Warrior Reborn (27 page)

“The loss of the child would have affected you also.”

“Of course.” Jason shook back the sick unease that thought generated.

“Not in the way you might think.”

Jason tensed and waited. It kept raining surprises.

“Guardian fathers are linked to their children from conception. There is…a special form of communication.”

Guardians
. So, there was a name to go with the superpowers. The tension on Grimm’s face indicated more. “This has happened before?”

Grimm tensed and nodded. “The loss of the mating link and the brutality of what his mate endured drove one of our leaders to the edge, even with Xavier’s remarkably strength and fortitude. This attack was meant to ruin lives. To rip a new hole in my people’s purpose. To plant seeds of doubt. It was meant to destroy you and your potential family.”

“Salvatore?” Saying the man’s name made his blood boil. More than anything Jason wanted details.

“One of our own. He plotted and murdered our people with forethought and cunning.” Grimm shook his head. “He knew full well the consequences and relished the pain he caused.”

Jason struggled to swallow and speak. “Not the first person to enjoy the suffering of others.”

“He is the only one in our history. Guardians do not harm other Guardians. Or their mates and innocent children. We are a people of a different purpose.”

Jason felt the pressure heat in his chest. The Guardians were turning out to be more than super human. They seemed too good to be true—with the flaming exception of Salvatore. Perhaps he was the yin to the Guardian yang. “You took samples of her blood?”

Grimm gave him a curious look, but tilted his head once in acknowledgement.

“Does she have a lab here?”

Grimm’s expression cleared. “Yes. It may not be what you expect.”

“Whatever is here will be a start. I would like a shot at isolating the drug’s composition once she’s well enough to be alone for brief periods of time.”

Grimm pocketed the sample he’d taken of Briet’s blood before the coagulant injection. “I’ll leave these refrigerated in her lab. I’ll help you with them once she’s stabilized.”

“I would like one taken now as well.”

Grimm nodded and handed Jason a fresh syringe from the drawer of the bedside table. Jason performed the extraction, handed the sample to Grimm, and turned back to slide his fingers along Briet’s face. “If this was Salvatore’s plan, it failed.” He looked up to meet Grimm’s stare. “When she thrives, he fails.”

Grimm smiled. “I would support that as an excellent plan. I know Ansgar would as well.”

A knock on the door sounded before it opened. A tiny woman with straight shoulder length brown hair and bright blue eyes poked in her head. “I come bearing soft, comfy sleepwear.”

“Ah, Mia. I will leave you both to make Briet comfortable. Jason, you should go ahead and rest with her. Keep physical contact with her.” He waved to the bed. “I’ll be back in several hours. If you need anything just call. One of us will be close.”

“Thank you—for saving her.”

“My ability only works if used. Still, it would have been worth little without you at her side.” With that, Grimm left.

CHAPTER 23

Jason leaned against the headboard with Briet cradled to his chest and closed his eyes. The need for rest beat in a dull throb of pain at the base of his skull. Instead of sleep, he replayed the events of the last few weeks, tormenting himself with the myriad ways in which he could have altered the current circumstances. So many choices. So many avenues to avoid Briet’s suffering.

No options presented to change the past. Apparently, that wasn’t a Guardian skill.

He opened his eyes. Ansgar sat a tense vigil in the chair beside the bed, his gaze riveted to his sister’s face.

“Grimm says she’ll be okay.”

Ansgar said nothing, didn’t even blink.

Jason stroked his thumb over Briet’s arm, reluctant for small talk, yet needing to fill the silence. “He guaranteed me that she would be unconscious only three more days.”

After a low grumble and a concerned look for Briet, Ansgar’s gaze swung his way. “So, we feel what, lucky? It’s not as if there’s some righteous reason for her not being pregnant.”

“I’m grateful. Otherwise we would have lost her.” However, Jason had no answer for Ansgar’s real train of thought. Briet was alive now because he hadn’t wanted to risk having children. Evidence of a surprise pregnancy distressed most families. Standard reason and judgment didn’t seem to apply to Briet’s people.

Over the last several hours, twists of logic had spun around in his thoughts. Time for doubt to spawn, finally winding down for Jason to an unsettling conclusion. If he’d allowed his relationship with Briet to evolve into a commitment sooner, she might have retreated to her tribe before becoming vulnerable to exposure. But she wouldn’t have left her patients. Given he wasn’t ready to believe her sooner, he would have risked losing her anyway.

No help there. Second-guessing was killing him, a sensation he hadn’t experienced for years. He felt vibes of a similar unsteadiness and disorientation from Ansgar

A stronger issue than progeny ran beneath the man’s anger. Some deeper concern Jason still didn’t grasp, so he pushed.

“There are perfectly happy couples living fulfilled lives without children.”

Ansgar paused in his glare long enough to blink. “You’re what, thirty-five?”

“Thirty-six.”

“How old do you think I am?”

Jason shrugged. “About my age, give or take.”

“I’m two hundred and eight years old.”

Jason pressed his lips together tight and clamped down any expression of shock. Briet had
casually
mentioned once that her family lived for a long time, but Ansgar’s numbers were science fiction.

“Xavier brought me here with Briet after our parents died of the virus. All the children found under the age of eighteen were brought to the Sanctum. I was twelve and she was six, when we were forced to survive here as children.” Ansgar appeared to wait for the numbers to sink in. “When you die of old age, my sister will look as she does now. She’ll bury you, continuing to live, alone, for eternity.”

“Immortal.” Jason swallowed hard as Ansgar gave a terse shake of his head. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or horrified.

“No. We’re meant to find our mates. Our one, our only mate. When we join, and begin creation of the only two children we will ever produce, a switch triggers in our bodies. The switch allows us to age and grow old with our mates, passing from this life with them, in the natural order of the world.”

A cold chill snapped into Jason’s bones with teeth. He got it.

Ansgar’s anger, the reticence he was feeling from Briet’s brother, the soft, perplexed look he’d received from Quan. He was Briet’s mate. By not choosing commitment with children, her people would assume he didn’t care for her. His choices relegated her to an eternity, not just a lifetime, of loneliness.

His reluctance, a condemnation, no different from the hell his father inflicted upon his mother. A different method of torture, and
never
intended, but the result of pain and loneliness, was the same.

And she’d known. Briet hadn’t pressured him, manipulated him or coaxed him to her way of thinking. She had accepted his reasons and his choices, giving up on her own dreams. Dreams he’d borne witness to as he had observed her with her patients. Her concern for Brian Paulson and Davis Randall’s happiness, not only their health, was obvious. Her despair over Annie Bremar’s death, palpable. Anguish, not just from a good doctor, but from a woman who gave parts of herself to the children in her care. Her desire to nurture, an integrated part of the woman she was.

The energy and love she offered, injected with determination for children who would benefit from her vitality and profit from her extraordinary skills.

Yes, her people were glad she had lived. Yet, it was obvious to all of them that her mate had basically rejected her at the most fundamental level and disregarded her needs and happiness.

The biggest irony—in avoiding his worst nightmare, Jason had turned himself into the person he despised the most—his father. Spending years shielding the baser nature of his background behind rules and walls, only to find the consequences had swung full circle. Would knowing the cost of his actions make the difference? Jason considered this new truth as he waited for Ansgar to finish.

“We raised each other, pieced together the lost bits of our history.” Ansgar looked at his hands and then at Briet again, as if Jason had become an insignificant reason for the tale. “We didn’t even understand our mates resided within the human populace until recently. Each Guardian carries a singular, specific trait, replicated only once in a generation to benefit the growth and evolution of
mankind
.” The last word he spit out as if infected with an unpleasant after taste.

“When we lose one of our own, we lose those gifts and fail in our covenant to pass on hope for humanity through the birth of our children.” Ansgar huffed, his eyes closed, evidently done with his speech.

Jason gave the man time to decompress before asking the question he dreaded. “Your children carry a legacy aside from the superpowers?”

Ansgar shrugged, impassive. “We were cherished as children. Our own will receive no less. My sister has given much for our people, for yours. She deserves to have her happiness realized. If you can’t do that, you should leave before she wakes. It would be kinder. She will love you all of your lifetime. Even that is too long to make her suffer.”

The man hadn’t really answered his question, but Jason wasn’t about to let the final challenge stand. “It’s not your choice to make.”

“No. It’s not.” Ansgar left without another word.

Jason sat there, his arms around Briet, her soft skin moving beneath his hands with each breath.

He wouldn’t leave. He couldn’t let go. He waited for the stifling pressure in his chest, the claustrophobic sense of dread, the voices, and the cold, clammy fear following the mere thought of commitment. The horror at the image of a tiny, helpless child subjected to potential rages.

Nothing. For the first time in years, he wanted—with desperation instead of dread. An emotion he was determined to fight to keep.

He slipped the small box from his pants pocket and spun the black velvet cube in his fingers. The impetus to buy the ring had taken him by surprise. He now accepted the compulsion, growing every hour, to slide the ring on her finger. The need for her to feel the cool metal on her flesh and still be linked with him ripped the air from his lungs.

Sparkles glittered from the tiny diamonds circling both edges in the twist of the platinum double-helix ring. With a gentle push, he slid it onto her finger, relief replacing doubt.

“I found this in a specialty store downtown. They show some of Manuel Sanchez’ work there.” He stroked over the graceful twists and edges twinkling on her finger. “The minute I saw this, I thought of you. It reminded me of your tattoo, your mark. I was going to give you this the night of the benefit, but—we got a little screwed up.”

He sucked in a slow, deep breath and brushed his lips against the curve of her ear. “I want you to wear this ring, to feel it against your skin. I hope, somewhere inside this coma you’re floating in, you know that I love you. If I’m not beside you every second, this rings means I’m still with you. I’ll always be here, Briet. Even if it scares the shit out of me.” He buried his face in the hair at her neck.

He looked across her still body, the stark reality of how close he’d come to losing her overwhelming. The briefest thoughts of her losing their child cut much deeper than he cared to examine. He shut the image away and looked back to Ansgar’s empty chair.

Something was going to have to change.

First, he needed answers. He checked his cell phone, waiting for bars to see if the Sanctum got reception and then dialed the number.

“Frank. It’s Jason. I need your help.”

***

The blade showed no sign of nicks, but Tsu ran the polishing cloth over it to double-check for snags and microscopic fractures. The practice session had ended, yet Turen had lingered, giving him an opportunity to fetter out how much allegiance the newest member of the Sanctum garnered. “Do you remember your parents?”

Turen raised his brow and opened his mouth to respond, but frowned instead. “Why?”

Tsu put aside the blade, holding one of the sparring staffs as he sat across from Turen on one of the hewn wooden benches. “Which of them was the descendent of our people?”

Before Turen could answer, Ansgar entered the training room with a loud snort.

Tsu gave him a look, the weight of Training Master effective for silence, even on Briet’s brother. The man took a seat on a bench and waited his turn.

“I look like my father, and we pass on the genetic features of the descendent. To the greater degree,” said Turen.

Tsu nodded. “My father was human. Keep in mind this was a long time ago, and we lived on the southern Chinese coast.” He shrugged. “My mother had the ability to control the weather.” He nodded to Ansgar. “Similar to your skill, but broader, not as defined. She commanded sun, rain, storms, and snow. Her abilities made the difference between bountiful harvests and poverty, and ensured that men returned home from sea.”

Turen remained silent. Ansgar just scowled.

“My father had difficulty accepting his wife. The woman he couldn’t help but love was more powerful than he was. Even with the added skills their mating brought to him, she had a head start.” He held up a hand as Turen shifted to speak. “It was his perception, not reality. He was a fair man, viewed as being of great worth by my mother, but burdened.”

The staff revolved quietly between his thumb and fingers, the motion attracting each of the other men’s gazes. “It took me many years after their deaths to understand how much he loved her, how much he struggled with her abilities. They died when I was only thirteen, but Quan has shared much with me of them over the years.”