Chapter 41

Lauren couldn’t stop shaking. It all happened so quickly, and yet at the same time, she couldn’t stop seeing everything as if it was in slow motion. Dimitri lurching forward, the sound of the gun, her turning in time to see Henry falling back and collapsing to the ground. His eyes were open the whole way, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore. He wasn’t looking at anyone.

Vaguely she was aware of Dimitri talking with the guard who’d obviously shot Smithson, but she couldn’t hear them over the roaring in her ears.

Then Dimitri was at her side again. “Lauren—Lauren, easy now. How bad are you hurt? Is it only your neck?” he asked, his voice brusque and firm. He placed a balled-up wad of cloth against her collarbone where Henry had sliced the deepest, and it took her a second to realize where it came from.

She stared at Dimitri’s bare chest, fully coming back to the moment. “You just couldn’t wait to get naked again in front of me, could you?”

Dimitri laughed gruffly, then he pulled her against him, lifting her in one swift move.

“Wait—your shoulder!” she protested. “You’re injured worse than I am.”

“Bloody but not deep,” he dismissed her concern. “Henry apparently needed to vet his bodyguards more closely, but there was no faulting the man’s aim.”

He reached the edge of the swaying trees, then set her on her feet and dropped to a crouch. He picked up a small pile of weapons and equipment, stowing his gun and knife efficiently. He waved the phone at her. “He didn’t hurt me badly. He also didn’t destroy my equipment right away, the way he should have. So I had a suspicion he might prove useful in the end. As I proved useful to him.”

She swayed a little but stepped back from Dimitri when he stood. “Where is he now? Are you going to let Stefan and Cyril know?”

Dimitri grinned in the glow of his phone as he powered it back on. “Not yet, I don’t think. He deserves a head start.”

“But Henry...his other men?—”

“That we’ll need to address. But first, let’s get you out of here.”

The flight back through the trees was swift. She refused to let Dimitri carry her, because the wound at his shoulder still seeped blood, despite his clamped hand on it. Her own wound was far shallower, but he wouldn’t accept his shirt back until they reached the rover.

“Dimitri, you have to go to a doctor,” she said, trying to force her words to remain steady.

“Not necessary for either of us, though you’ll get the full workup when we get back to shore, so brace yourself for that.” As he spoke, he half-ripped, half-knifed his shirt into long, rough strips, quickly and competently instructing her on how to wrap his wound. The remaining cloth he used to form a neat pad, which he handed to her. “Pressure is key. I don’t have tape, but they will on the boat.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’ve bound up a lot of wounds?”

“Not as many as you might think.” He flashed a smile. “The ONSF are too fast for most of our enemies.” He looked up and squinted to the port, nodding once. “The speedboat’s here. Let’s head out.” The phone was at his ear as he turned, leaving Lauren to trail behind him as he connected a phone call. They spoke in rapid O?rois, and she found she didn’t have the heart to translate. She hadn’t lost that much blood, but suddenly—nothing seemed to matter anymore.

A curious melancholy settled over her, impossible to shake. She managed to keep her feet until they reached the boat, and with quick dispatch, her wound was reviewed, her vitals checked, and she was pronounced not likely to go into imminent shock. Dimitri left her side the moment she had the blanket around her, and the boat turned toward open water. She stared through the narrow windows as the boat picked up speed, and found herself drifting...drifting...

Seemingly seconds later, Lauren woke up with a start, blinking owlishly.

This wasn’t the boat.

This wasn’t a hospital either.

In the semidarkness, which was punctuated by glowing monitors, the room seemed lavish yet vaguely clinical, with a cart at her bedside set up with blinking monitors. Where was she?

Then she woke up more fully and jerked to attention as she recognized Dimitri by her bedside.

He was sleeping in a chair. The seat should have seemed too small for him, as large as he was. But he seemed to occupy the space perfectly, not ungainly at all, more poised, ready for action...even in his sleep. His shoulder was heavily bandaged—she could see the trailing edge of the white gauze beneath the collar of his loose button-down shirt. But he appeared healthy. Whole. As if he’d already healed.

Was that possible? She watched the rise and fall of his chest, and her mind was suddenly filled with too many images, too many impossible truths.

And is Henry really...gone?

She jerked her attention to the front of the room as a door opened quietly. She squinted as she recognized Nicki, who strode into her room without making a sound, her weight on her toes in that uniquely athletic way she had, always ready to dash off in another direction at a moment’s notice. Lauren waited until she was all the way up to her, then pointed to Dimitri and held a finger to her lips.

Nicole nodded, leaning down to keep her voice low.

“Hey. I figured out where they were keeping you as soon as I could.” Her eyes widened as she eyed Lauren’s bandage. “Girl, you know how to have a good time. They told me Dimitri was knifed.”

Lauren glanced hurriedly at Dimitri, but he didn’t stir. “Did they tell you anything else?” Self-consciously, she gripped the sheets hard, ignoring the dull ache in her shoulder. “Do you know what happened to Henry?”

“I know he threatened Maddie, and so you went after him. After that, they completely shut down about the whole thing, and I toyed with trying to get more information but decided I would rather see you instead.” She met Lauren’s gaze. “Is Henry dead? Did you guys get in some sort of actual fight fight?”

“I...” Lauren sighed heavily, trying to get used to the idea. “I think so, yeah. Henry’s dead.”

“Oh my God, girl.” Nicki reached for her hand and gripped it tight, the simple act of friendship nearly undoing Lauren’s control. As if sensing that, Nicki kept talking. “They all blew up when Dimitri’s call came through, everyone talking fast. I couldn’t understand them. They spoke only O?rois, of course, which was pretty annoying even if it is their native language.” She grimaced. “I plan to be on hand when they meet with your parents, because they’re totally going to have to speak English then.”

“My parents? Where are they?” Lauren endured an entirely new rush of anxiety. Did they know? Had they guessed? And what would their reaction be to Henry’s death? Surely they wouldn’t blame her.... She tried to remember the sequence of events on the island, but her mind slipped and slid over the facts, unwilling to focus. “Do they know I’m here?”

“In the castle, but not aware of your presence, no. Apparently you’re allowed to get a full night’s rest before you’re put through the gauntlet.” Nicki made a face. “Of course, here I am, ruining that. Well, me and the bodyguard anyway. Though at least he has the grace to stay quiet.”

Lauren’s gaze strayed to Dimitri. He remained asleep. “I tried to warn him away, but I also hoped he’d follow me when I went to meet Henry,” she said, unable to speak louder than a whisper. “I didn’t know if he would.”

“Well, of course he would. That was kind of his job.”

“True.” Lauren frowned, her appreciation turning into speculation. How much of the past few days had been a duty to the O?rois captain? How much simply a distraction? And why was he here, now, dozing by her bed, when there would be no way that anyone could get this deep inside the castle to attack her? Why was he with her at all? “Do you know anything about the watch Dimitri found? The one he thought was Ari’s? Did Stefan talk to you about that?”

“You’re so cute that you think Stefan talks to me. About anything. He’s the most closemouthed demigod I’ve ever met, no matter how much I want to get him naked. Again.”

Lauren blinked at her, focusing on the important part of the sentence. “Again?”

“Well, nearly. I might have challenged him to a swim-off in the castle pool once when he decided to read me the riot act about swimming in the ocean. I almost beat him too. But either way, totally worth it. You have never seen anyone so gorgeous undressed in all your entire life, I’m telling you.”

Lauren let her gaze shift back to Dimitri. “Well, I think I could give you a run for your money on that.”

“Totally different type of hot.” Nicki rocked forward on her heels. “So what’s going to happen now between you two, anyway?”

“Between us?” Lauren frowned, her heart twisting. “There is no us, Nicki. He’s a military captain of a country I don’t belong to.”

“And a demigod. And your bodyguard.”

“Well, that last part was a short-term assignment, one he executed very well. But now he’ll go back to his life. I’ll go back to my life.” The words curdled in her stomach. She hadn’t considered what life would be like without Dimitri. Which was stupid. She barely knew the man—demigod—whatever. And she knew only one version of him at that, the version that was designed to keep her in place on a tiny island by whatever means he had at his disposal. He’d chosen a very effective means.

But now that assignment was over, and they both had to get on with their lives. Him to serve his country and the royal family, and her to...do whatever it was she was supposed to do.

What was that again?

“Well, if you ask me, and—” But Nicki didn’t get to finish her sentence. The door opened with a sharp click, and Lauren’s gaze swung to see Dimitri now standing at attention while Stefan entered the room along with Cyril and the king and queen. When had Dimitri woken up? How much had he heard of her conversation with Nicki?

She watched Stefan take in the room, zeroing in on Nicki. A pulse jumped in his jaw, but he said nothing as Queen Catherine stepped forward quickly. “You’re awake, oh good. I told Stefan that you would hardly sleep the night away. You’re going to be fine,” she said, taking Lauren’s uninjured hand in hers. “We have the best doctors on the continent, though Dimitri tells me your wound should be sufficiently tended for the moment, as long as there’s no infection.”

“There won’t be.” Dimitri said the words gruffly. Queen Catherine squeezed her hand.

“Well, there you go, dear. Dr. Korba has spoken, and we should all be at our ease now, right? But how are you truly feeling? How can we help you?”

You can’t. No one can.

With those thoughts ringing in her head, Lauren removed her hand as quickly as she could from the queen’s without being awkward. She turned her face to Dimitri, her chin tilted to the right, her expression serene, though she felt like she’d lost all her tools and tricks. She was completely alone again, her shields torn away.

She’d gotten through worse conversations, however. She would get through this one too. The way she always did.

By distracting everyone.