Lover Mine

SIXTY-NINE

Xhex woke up alone in the room off the OR, and yet she sensed that John wasn’t far.

The draw to find him gave her the strength to push herself up and swing her legs off the bed. As she waited for her heart to stop thumping from the effort, she noticed dimly that her hospital johnny had hearts on it. Little pink and blue hearts.

She couldn’t even marshal up the energy to be offended. Her side was killing her and her skin was prickling all over. And she had to get to John.

Glancing over, she saw that the IV in her arm was plugged into a bag that hung off the bed’s monitoring headboard. Crap. What she needed was one of those rolling poles they used to put ’em on. Could have used the help with the whole balance-while-upright thing.

When she finally put some weight on her feet, she was relieved to find she didn’t face-plant right away. And, after a moment of orientation, she slipped the bag of fluids free and carried it with her, giving herself a pat on the back for being such a good little patient.

Thing was kind of like a handbag. Maybe she’d start a new trend.

She took the door that led directly out into the corridor, as opposed to going through the OR. After all, the episode with Doc Jane and John’s procedure had helped her phobia, but she had quite enough to deal with at the moment and the last thing she needed was to walk into another operation—and God only knew what they were doing to that poor female who’d been rolled in after her.

Xhex stopped with one foot into the hallway.

John was all the way down by the office, standing outside the glass door and facing the wall across from it. His eyes were locked on the fissures that ran through the concrete and his emotional grid was dimmed to the point where it left her instincts squinting.

He was in mourning.

He didn’t know for sure whether she had lived or died... yet he felt as if he had already lost her.

“Oh... John.”

His head snapped toward her. Shit, he signed, hustling down to her. What are you doing out of bed?

Xhex started to walk in his direction, but he got to her first, rushing up as if he were going to scoop her into his arms.

She held him off, shaking her head. “No, I’m steady—”

At which point, her knees buckled and he was all that kept her from hitting the floor... which reminded her of being in that alley and Lash stabbing her.

John was what had saved her from falling back then, too.

With smooth strength, he carried her back into the recovery room, easing her down on the bed and rehanging her IV bag.

How’re you feeling? he signed.

She stared up at him, seeing him for all he was, the fighter and the lover, the lost soul and the leader... the bonded male who was nonetheless prepared to let her go.

“Why’d you do it?” she said through an aching throat. “Back in that alley. Why did you let me kill him?”

John’s vivid blue eyes locked on hers as he shrugged. I wanted you to have that. It was more important for you to have the... closure, I guess it’s called. There’s a lot of shit in this world that never comes back around right and you deserved the satisfaction.

She laughed a little. “In a weird way... it’s the most considerate thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

A faint blush hit his cheeks, and juxtaposed against his square jaw, it was pretty damned appealing. But then, what part of him wasn’t?

“So, thank you,” she murmured.

Well, you know... you’re not exactly the kind of female a guy would get flowers for. Sort of limits my options.

Her smile faded. “I couldn’t have done that without you. You realize that. You made it happen.”

John shook his head. The mechanics don’t matter. The job got done in the right way, by the right person. That’s all that counts.

She thought back to him holding Lash down flat, pinning the fucker to the pavement to give her the best shot. Short of putting the bastard on a silver plate and shoving an apple in his mouth, John couldn’t have served her captor up any better.

He had presented her enemy to her. He’d put her needs before his own.

And as she thought about all their ups and downs, that was the one constant, wasn’t it. He always put her first.

Now Xhex was the one shaking her head. “I think you’re wrong. The mechanics were everything... are everything.”

John just shrugged again and glanced at the door he’d brought her in through. Listen, do you want me to get Doc Jane or Ehlena? Do you need food? Help to the loo?

Annnnnnnnnnnnd there it was again.

Xhex started laughing... and once she lit off, she couldn’t seem to stop, even as her side began to holler and red tears sprang to her eyes. She knew John was looking down at her like she’d lost her mind and she couldn’t blame him. She too heard the high note of hysteria coming out of her mouth... and what do you know, not long thereafter, she wasn’t laughing; she was weeping.

Covering her face with her hands, she just sobbed until she couldn’t breathe, the emotional explosion so great that there was no sucking it up or trying to keep it in. She just fell apart and for once didn’t fight the unraveling.

When she finally eased into the station at Get-a-grip-ville, she was entirely unsurprised to find a box of Kleenex right in front of her... courtesy of John’s hand.

She snapped a tissue free. And then promptly went back for seconds and thirds: After that show, cleanup was going to take a lot more than one.

Hell, on that theory, maybe she should just use the sheets on the bed.

“John...” She sniffled as she mopped her eyes, and that, coupled with all the little hearts she was wearing, pretty much sealed the deal on her nancy status. “I have to say something to you. It’s been a long time in coming... so long. Too long.”

He grew so still he didn’t even blink.

“God, this is hard.” More with the frickin’ sniffles. “You wouldn’t think three little words would be so hard to say.”

John’s exhale was loud—like someone had punched him in the solar plexus. Funny, she felt the same way. But sometimes, in spite of the waves of nausea and a crushing sense of suffocation, you had to speak what was in your heart.

“John...” She cleared her throat. “I...”

What, he mouthed. Just tell me. Please... just say it.

She straightened her shoulders. “John Matthew... I’m such an ass-hat.”

As he blinked and looked like his mouth was about to unhinge, she sighed. “Guess that’s four words, huh.”

Well, yes... that was four words.

God, for a second there... John forced his head to get back to reality—because only in a fantasy would she ever I-love-you him.

You’re not an asshole, he signed. Hat, I mean.

She sniffled some more and the sound was just too fucking adorable. Shit, the sight of her was too adorable. Lying back against the thin pillows, with crumpled tissues all around her, and her face flushed, she seemed so fragile and lovely, almost soft. And he wanted to take her into his arms, but he knew she liked her space.

Always had.

“I so am one.” She snatched out another tissue, but instead of using it, she folded the thing into precise squares, halving it and then quartering it, then working some triangles until it was nothing but a tight wedge between her fingers.

“Can I ask you something?”

Anything.

“Can you forgive me?”

John recoiled. For what?

“For being a hardheaded, narcissistic, single-minded, emotionally repressed nightmare? And don’t tell me that I’m not.” She sniffed again. “I’m a symphath. I’m good at reading people. Can you ever forgive me?”

There’s nothing to forgive.

“You’re so wrong.”

Then color me used to it. Have you seen the fools I live with?

She laughed and he loved the sound. “Why have you hung in with me through everything—wait, maybe I know the answer to that one. You can’t choose who you bond with, can you.”

Her sad voice trailed off.

As Xhex’s eyes stayed locked on that Kleenex in her hand, she started to unfold what she had done to it, opening up the shapes she’d made from its corners and flat stretches.

He brought up his hands, getting ready to sign—

“I love you.” Her gunmetal gray stare lifted to his. “I love you and I’m sorry and thank you.” She laughed in a short, harsh burst. “Check me out, being all ladylike.”

John’s heart thumped so loudly in his ribs, he nearly glanced out in the hallway to see whether a marching band was going by.

Xhex’s head eased back onto the pillows. “You’ve always done the right thing by me. I’ve just been too wrapped up in my own drama to be able to accept what’s been in front of me the whole time. That or too much of a wimp to do anything about it.”

John was having a hard time believing what he was hearing. When you wanted something or someone as badly as he did her, you were liable to translate things wrong—even if they were in your native tongue.

What about your end game? he signed.

She took a deep breath. “I think I’d like to change my plans.”

How? Oh, God, he thought, please say—

“I’d like you and me to be my end game.” She cleared her throat. “It’s easier to check out. Just do yourself and be done with the whole living-breathing thing. But I’m a fighter, John. Always have been. And if you’ll have me... I’d like to fight with you.” She extended her hand to him, palm up. “So what do you say. How’d you like to sign on for a symphath?”

Fucking. Bingo.

John grabbed that hand of hers and brought it to his lips, kissing the thing hard. Then he put it over his heart, and as she kept it there, he signed, I thought you’d never ask, you meathead.

Xhex laughed again and then he was smiling so hard his cheeks felt like they were full of buckshot.

Gingerly, he gathered her to his chest and held her with care.

“God, John... I don’t want to fuck this up, and I have a bad track record with so much.”

He pulled back and stroked her silky, curling hair from her face. She looked so damned anxious—which was not how he wanted her to be feeling at a moment like this.

We’re going to work it out. Now and in the future.

“I hope so. Shit, I’ve never told you this, but I had a lover once... It wasn’t like you and me, but it was a relationship beyond just physical stuff. He was a Brother—he was a good male. I didn’t tell him about what I was, which was so not fair. I just didn’t think anything would come of it... and I was totally wrong.” She shook her head. “He tried to save me, he tried so damned hard. He ended up going into that colony to get me, and when he found out the truth, he just... lost it. Dropped out of the Brotherhood. Disappeared. I don’t even know if he’s still alive. That’s the main reason I’ve fought this... thing... between you and me. I lost Murhder, and it nearly killed me—and I didn’t feel for him half of what I do for you.”

This was good, John thought. Not that she’d had to go through all that—Christ, no way. But now their past made even more sense—and it made him trust better where they were now.

I’m so sorry, but I’m glad you told me. And I’m not whoever that was. We’re going to take it night by night and not look back. We look forward, you and I. We look forward.

She laughed in a quiet burst. “I think that’s it for revelations, by the way. You know everything I do about myself.”

Right... how to put this, he wondered.

John lifted his hands and slowly signed, Listen, I don’t know whether you’d be up for this, but there’s a female in this house, Rhage’s shellan? She’s a therapist and I know that some of the Brothers have used her to sort things out. I could introduce you to her? And maybe you could talk with her? She’s very cool and very discreet... and maybe it will help you with the past as well as the future.

Xhex took a deep breath. “You know... I’ve been living with buried shit for so long—and look where it’s gotten me. I’m a meathead, but I’m not a moron. Yeah... I’d like to meet with her.”

John leaned in and pressed his lips to hers; then he stretched out beside her. His body was exhausted, but his heart was alive with a joy so pure it was like the sunlight he didn’t get to see anymore: He was a mute-ass motherfucker with a nasty past and a night job that involved fighting evil and slaughtering the undead. And in spite of all that... he’d gotten the girl.

He’d gotten his girl, his true love, his pyrocant.

Of course, he wasn’t fooling himself. Life with Xhex wasn’t going to be normal on so many levels—good thing he was down with the wild side.

“John?”

He whistled an ascending note.

“I want to get mated to you. Properly mated. Like in front of the king and everyone. I want this to be official.”

Well... didn’t that just make his heart stop.

As he sat up and looked at her, she smiled. “Jesus, the expression on your face. What? You didn’t think I’d want to be your shellan?”

Not in a million years.

She recoiled a little in surprise. “And you were okay with that?”

It was hard to explain. But what was between them went further than a mating ceremony or a back carving or a witnessed exchange of commitment. He couldn’t put his finger on the why of it... but she was his missing puzzle piece, the twelfth in his dozen, the first and the last pages of his book. And at some level that was all he needed.

All I want is you. However that comes.

She nodded. “Well, I want the whole deal.”

He kissed her again, softly, because he didn’t want to hurt her. Then he pulled back and mouthed, I love you. And I’d love to be your hellren.

She blushed. She actually blushed. And didn’t that make him feel like he was the size of a mountain.

“Good, then it’s settled.” She put her hand to his face. “We’re going to be mated now.”

Now? As in... now? Xhex... you’re having trouble standing.

She looked him straight in the eye, and when she spoke, her voice ached—God... how it ached. “Then you would hold me up, wouldn’t you.”

He traced over her features with his fingertips. And as he did, for some strange reason, he felt the arms of infinity wrapping around them both, holding them close... linking them forever.

Yes, he mouthed. I would hold you up. I will ever hold you up and hold you dear, lover mine.

As he fused their mouths, he thought that was his vow to her. Mating ceremony or not... that was his vow to his female.