48. Peter

48

PETER

M arina sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed. She tried for a casual expression as she watched Peter's preparations, but she couldn't quite hide her concern. She'd gotten better at masking her worry every time he left on a mission, but he could still read the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers twisted in the fabric of her shirt.

"The surveillance equipment is already in place," he said, hoping to reassure her. "We've been monitoring the estate for days. This is just initial reconnaissance."

"With a full tactical team," Marina pointed out. "That doesn't sound like just reconnaissance to me."

He paused, checking his gear. "We need to be prepared for any contingency. If we confirm there are children on the premises?— "

"You'll go in immediately." She nodded. "I know. And I support that. I just..." She trailed off, biting her lip.

"What is it, love?"

"I'm worried about what this new assignment will do to you. Seeing that kind of evil up close, day after day..."

Peter set down the earpiece he'd been checking and moved to sit beside her. "I've been doing this for a long time, and some of the girls we rescued from the traffickers were very young. Early teens, at best. So, this is more of the same for me. I can handle it."

He knew he could, but he also knew that it would leave more scars on his soul. It was difficult to accept that such evil existed in the world. It tainted the whole of existence and sucked the joy out of life.

Peter even had a hard time looking at young girls, and he was thankful there weren't many in the village. Too many times, it evoked images of other girls that he and his friends had rescued, and thoughts about all of those they hadn't and who were still suffering.

Knowing what was going on in the sewer of the human world sometimes made it hard for him to enjoy his everyday life and feel happiness. If he could, he would quit the force and beg the Clan Mother to make him forget everything he had seen, but he couldn't .

Strong males like him had to do everything in their power to fix what evil members of their gender were doing to the weak and defenseless.

It was his moral obligation.

Not that evil was exclusive to men.

As hard as it was to comprehend, there were plenty of females who either stood by and let it happen or even encouraged it, but there were fewer of them than their male counterparts. Women like that usually belonged to dark cults and were so brainwashed that they couldn't even distinguish between good and evil.

Luckily, he had Marina to replenish the joy in his life.

"I know you can handle it," Marina said. "You're the strongest person I know." She squeezed his hand. "But that doesn't mean that you have to do it alone. Promise me you'll talk to me about it. Even the hard stuff?"

"I promise," he lied, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Though some of it might be too disturbing to share."

"I grew up in Igor's compound, remember? I've seen some pretty bad stuff." Her eyes hardened. "I've been a victim, and I've helped other victims to heal. Don't try to protect me from the reality of what you're dealing with."

Judging by what he had seen, Igor had been a run-of-the-mill narcissistic dictator, but he hadn't been deliberately or exceptionally cruel, and he'd made rules that protected the humans in his compound, at least to some degree.

Peter didn't make light of Marina's suffering and what she'd endured and had to overcome, or the hardship everyone else living in that compound had experienced, but compared to what he had seen, they'd been lucky.

Naturally, he had no intention of sharing his observations with her, and he valued and respected her resilience and her determination to make the best out of a bad situation.

Marina was a survivor who hadn't let the miserable circumstances of her life keep her down. If anyone deserved the Fates' boon, it was her, and he was disappointed they hadn't granted her immortality.

He shouldn't be greedy and upset the capricious Fates by complaining. They had given him a truelove mate, and he was grateful for that. Perhaps Marina would be the first mortal who received the immortality gene through science and not ancestral descent.

After all, the gods hadn't always been immortal. They had found a way to modify their genes to make themselves live forever, and Kaia was working on deciphering the blueprints that had been stored in Okidu's cybertronic mind.

"Speaking of protection," Marina said, pulling open a nightstand drawer. "I have something for you. "

She pressed a small object into his palm—a silver medallion on a sturdy chain.

"It's Saint Michael," she explained. "Patron saint of warriors and protectors. I found it in the gift shop in Safe Haven and just felt like I had to buy it." She smiled. "The funny thing is that I got it before I met you, and it just rested on the bottom of my jewelry bag. I found it today and thought that you should have it."

Peter didn't believe in any of the human religions, and he knew that the trinket was just something someone had manufactured for profit. It held no power, but it was an expression of Marina's love.

He ran his thumb over the raised image of the archangel. "Thank you." He slipped the chain over his head, tucking the medallion beneath his shirt where it rested cool against his skin. "I will wear it on every mission."

A knock at the bedroom door interrupted the moment. "Peter?" His mother's voice came through. "May I come in?"

His mother had decided to stay in the village, and she was looking for a place of her own, but since she didn't want to live alone, it wasn't as easy as just getting her into one of the vacant houses. Ingrid was trying to find her a roommate.

"Come in," he said.

Catrina entered, taking in the tactical vest laid out on the bed with an expression Peter couldn't quite read. "I just wanted to wish you good luck and congratulate you again on the promotion. I hope the mission tonight is a great success."

"Thank you," he said.

His mother nodded briskly, her moment of sentimentality passing. "Well. I'll let you finish preparing." She turned to go, then paused at the door. "Be careful out there."

After she left, Marina squeezed his hand. "That was unexpected."

"Yeah." He chuckled. "I wonder who she's been talking to lately. Someone is coaching her on how to be a supportive mother."

Marina laughed. "Perhaps it's the Clan Mother?"

"Perhaps. I should send her my thanks. Also, for the beautiful speech at our wedding."

Marina nodded. "Is it customary to give the Clan Mother gifts? Should we get her something?"

He snorted. "The only gift you can give the goddess is your adoration, and she will take it with open arms."

"I have no problem whatsoever with that. My adoration for her is genuine."

"So is mine." He returned to his equipment.

The tactical vest went on first, followed by various pouches and holders.

"You know what's funny?" Marina said softly. "I used to dream about being rescued when I was in the compound. Now I'm helping my warrior husband gear up to rescue others."

"Life has a way of coming full circle." He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

When they separated, Peter refocused on the final preparations.

This mission was different from his previous ones—not just because he was in charge, but because of what they were facing. The intelligence suggested they weren't just dealing with regular criminal enterprises anymore. The possible involvement of Doomers added layers of complexity and danger.