Balanced Chaos (The Void Series Book 3) Page 11

“No,” she snapped. “Look, sir, Halstead reprimanded Werner for coming out of my room. I realize that from a military standpoint that probably wasn’t the smartest move, but I’m telling you n-nothing inappropriate has happened.”

  Sam stuttered over the lie, but hoped Gallagher hadn’t noticed.

  “Corporal Werner has been placed on my protection detail but he has gone above and beyond to become my friend. You want me to live in the admin building, to only go out under his watch, then you cut me off from my friends—what few I have—the people who have replaced my family. Corporal Werner was nice enough to provide me with some slight companionship rather than leaving me to stew in an empty room when I wasn’t in need of a protection detail… and there is nothing wrong with that, whatever Major Halstead might think,” she added as she trailed off, her righteous indignation spent.

  Sam glanced up at Werner, afraid she had once again pissed him off for trying to come to his rescue. He had his work-place mask on, and she couldn’t tell how he felt. She craned her head around to look at the colonel as they reached the parking lot where a military jeep sat, the driver waiting patiently.

  “Well, shit, Gollet, you sure do know how to make my life a mess. No, I don’t want you stewing in a room all by yourself. Werner… you make one false move and I’ll bust you down to private. You understand me?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Then you just keep taking care of our girl, and I’ll deal with Halstead. Probably just jealous anyway,” grumbled the colonel as he rounded the jeep and climbed in.

  Sam blinked at her own astonishment, while Werner took the steps of the admin building two at a time despite her weight in his arms, and still managed to get the door open.

  “You can put me down,” she whispered, afraid of how angry he might be.

  “You’re still shaking,” he replied.

  Sam assessed her own body and realized it was true.

  “Sorry.”

  “You lied to the lieutenant colonel.”

  Sam leaned her head against his shoulder and eyed his features, noting the blush creeping up his jawline. She had no doubt he was thinking of their kissing, and she felt heat rising into her own cheeks.

  “Like you said, with the big wigs ‘less is more’.”

  The smallest hint of a smile crept to his lips.

  “At least now we can be friends,” he said as they reached their hallway.

  Werner opened her door and freely entered her room. Gently, he set her on her bed. He rose to his full height and, for a brief moment, she feared he was going to leave immediately. Instead, he pulled off his vest and the sturdy belt that held his holster and sheath. Once they were removed, he knelt down beside the bed and began to unlace her worn boots.

  “I need to know what just happened to you,” he said, his voice coming out hoarse.

  “You read a briefing on the fae before coming to the Res?”

  He nodded.

  “So you know we have seven clans, each with different types of powers.”

  He nodded again.

  “That last fae to attack me was from the Értelem clan. Their powers effect the mind. He made me think I was in pain—agony, really. It wasn’t real pain, but it sure felt like it.”

  “So, no damage was done to your body?” he asked as he dropped her second boot to the floor.

  Sam took a deep breath and felt the prick of her fractured ribs. She ignored it and scooted until her back rested against the wall.

  “None other than the battering of writhing around on the pavement. My fractured rib didn’t really appreciate that much.”

  A slight smile twerked his lips upward, and he came to perch on the edge of her bed. Sam knew he didn’t intend to stay long, and she didn’t mind. It was late and they both needed rest after their long night. Still, she was loathe to be alone now that she knew the fae could hurt her.

  “Why did you tell me to shoot the beaver?”

  “After feeling its powers, I could tell it was a transmutating fae, rather than a beast conjurer…”

  “Wait, what’s the difference?”

  “A transmutating fae changes their own body into an animal. A conjurer brings a beast out of the earth, separate from their own body. What I do with their stolen power is very different. The stolen power of a conjurer is very helpful. The stolen power of transmutation is not very helpful. You shooting it to get it out of the way was the best option.”

  “And you could tell all that within seconds.”

  Sam gave him a weak smile. “I’m good.”

  Werner smiled back. “Yes, you are.”

  He shifted, as though preparing to go, but Sam grabbed his hand.

  “Philip,” she said, using his given name for the first time.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything to Gallagher.”

  Philip slumped back onto his backside, clearly ready to hear her out.

  “I just…” Sam looked away as treacherous tears pressed against her tired eyes. “I don’t have anyone else. I can’t lose you to whatever’s got Halstead’s knickers in a twist.”

  A playful smile turned Philip’s half grin into a full ear-to-ear beam.

  “I’m telling the major you talked about his knickers.”

  Sam started to laugh, the tears spilling out of her eyes and down her cheeks, but she stopped laughing as the movement hurt her ribs.

  “Don’t make me laugh,” she whimpered.

  “I’m glad you spoke up. To tell you the truth, when I was first put on your PSD, I was beyond pissed. I kinda thought you were an ass.”

  Sam gave him a little pout, which he caressed away with his thumb.

  “Then when Halstead reamed me for being in your room, and I wanted to throw up. I didn’t know if I could go back to just being your shadow.”

  “So, we’re friends?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  “Good.”

  “Now get some sleep.”

  “’Kay,” she said, settling in under the covers, still in her dirty clothing, as he climbed to his feet and grabbed his belt and vest.

  “Oh, and Gollet…”

  “Hmmm?”

  “You totally kicked ass tonight.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sam groaned as consciousness creeped toward her. Her dreams had been anything but pleasant, though now as she blinked the sleep from her eyes she couldn’t remember them. All the same, a general feeling of unease weighed down upon her, along with a need to see Jason. After all, she was supposed to be studying from him.

  Another groan escaped her lips as she pushed the blankets away and found the sheets sticking to her shoulder. She craned her neck, the muscles cramping with the effort, to find half-dried blood staining the shoulder of her dirty t-shirt. With another groan she rolled out of her bed and stumbled onto the floor, landing on her hands and knees. The movement pulled on her ankle. She looked down to see fresh, green puss staining her sock.

  A deep pain throbbed across her side, punctuated by the old stab of her fractured rib. Sam stayed on the floor, taking a moment to catch her breath before she dragged herself up to her feet, using the empty desk for support. Once on her feet, she leaned against the desk, not daring to put any weight on her injured ankle, while taking shallow breaths, the occasional whimper escaping her clamped lips.

  When she felt she had control of herself, she carefully pulled the leg of her faded jeans up. Sam gasped aloud, despite her efforts as the rough fabric of her pants scraped against the injury. Her ankle looked as it had the morning after the massacre—green puss oozed from burned flesh as though a third degree burn had become infected with gangrene. Sam didn’t even know if that was possible, but what her imagination came up with matched her ankle.

  Fresh tears escaped her eyes and rolled down her cheeks as she stared at the mangled limp. She leaned back against the desk again and carefully peeled her shirt up and over her head, crying out as it pulled on her shoulder. Just like her ankle, her s
houlder looked as it had the morning after her battle with the deranged group of fae where a conjured cougar had mauled it.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, trying her best to will herself not to cry.

  “Sam?” Werner called as he cracked the door open.

  “Ye-ah,” she croaked before swallowing, trying to clear away the constriction in her throat.

  “What the hell happened to you?”

  He stepped into her room and stopped short, seeing the damage in all its glory.

  “You said the guy who made you hurt only made you think you were in pain,” continued Werner.

  Sam’s eyes filled with more tears. “I thought that’s all it was.”

  “You need to see the doctor.”

  She began to shrug and stopped as it pulled on her wounded shoulder. “He can help with the shoulder, but there’s nothing he can do for my ankle.”

  Werner’s eyes dropped to her leg. “Why not?”

  “It’s magical damage. Human medicine isn’t equipped to deal with it.”

  The soldier nodded as his jaw muscles flexed. Even through her tears, Sam could tell that he was pissed.

  “Lie back down. I’ll have the doctor come to you.”

  Sam obediently allowed him to help her back into the filthy bed, stained with blood, dirt, and puss.

  At least it’s soft, she thought as she settled against the pillow.

  Werner carefully used an extra pillow to elevate her ankle and draped a single sheet over her body.

  “I’ll be back as quickly as I can,” he said as he slipped out of the room.

  Philip closed Sam’s door as quietly as he could, hoping she would fall back to sleep, even though it was pushing five in the evening. Neither of them had gone to bed until the wee hours of the morning, so it wasn’t a surprise they had slept the day away. His superiors wouldn’t mind. His only job at the moment was her PSD.

  A plan had taken shape in his mind the moment she explained about magical damage. The only question was whether or not the lieutenant colonel would go along with it. Well, that and if she would forgive him for it.

  But he couldn’t leave her in pain. Though she had put on a brave face, maybe even a gallant one, Philip had seen the deep, exhausting pain in her unusual white eyes.

  Everything about Sam was unusual. That was why Philip liked her so much.

  His ex-fiancée had been the standup citizen, the perfect wife-to-be, the “Betty Crocker” hostess, with the miniscule waistline, and the spotless housekeeping. Half the men on his squad had been in love with Jillian. And yet, in spite of all that, she hadn’t cared for him. Not really. She had simply wanted the right man to match all her perfections. Jillian had thought she had found it in Philip, only had she never truly gotten to know him while they were dating. After the engagement party on a yacht, Jillian found herself engaged to a man who liked to play pranks on his friends, work with the reservists on the weekends, and get cheap beer at the Irish pub after a long shift.

  And then the call came. His National Guard unit was called up.

  She had had enough. And to his astonishment, he was relieved.

  But then there was Sam. She wasn’t a standup citizen. In fact, if he dared ask, he had no doubt she had spent time in solitary confinement. Though Philip knew Sam had been intended for that crotchety boy Chad, he doubted she ever wanted to get married—she wasn’t the “Betty Crocker” wife-to-be type. While beautiful in her own way, Sam wasn’t the model-thin knock-out like Jillian. And yet, Philip suspected he would rather spend his life being surprised by Sam than with a perfect wife like Jillian.

  Philip shook his head as he reached the central hub. His thoughts were disturbing, and strictly against the admonition of both Halstead and Gallagher. He spotted a sergeant walking past and waved him down.

  “Sir, have you seen Major Halstead or the lieutenant colonel?”

  “Think I saw them heading toward the front.”

  Werner nodded and jogged away. As he hoped, he found Halstead, Gallagher, and Jeffery the vampire in the foyer.

  “Corporal, is something wrong?” Gallagher asked when Werner skidded to a stop just outside their small circle.

  Werner nodded. “I just checked on Miss Gollet, sir. She was more injured last night than we realized. Evidently that fae that hurt her through her mind did more than anticipated. All of her injuries from the massacre have devolved back to their original state. She’s bad off.”

  “Have you contacted the physician?” demanded the major as though Werner was an idiot for coming to them.

  “No. Sam pointed out that the ankle injury was done to her through magic and that…”

  “A human physician can’t do anything to help that type of injury,” finished Jeffery the vampire. “She needs my healing power. But she won’t take it. You heard her last night when I offered. She insisted on never taking powers from another person.”

  “Then we battled. She took powers when we were fighting,” countered Werner.

  “That was a life or death situation,” stated Jeffery, glancing between the three soldiers. He stopped, realization dawning on him. “You want me to attack her.”

  Gallagher and Halstead glared at Werner, their own understanding coming suddenly.

  “You can’t be serious,” said Halstead.

  “She needs the healing power of a vampire or a werewolf,” Werner said, a sick feeling twisting his gut; he didn’t like what he was suggesting, but it needed to happen. “And she won’t take power unless she’s being attacked. Jeffery’s power will heal her.”

  “The trick is getting her to take from me without killing me.”

  Werner looked to Gallagher. “Did she kill any of the fae last night, sir?”

  “No, they all lived.”

  Werner gave them a firm nod. “She’s being careful when she is forced to take someone’s power. I don’t think she’d kill you.”

  “Wait, are we seriously considering this?” demanded the major, turning to look at Gallagher.

  “I want her healed,” stated the lieutenant colonel. “Jeffery, this is your risk to take. I can’t force you.”

  “With all due respect, sir…” began the major.

  “Major,” interrupted the lieutenant colonel. “Your concerns have been noted.”

  Halstead pursed his lips. “Sir, you yourself have said…”

  “I have a perfect recollection of what I’ve said, Major. I want this girl healed and capable of doing her job, no matter who attacks her next out there on those streets. As we have seen, the next attack may well come the next time she steps foot outside the doors of this building. And yet I can’t put more men on her without disrupting the work she’s doing. Now, Major, am I missing anything?”

  Halstead dropped his eyes. “No, sir.”

  “That’s what I thought. Corporal, I have some paperwork I need to get done. Why don’t you give Mr. Digby a tour of the administration building? Let him go see Miss Gollet. They’re good friends, as I recall,” the lieutenant colonel said before doing an about face and stomping away. “Major,” he called in a gruff voice as an afterthought.

  Halstead glared at Werner for a long moment before following Gallagher out of the foyer.

  “What just happened?” the vampire asked.

  Werner understood. As Sam would say, “less is more.” Werner let out a long sigh.

  “The leader of a military outpost can hardly tell you to attack an asset,” he explained, crossing he arms as he stomach turned. “Can you think of any plausible excuse to attack her… anything she’ll believe long enough to get the fight started?”

  “She has to believe just long enough for her to make her first attack on me. Once she’s taken enough of my power, I’ll surrender… and pray like hell that she doesn’t kill me.”

  Werner glanced at the vampire—a man who had lived through countless American presidents. “You believe in a god?”

  Jeffery turned his ageless eyes on the soldier. “You don’t?”

/>   Chapter Thirteen

  Sam pushed the sheet over her body as her temperature rose in the enclosed room. Slowly, she began to wonder what might be taking so long. Philip spoke as though he would be back in just a matter of minutes.

  Maybe the doctor is with someone, she thought as she tried to keep her breathing shallow.

  Sam jerked, causing more pain to her battered body as her door crashed open. She craned her neck to see Jeffery standing in the doorway, his fists on his hips and all hint of the jovial friend gone. Slowly, Sam pushed herself up with her good arm until she could sit up, wincing when the movement caught her fractured rib.

  “Jeffery,” she said cautiously. What the hell happened between him and the colonel?

  “You did this,” the vampire said. “You brought me into this mix. I was just fine until I came to your rescue!”

  Sam just stared up at him, completely lost.

  “Then I come to this… this cell… and get ordered, that’s right, ordered to play nice with these humans. Told I have to organize the vampires to work with the guards. Can you believe that?”

  Sam frowned. She couldn’t believe it, actually. It didn’t sound at all like Gallagher. The colonel seemed inclined toward peaceful negations rather than ordering the locals.

  “Do you have any idea how hard it is for a vampire to stand in this building and not tear these humans apart?”

  Glaring at him, she replied, “Yeah, actually, I do. It’s kinda like how I feel every damn day, trapped in this box, surrounded by mystics.”

  For a split second, she thought she saw a glimmer of contrition in Jeffery’s expression, but the moment past and his passionate glare returned.

  “It doesn’t compare.”

  Sam struggled to her feet.

  “How dare you?” she growled, pouring her pain into her voice. “You don’t know what I feel or how hard it is for me to control my fae gift! How dare you say your struggle is worse than mine! You don’t know. Have I ever said mine is worse than yours? Have I ever elevated myself above you?”

  “Of course you did. Every time you strutted your stuff around Heywood’s townhouse. Every time you went up to his room, taking the place of those who had been with him for decades. But he had you. Why would he want us when he had the golden girl! But oh… you were so heartbroken, so long-suffering. You didn’t want to be his right-hand man. We had to feel sorry for you for being in the elite, we had to sympathize with poor, dear Sam…”