, I’d have had her come take a look at him. Denny had suggested we use the cover story that Telor was in a motorcycle accident to explain his injuries, but that didn’t explain why he wasn’t in the hospital if he was this out of it. I let her know that we cut our trip short, and I was curled up in bed next to Telor when Cheyenne came back.
I could hear them talking in in the living room. Denny had cleaned up the place, erasing all signs of Telor’s struggle. After checking that Telor was still out cold, I slipped from the bed and into the living room unnoticed.
“I will say this one more time: I am not switching jobs. I’m a good Guide. I like interacting with the world. Working for you or Robin will just shut me out from everything, and I won’t do it. You can’t make me.” She crossed her arms and stomped her foot.
I laughed just a little. Both of their heads turned toward me.
“Hey, Lina. Sorry if we woke you. We were just discussing some things. You should eat something. You haven’t eaten since dinner last night.” She pulled me toward the kitchen, setting me at a little breakfast table.
Last night? I guess it was already morning, late morning actually. Now that she mentioned it, I was pretty hungry.
“Telor is pretty fond of cereal. The sugary kind, so he has Cocoa Puffs, Lucky Charms, Trix, and Captain Crunch. Pick your poison, honey.”
“Let’s go with Trix. They’re shaped like fruit so I won’t feel as guilty about eating a huge bowl of them,” I said.
She smiled and showed me a Cool Whip container, raising her eyebrows. “Is this big enough for you?” she asked, and I nodded my head. “You two really are meant for each other,” she commented as she filled it up. She poured the milk, warning me to, “Say when.” I let her almost completely cover the cereal before I stopped her. It was cute of her to play mommy to me like this. “Like I said, meant for each other. I bet you drink the milk, too, don’t you?”
I smiled and nodded. I did drink the milk. It was actually one of my favorite parts of cereal. I inhaled my Trix so fast they didn’t even have a chance to get soggy. I thought about what Cheyenne and Denny had said today, the little things about Telor that they knew: his cereal-to-milk ratio preference, that he liked motorcycles and even had one. The unconventional start to our relationship didn’t afford us the opportunity to learn about each other like other couples did. There were so many things that I should’ve known and didn’t. The thing that hit me the hardest was that we might never get to make up for lost time.
Cheyenne and Denny had settled in on the couch to watch some TV show. I went back to Telor’s room and crawled back into bed with him. I curled up beside him with my head on his shoulder and his hand in mine. I inhaled his scent, and my nerves instantly calmed, not only from his nearness, but also from his steadily increasing color.
“I’m afraid,” I whispered to him. “I don’t like the mystery of the unknown. It’s why I study history. It’s a story that’s all laid out for you. You know the beginning, the middle, and the end. There aren’t any unknown variables. I’m afraid our end will be a tragedy that no one will even get the chance to read about.”
“Regardless of where our future takes us, I’m in,” Telor promised weakly.