Blood Vow

  Axe just stood there like a planker. He had no idea what the hell to do.

  Mary broke the silence, speaking up from the other side, her voice wavering. "I don't know how to repay you."

  "Nothing. I don't want anything, ma'am." Axe looked up, way up, in an attempt to create more surface area for his welling eyeballs. "I better go. I'm going home."

  "They're releasing you?" Rhage asked. "No offense, son, but you don't look well enough to be breathing on your own, much less going home unsupervised."

  "I'll be fine."

  The Brother laughed. "You sound just like one of us."

  There was another moment of quiet, during which Axe desperately tried to keep from leaking.

  "Come here, son."

  Rhage grunted as he sat up, and for some stupid, insane, inane reason...Axe leaned down with a groan. As the two embraced, Axe heard himself say, "What if I hadn't gotten there on time? That's what I...that's what I keep replaying in my head."

  "But you did."

  "What if I hadn't, though? You'd have died and it would have been my fault."

  Rhage let go and collapsed back against the raised half of the bed. "No, it would have been mine. We'll go into it later, but trust me, as someone who knows that pattern of thought well? It's the definition of stupidity to beat yourself up over something that fate decided was going to happen or not."

  "Yeah."

  "You know," the Brother exhaled roughly, "I'd like to tell you war gets easier. It doesn't. But you do get used to how awful it is. That much I can promise you. And hey, check it. You're starting out on a win. Better than having your ass--" He glanced in the direction of his daughter. "You know. With a broomstick. Plunger. Hockey stick. Tent pole. Tent pole. Tent pole."

  Axe laughed and eased back down into the wheelchair...which was both a relief and as painful as Rhage's pain-in-the-ass point--literally.

  And damn it, you'd think his thigh would appreciate not having to carry any weight? Why was it doing that heartbeat thing again?

  "No class tomorrow night," Rhage said.

  "Yeah, listen, is it true no one else got hurt, just you and me?"

  "There were some other brief engagements, but no one saw real action. The other slayers just ran off? It was as if they were afraid of getting sent home. I think the Omega's in some kind of flux. I don't know."

  Axe nodded like he had something to contribute to any kind of discussion about the Omega, the Lessening Society, or the ins and outs of the war. He really didn't. He'd just happened to be at the right place at the right time tonight and hadn't fucked everything up.

  He felt like people were making him out to be some kind of hero--and he was anything but.

  He alone knew exactly what a lie that was.

  "So, ah, I'm going to take off now. Dr. Manello's driving me back home."

  "You sure that's a good idea, son?"

  Axe glanced at Rhage's family. "I, um...I got someone waiting for me."

  Rhage's smile was slow and knowing. "Well, good for you, son."

  "Too good for me, is more like it."

  "Oh, I know that one. Again, I'll say, trust me."

  Axe nodded at the two females and then started rolling himself back from the bed so he could K-turn and--

  The little girl came around and stood in front of him. She was so tiny and frail looking, with wrists that seemed no bigger than one of his fingers and shoulders that were barely wider than the span of his palm. But her lovely brown eyes were bright and intelligent and her hair was thick and shiny. In her leggings and her cozy red Christmas sweater with its snowflake pattern...

  ...she was more terrifying than a pack of lessers.

  What if he broke her? And not that anyone was asking him to pick her up. But what if, like, he breathed the wrong way, and she shattered like glass?

  Well...for one thing, half dead or not, Rhage would get out of that bed and turn him into floor polish.

  "Ahhh..." Axe glanced to the parents in a panic. "Ahhh..."

  "Can I give you a hug? For saving my father?" the little one said.

  Axe immediately looked at Rhage again. And yeah, Axe might possibly have shaken his head back and forth real tight. Kind of like you would if someone said, Hey, how'd you like to hold this snapping turtle? Or...How about you volunteer for malaria? Or the all-popular, How about you jump into this alligator-infested cesspool?

  With pork chops tied around your neck and a rib roast shoved down your--

  Axe frowned. Mary and Rhage both seemed like somebody had died all of a sudden. What the hell?

  Jeez, he didn't want to offend them.

  He glanced back at the tiny female. "Ah...um, yeah. Sure--"

  The kid was on him the next moment, her surprisingly strong hold taking his breath away. Reaching up, he patted her bird-like shoulder blades.

  And then froze as she whispered in his ear, "He saved my life. I wish I could do what you did for him someday."

  She broke away from him just as quickly as she'd come at him, and it was weird. In the center of his chest, he felt this bizarre kernel of...he didn't know what it was. But it was warm and seemed like the complete opposite of the freezing-cold self-hatred he usually carried around behind his sternum.

  The kid went back to her parents. And before shit got even more too-much-emotion than it already was, Axe gave the family one last wave--and then the little girl had to come over again and open the door for him because he had no idea how to get out of the room without help.

  Dr. Manello was outside in the corridor. "You ready?"

  "Yeah."

  "Let's do this."

  The pair of them ambulated together, the good doctor on his feet in some kind of fancy loafers, him in his ass cruiser that had wheels that squeaked on the polished floor.

  For the trip to the cottage, Dr. Manello made him ride in the back of the RV, in the surgical bay, because the front of the thing didn't have tinted windows.

  And Axe was more than fine without knowing the precise location of the training center.

  It gave him time to think.

  For some reason, that shit Rhage said was sticking in his head.

  It's the definition of stupidity to beat yourself up over something that fate decided was going to happen or not.

  Axe groaned and rubbed his eyes. God, he was tired--

  --

  "Hey, we're here."

  Axe jumped--and promptly cursed as his body lit up with agony, all of his pain receptors simultaneously firing.

  Dr. Manello was in the back of the RV, standing over the wheelchair. "You want me to help get you out?"

  "No." Axe gritted his teeth and put his palms on the padded armrests. "I'll do it."

  The surgeon stepped back, those keen, miss-nothing eyes of his checking for all kinds of organ and structural failures as Axe managed to haul himself up onto his two feet.

  "You can keep the johnny and the slippers. Hell, take the wheelchair--please."

  Axe grunted as he shuffled to the rear doors. "Like they're door prizes? And yeah, I'm leaving the chair."

  As the surgeon hopped around with admirable ease and opened the rear doors, Axe felt like he was a hundred and eighty thousand years old. But he managed to get himself to the ground with only a little help...and then he was doing the old man over to--

  Why was there smoke coming out of the cottage's chimney?

  It was only three in the morning?

  Shoving all of his owies aside, he focused on who was in his house--yup, it was his Elise.

  Not that she was his.

  Guess she had decided to come early--

  "You got this?" the surgeon asked, puffs of white breath leaving his mouth in the cold. "You want me to help you get settled in there?"

  "No, thanks, Doc." Axe looked at the human and put out his palm. "I owe you a lot."

  "Yup, you do. But the service with a smile is free. Just make sure you come see me first thing at nightfall, 'kay? I know there isn't class, but we've go
t to take those stitches out."

  "Deal."

  After they clapped hands, the surgeon shut his mobile unit back up, and took off while Axe headed for the front door.

  Crap. He could have used a minute to brush his hair and his teeth before he saw Elise. And then there were all the bandages....

  Ha, and she thought that cut by his eye had been a thing.

  At least she couldn't accuse him of not keeping things between them spicy. Or at the very least...surprising.

  motions were tricky little devils.

  A lot of the time, Elise knew, when you had something happen that was upsetting, shocking, or disorienting, you got through whatever it was--the confrontation, the abuse, the bad news, the accident that was your fault or maybe someone else's--and came out the other side feeling relieved it was over.

  But then the stewing started.

  As she sat in front of the fire that she had set hours ago in Axe's hearth, she stared at the yellow and orange flames and replayed her aunt's "maternal" monologue over and over again. God...it was as if her brain had grooves in it and her thoughts were the stuck needle on the record.

  Even after having broken-and-entered into this house that was not hers--granted, the front door had not been locked--and in spite of sitting here, in the very place Axe and she had nearly made love the night before, all she could see and hear was what had happened in that closet--

  The sound of an engine outside the little house had her leaping to her feet, and for a moment, she panicked, thinking her father had somehow found out where she was--but then she sensed Axe's presence, the blood he had given her once again a homing beacon she was so glad to have.

  Except what if he were angry that she'd come so early? It must be three? Three-thirty? Which was less of a problem than the fact that she'd arrived here just before midnight.

  Hopefully, he wouldn't be--

  The door swung wide, and as Axe lurched in, she clapped a palm over her mouth so she wouldn't scream. Throwing out a hand blindly, she caught herself against the hearth's warm face.

  Axe was dressed in a hospital johnny, his bare legs plugged into a pair of slippers. He was walking as if he were in great pain, and there were bandages visible on his biceps and his shoulder--undoubtedly in other places, too.

  But that wasn't the worst of it. His face was lashed with scars, as if he had gotten too close to a series of knives or maybe barbed wire.

  He stopped as he saw her reaction. "That bad, huh?"

  "Oh, God..." She ran to him with her arms out, and then pulled up short. "Where aren't you hurt? What happened!"

  Before he could stop her, she stepped to his side and put a supporting arm around his waist. "Lean on me."

  She was surprised when he did. And that scared her almost as much as the sight of his face did.

  "Come by the fire." She said this even though she was heading in that direction. "Did you break out of the hospital? How did they let you leave?"

  Over at the pallet, she helped him ease down, the firelight licking over him, hopefully giving him warmth. And as soon as he was even partially settled, she jumped up and rushed over to close the door.

  "May I bring you anything?" she said as she returned and crouched beside him.

  All he did was look up at her, his eyes softening, the strain in his face relaxing. "I have everything I need right here."

  As he reached up to stroke her cheek, she met him more than halfway so he wouldn't have to work for the contact.

  "What happened, Axe?"

  "It doesn't matter." His fingertips drifted over her jaw, her throat. "And nothing hurts anymore."

  She looked down his body and cursed. The johnny's hem had risen up, and there was a thick bandage around his thigh. Also, a bulge under his opposite arm, right where his ribs were. And oh, dear Lord, that face.

  "Am I that ugly?" he whispered.

  "Never. Not to me."

  "It's okay, you can say it. You like the truth, remember?"

  All Elise could do was shake her head, because her eyes were watering and her hands had started to tremble and everything seemed to crash down on her at once.

  "I'm all right," he murmured. "Come here, lie beside me."

  Elise stretched out and propped herself up on her elbow. "You're not going to tell me what happened, are you."

  "It's just not important."

  "Yes, it is."

  But he clammed up. And simply stared at her.

  "I wish there was something I could do," she said.

  "There is."

  "What?"

  "Get my toothbrush, toothpaste, and a cup of water from upstairs? I'd love to brush my teeth."

  For a second, she thought he was kidding. And then she smiled because it did make her feel useful.

  "Anything else?" she said as she sat up.

  "Yes, but I'll tell you after I floss."

  Elise blinked. And then shook her head. "You're not...you're not coming on to me, are you?"

  "Does it offend you?"

  She laughed in a burst. "No, not at all. It's just, in case you haven't noticed, you're half dead."

  Axe started to smile, and it was a beautiful thing to see. "Not even close, female. Not even close."

  --

  It was amazing how a change in scenery could perk a male up.

  When Elise came back downstairs and knelt by him with the requested minty-fresh delivery system and a glass of rinse-out, you want to talk about a morphine drip? Only without the opiate and no tubing? He felt absolutely no pain whatsoever.

  "Why don't I get this set for you?" she said, holding up the brush and the tube.

  When he nodded, she got to work, her head angling down, her hair, which had been pulled back in a ponytail, slipping off her shoulder and hanging forward as she concentrated on getting a line of Crest on his bristles.

  Okay, that sounded dirty.

  Then again, in his current mood, he could take anything as innocent as popping the top on the tube or rolling from the bottom or even her taking his brush firmly in hand, and turn it into full-tilt XXX--

  "How are we going to do this?" she asked.

  Axe looked down his body, and answered in his head, Lift up my gown and straddle me after you get naked. Then ride me like the bull I am.

  Wow. The romance.

  "I'll hold my head up. And--" He hissed and let the deadweight at the top of his spine fall back to the ground. "Damn it--"

  Elise's smile appeared right over him. "Open wide."

  As he complied, the cool, refreshing flavor was completely overshadowed by her scent, her beauty, his need. She ended up rinsing the toothbrush out in the water over and over, getting the paste from his mouth that way--and if the end result was a little gritty, at least he didn't taste old blood.

  And neither would she.

  Elise moved the glass and the brush to the side and pulled the sleeve of her simple fleece down over the heel of her palm so she could wipe his mouth.

  "How's that?"

  "Am I too banged up to kiss?"

  "No," she breathed.

  She leaned back over him, but he stopped her. "Will you free your hair?"

  Something about that memory of it whipping around the human male outside the steakhouse was still with him, and he wanted to own that stretch of wonder and magic that some other chump had had with her, take it away from the human, stamp it as his.

  Plus he loved the smell of her shampoo.

  As she pulled the band free and returned to him, soft waves framed his face...and then her lips were brushing his and he was using all his strength to rest his hands on her upper arms.

  "You can lay on me," he said into her mouth.

  "Where are you hurt?"

  "Just stabbed in the side, no big deal--"

  She jerked up. "What--"

  Axe waved his hand back and forth. "It's not a problem."

  "Let me see."

  Hmmmmmm. If she stripped him, she'd get a really good picture of how bad it h
ad been. On the other hand, hello. Nakey.

  His conscience spoke up. "Ah, I'm not wearing anything under this. I mean, like...nothing."

  Her eyes grew hooded. "That's all right with me."

  Axe's hips rolled at that sexy tone of hers. "Then cut the damn thing off me. There are scissors in the kitchen. By the stove."

  The sound of her walking through the little house, just as when she'd gone upstairs, made him realize how empty it usually was--and also how quiet everything was here in the sticks: Out in this rural part of Caldwell, there was no ambient noise from late-night city traffic, no extra light from buildings or streetlights, no neighbors too close.

  Funny, he had never had much of an opinion about the property before...but he liked the solitude.

  Especially with her around.

  "I'll be careful," she said as she came back in and got down on her knees next to him. "I think I'm going to have to start at the bottom."

  His breath caught and then started to pump. "Elise?"

  "What?" she asked as she moved down to the hem with the blades.

  "You realize I'm..."

  It was funny that a male like him, who'd done just about every sexual thing that was physically possible, often in front of crowds of people, was suddenly pulling the shy-guy routine. But the difference was, he wanted Elise to like the way he looked. In the other situations, he hadn't given a shit.

  "You're what," she whispered. "I want to hear you say it."

  "I'm hard," he moaned. "For you."

  Yes, it was the least sexy thing in the world to have a hospital patient say that to a female...to have some battered, bunged-up, stitched-together Frankenstein of a guy tell you that the one part of him that wasn't bruised was ready and rearing to go.

  But for whatever reason, she didn't care about all the oh-so-uglies.

  Her smile was one for the ages.

  "Well, then I'm going to have to do something about that, aren't I," she murmured.

  His cock twitched like it was doing sit-ups as she went to work, the silver scissors shiny and reflecting the firelight, the blades flashing as she started to cut. Right at the center of the gown.

  The slicing sound of those two sharp halves coming together over and over again so close to his erection made him nearly orgasm. And then she was right where the action was.

  She ran those scissors directly up the length of his erection.

  Grabbing on to the blankets, fisting them hard, Axe kicked his head back, gritted his teeth, and groaned, "I'm coming--oh, fuck..."