The Savior

He was breathing hard. He was dizzy. He was lost and found at once.

Sarah’s lids slowly opened. And her smile was the sunrise he would never see outdoors.

Except then she frowned. “Why are you crying?”

Funny, he thought. It was the same question he had put to her before they had been together for the first time.

“Am I?” he whispered in return.

Without waiting for a response from her, he gathered her in his arms and sat them together on the tile, her in his lap. As she held on to him, and put her head on his pec, he settled back against the shower’s wall.

With the warm water falling on his head, his vision was blurry and he told himself the hot trails flowing down his cheeks and off his jawline were just the shower doing its job.

He also reminded himself that the click fit of their bodies was momentous, but momentary.

Their meeting of souls was forever.

No matter what happened next.

 

 

I’m not going to let you say it.”

As Xhex spoke in a pushy, kind of bitchy, manner, she was marching into the bedroom she shared with John. He was across the way in their bathroom, naked in front of the mirror over the sinks. He was poking at that goddamn shoulder wound, flexing his arm, turning this way and that as if attempting to measure the progression.

The area of infection—or whatever it was—was so much larger, there was no question it was getting worse.

“Did you hear what I said,” she snapped.

He stopped the prodding and looked over.

Walking across to him, she put her hands on her hips and was well aware she was spoiling for a fight.

“There’s no goodbye for you and me,” she announced. “So you can just cut that shit out right now. I am very aware of what you’re doing, checking in with the people in this household, going around, seeing them one by one or in groups. And that’s fine. But you’re not going to do it to me because I refuse to believe you’re going to die from that thing.”

When he lifted his hands to start signing, she slapped them down and shoved her forefinger in his face. “I am going to fight for you. I don’t know what I have to do or where we have to go, but that”—she jabbed her finger in the direction of the wound—“is not getting in our way. It is not ending us. And you need to get on board my fucking optimism train, John Matthew. I love you. You love me. We are survivors. Do you hear me!”

Her voice got louder and louder, and she might have even stamped her boot once or twice. But goddamn it, if your mate was giving up, sometimes you needed to kick them in the can—

They think they’ve found a new approach, he signed. Doc Jane and Sarah, the human. They think that maybe they can trick my body into thinking it’s in the transition again, and that as a result, my immune system will respond aggressively and kill the infection.

His hands moved super fast, his fingers flying through the positions—as if he knew damn well she was going to get on her high horse again and talk over him if he didn’t get the news flash out quick.

“Wait, what?” she said, shaking her head. Like that would help with her translating the ASL. “What about the infection?”

Sarah, the scientist, believes that my own immune system—if, like, properly motivated, I guess—will win. It’ll kill this. It’ll fucking stop it. They just called me.

It was the very last thing she had expected him to say.

“When … what …” She rubbed her eyes to take the sting away. “I’m sorry, I—did you say they’re going to try and put you through the transition again?”

That’s the plan.

Xhex dropped her hands. “Won’t that kill you?”

They’re trying it out on someone first.

“Who?”

Murhder. John reached for his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. Even though they’re kicking him and that human woman out of here, he’s still willing to put his life on the line for me. That is a male of worth right there.

Wait … what? she thought.

“He’s going to allow them to experiment on his body?” Okay, fine, totally rhetorical there. But still. “He’s got to be out of his mind.”

As soon as she said it, she wanted to take the words back even though she and John were alone. It just seemed disrespectful, after everything Murhder had been through. And P.S., what the fuck was he thinking?

But … what if it saved John’s life?

“I guess he’s determined to be a savior,” she said in a voice that cracked.

Without realizing she’d decided to move, Xhex went over to the edge of the inset Jacuzzi and sat down. When she still felt wonky, she put her head between her knees and breathed slowly and evenly through her mouth.

Holy shit, the world was going around and around … and around.

John came across and sat with her. When he put his arm around her shoulders, she leaned into him, which was not something she did very often. She had always preferred to stand on her own. But God … she couldn’t believe Murhder was rushing in and saving something again. Someone again.

Her mate, this time, instead of her. The male either had the biggest conscience in the world or he was determined to be a martyr. A rahlman.

“We’ve got to help him,” she said. “I don’t know how … but we have to help him.”

 

After Murhder dressed in some scrubs and left the patient room to go feed from a Chosen, Sarah dried her hair at the sink—and was interrupted when Ehlena knocked and came in. As Sarah cut off the dryer and got the report that the drugs were in early, she wanted to slow down time. Everything seemed to be moving so fast—which, granted, was what the scientist in her needed.

Her heart, on the other hand, just wanted things to go at a crawl’s pace.

“The powder is being compounded right now by Jane,” the nurse said.

“Okay. Is the OR ready?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you so much.”

As Ehlena left and the door eased shut, Sarah looked back at the shower and thought of what Murhder had said about the vein he was going to take from that other female. He had assured her that, as it had been at Nate’s transition, there was going to be nothing sexual in the encounter, and he had even invited her to watch if that would reassure her. She’d declined that offer for two reasons: One, she trusted Murhder; and two, she was liable to get jealous.

Even though, come on, it was a medical thing, like a transfusion, for godsakes. Still, now that she knew what it was like? Watching him do that with anyone else was more than she could handle.

Heading for the door into the corridor, she found it hard to leave their patient room. There just seemed to be such a hard divide between what she and Murhder had shared here and all the unknowns that waited for them—

Murhder opened the door wide.

She stopped short. And then jumped back. “You cut your hair! Oh, my God!”

Murhder brought his palms up to his new haircut, all of his red-and-black glory gone, just a tidy little trim left behind that was lighter than what had grown out for such a long time.

“What have you done,” she whispered as she put her hands to her mouth.

As he explained things—something along the lines of not having had a haircut for twenty years—all she could think of was Steel Magnolias. When Julia-frickin’-Roberts cut off her gorgeous mane before her transplant. Because she wanted to “simplify things.”