22. Nixon

Chapter twenty-two

Nixon

S leep sounds nice.

If I wasn’t in pain before we used the portal, which, let’s face it, I was, I most certainly am now. It feels like my limbs have been mounted to a stretcher, and all my muscles are being scraped off my bones with a rusty spoon. My insides feel like they were tossed into a blender and poured back inside my empty and desiccated chest cavity, only to then be tumbled across the ocean floor by the most powerful waves on earth.

And let’s not get started on my head.

So despite recognizing Arit’s concerned and worried voice, there’s no way I can answer him. The only thing I want to do is sleep. Maybe for the rest of my life. Which, at this point, doesn’t seem like it’s going to be very long.

I can just make out the sound of muffled conversation as my body is lifted into strong arms. I have no energy to hold on to Arit, but I do what I can to keep my head near his, needing that closeness at the very least.

I must pass out completely at some point because the next thing I know, Arit’s warm hand is stroking down the side of my face and he’s asking me to drink something.

“I know you’re tired and hurting, babe, but I need you to have a few sips of this tea. It’s supposed to make you feel better.”

I like the sound of that, but I just don’t have the energy to move or open my mouth. My entire body is buried under a million pounds of concrete.

“Please, love. I need you to try.” Arit gently repositions me, propping me up against the softest pillows I’ve ever felt. Like clouds and cotton candy, the perfect combination of weightlessness. “I’m going to spoon a little into your mouth, okay? All you have to do is lie there and swallow.”

That almost makes me snicker. I’d happily swallow Arit for the rest of time if I could only move my mouth and tongue. The fact that I only got to taste him once is hugely disappointing. He has such a nice cock.

My lips are parted and steaming lemony sweetness rolls across my tongue. It feels like years since I last ate or drank anything, my mouth as dry as the Sahara. But another spoonful of relief joins the first, and it’s enough to make me swallow.

“That’s it. Good job, babe. Let’s get a bit more into you so you feel better. We have a lot to talk about once you’re ready.”

More liquid rolls into my mouth, coating my tongue and swirling around my teeth. It feels heavenly to relieve the parched sandpaper dryness I have going on. Arit keeps at it, bless him, and even with the few swallows I’ve managed, I can feel the faintest traces of relief, like the noose around my limbs is lessening, and my head doesn’t feel quite so run over by a parade of steamrollers.

After another couple of spoonfuls, I somehow find the strength to pry my eyes open.

“Thank the cosmos,” Arit exclaims, dropping his head to my chest.

I want so badly to reach out and comfort him, but I’ll need another barrel of that witch’s brew before that happens.

“Hello, Nixon,” says a voice I don’t recognize. I blink a few times and finally focus on the figure leaning against the doorframe. An older woman is smiling serenely with her hands clasped together at her bosom. “It’s lovely to finally meet you.”

I have no idea who this lady is, but I’m not in any position to ask questions at the moment.

Arit lifts his head and meets my gaze, the relief and love in his ice-blue eyes obvious. “Hi, love. It’s good to see you. You scared me.”

I try to convey everything I’m feeling—my love for him, my thanks, my appreciation that he’s taking care of me, my relief at even the minor amount of comfort I’m gaining from that tea, the unasked questions about where we are—and Arit narrows his eyes and tilts his head to one side, studying me intently. I have no idea if he understands me, but I project wanting a kiss, using my eyes to ask without words.

Now a small smile tips the corners of his lips, and he leans in close, running his nose along the length of mine. “I love you,” he whispers, his breath its own balm to my fried soul, then kisses me, slow and sweet. When he pulls back, his eyes are closed. “More tea, then more kisses. I’m going to need you to be able to use your lips next time, okay?”

And my tongue? I ask cheekily.

Arit opens his eyes and pins me with a heated look I take to mean yes. “Tea. Now.” Then he slowly and steadily spoon feeds me tea until the cup is almost empty, and I can move my fingers enough to brush his thigh.

The pain has reduced considerably, and my hazy thoughts are becoming clearer. “What happened?” I ask, and Arit knows I mean more than just my collapse.

He sets the cup of tea aside and takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Apparently portal travel doesn’t agree with you.”

“Your portal agrees with me just fine.”

Arit smirks, using his free hand to run the backs of his fingers down the side of my face. “It does indeed. But my portal is part of me, whereas magical portals awakened by sorcery or divination are not as kind on the body and have no compunctions about tossing a being this way or that. Combined with your already weakened state, it was no wonder you collapsed.

“Ada was waiting for us and already had this room set up. We’re in some sort of underground housing built into the side of the hill. She says you’re going to be fine, by the way, though I have no idea how. And also, apparently I’m home.” Arit shrugs. “Who knew?”

“Home?” That catches my attention, along with that bit about my recovery. “Have you ever been here before?”

“No. He hasn’t,” Ada confirms in a somewhat pouty tone. When I look over, she’s giving Arit a put-upon glare.

She steps into the room just as Arit says, “Apparently I was supposed to visit. Again, I say, who knew?”

“Yes, well. You left me no choice. I had to take drastic measures. My apologies, Nixon. I did get you here though, didn’t I?” A proud smile transforms her face, making her look years younger.

I can’t help noticing the odd resemblance between Arit and Ada. Their striking pale eyes are so similar it’s kind of eerie.

“You did this to Nixon?” Arit asks, his tone dark as he glares at her over his shoulder.

“Yes. But I already told you he would be fine.” Her haughty air reminds me of the way siblings argue over who did what when one of them is about to get into trouble. “You’d think after millions of years you’d finally want a break and some downtime, but no, not you,” she says, waving her arms. “You just keep searching for him. Over and over. Lifetime after lifetime. Always searching.

“So, I decided the only way to get you to chillax was to change things up. Now Nixon can see you, you don’t have to search for him anymore, and you’re home. I’d say it’s a job well done. You’re welcome.” She sniffs, the self-satisfied lift of her chin making it obvious how she feels about messing with our lives.

I have literally no idea what to make of her declaration since I’m going to need a minute to process, but Arit, superior being that he is, has no such trouble. He looks back at me, glances over his shoulder again, and then stands and goes over to hug Ada fiercely.

If I wasn’t completely shocked, I’d probably get all teary eyed. I’m not sure who Ada is to Arit, but it’s obvious there’s some kind of connection there.

“Thank you,” I hear Arit murmur, then in another language he says something that sounds far more serious. When they part, Ada nods and repeats the phrase back to him. I have no idea what it means, but I assume it’s a more formal sentiment, perhaps from some ancient time gone by.

Arit comes back over to my bedside and takes my hand, his expression intense but his eyes hopeful. When he squeezes, I squeeze back, the tea working wonders on my aches and pains. “I guess this means I can finally stop looking for you.”

“So it seems.” I take his hand and press a kiss to the back, holding it against my cheek. “But I’m only just getting started looking at you. I have millions of years to catch up on, after all.”

The grin that lights Arit’s face takes my breath away, and he dives for me, laughing and wrapping me up in the biggest hug. I hug him back, almost totally over my ailments, and completely and utterly grateful to the universe for allowing our paths to cross.

Or maybe, I’m grateful to Ada.

But either way, I plan on making every second I get with Arit count. If his fate is to finally rest, I’m going to be by his side for all of it.