Shield of Winter

Chapter 38

An Arrow trusts no one but another member of the squad. Any Arrow who breaches this rule must be placed under immediate probation and given corrective training.

First Code of Arrows

AN HOUR AFTER Jaya’s unexpected, pained reaction on the street, the tall, elegant woman lay curled up on Ivy’s bed. “I’m different from you.”

“Yes.” Sitting down beside her, Ivy stroked the lustrous hair Jaya had released from her braids. “That must be why you collapsed when you tried to calm the crowd. Your tolerance for that type of empathic act is lower than mine.” Because, as had already become clear, empaths weren’t all the same. “But I couldn’t even penetrate the victim’s mind. You saw everything.”

“What use is it?” Jaya grasped a fistful of the sheet, crushed it, released the wrinked fabric, then repeated her actions. “To read the emotions of the dead?”

“Maybe it’s not about the dead,” Ivy said, having had a chance to consider it. “Remember that bit in the Eldridge book about the impact on Es of long-term critical-care work? We all assumed it had to do with conscious patients, but what if she was talking about—”

“People in comas.” Jaya sat up, twisting to face Ivy, her pupils huge.

“Or those otherwise trapped in their bodies.” Wonder burst inside Ivy at the miracle of Jaya’s gift.

“I have to know.” Jaya’s hand shook as she thrust it through her hair. “I have to know, Ivy.”

Ivy nodded—if Jaya did have the ability to help people trapped within their own minds, they couldn’t waste a single minute in confirming it. “The nearest hospital isn’t too far. We can walk.” Ivy paused, considered the logistics. “We should probably have an escort though.” Confirmed Es continued to be the targets of attempted violence and simmering unrest. “I’ll ask Vasic.”

Aden will go with you, he said in response to her telepathic query, and that was when she understood just how much he trusted the other Arrow. There may be further outbreaks—Abbot and I should remain close to the scene.

The ice in his tone was somehow harder, edgier. Ivy wished she could hold him, remind him that life wasn’t only horror and pain. We’ll be down in a few minutes, she said, as Jaya rose and motioned that she was going to get her coat.

No, Vasic replied. Wait for Aden to reach you.

All right. Going with instinct, Ivy blew him a telepathic kiss, unsure if he’d understand the message that held no words.

You have a bad habit of distracting me, Ivy Jane.

Ivy shivered, then smiled, because while the ice remained, it now held an undertone of tenderness she didn’t think her Arrow was aware of, but that she heard often when he spoke to her. I’ll behave . . . for now. Take care of yourself—I’ll be really, really angry if you get hurt.

I would never disobey your orders.

Heart aching, she decided that, somehow, today hadn’t done the damage she’d feared. Her Vasic was still her Vasic. It was difficult not to continue speaking to him, but he was right; he had to concentrate—and she had to put on her own coat and shoes.

“I’m sorry, Rabbit, but you have to stay here,” she said to her pet when he jumped up at the sign that she was going out. “I have to go inside the hospital with Jaya, and I don’t want to leave you tied up outside.” She rubbed his furry head. “What would I do if someone stole you, hmm?”

Her dog didn’t look impressed with that, but hopped up on his haunches on the sunny windowsill, eyes on the activity outside.

Vasic, she said on her way out, I’m leaving Rabbit here. Could you or Abbot check in on him if we’re gone long?

Vasic didn’t tell her he had far more important things to do. Instead, he said, I’ll pick him up once we’ve cleared all the buildings of threats. He can help me keep watch.

He melted her from the inside out, her dangerous, beautiful Arrow, made her veins fill with a joy so incandescent, it was captured sunshine. I adore you.

Tell me again when we’re alone.

IVY was still a little breathless from the rough sexual promise inherent in Vasic’s last words when she walked into the hospital with Aden and Jaya. She didn’t know what Aden said to the nurse in charge of the ward in question, but the trim Hispanic woman didn’t dispute their right to be there.

In fact, she led them to a young male in a state-of-the-art monitoring bed. Though he was free of wires, his vital functions monitored by the bed itself and accessible through the panel at the end, he had at least three tubes feeding in and out of his body.

From what Ivy could see of his face and shoulders, his pallid white skin was clear of cuts and bruises.

“Vehicle accident resulting in severe head trauma,” the nurse said, a subtle wildness to her emotional resonance that told Ivy she was changeling. “We’ve done all we can, but he’s been in a coma for the past eight weeks.”

That explained the lack of visible injuries.

“He’s human,” the nurse added. “That make a difference?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Jaya’s shoulders rose then fell as she inhaled slowly, exhaled as slowly. “Is it all right if I touch him?”

“I’ll monitor his vitals in case he has an adverse reaction.”

Standing near the doorway with Aden while Jaya took a seat in the chair beside the bed, Ivy found herself examining him. At about five feet nine inches, he wasn’t as tall as Vasic, and his features were Asian to Vasic’s Slavic, but the two Arrows were cut from the same template regardless. Military bearing, eyes that saw everything, a face that gave nothing away.

“May I ask you a question?” she said softly, one eye on Jaya as the other empath placed her hand on the patient’s forehead with conscious gentleness.

Aden nodded. Telepathing will be easier if you don’t wish to be overheard.

Thank you. It’s about Vasic.

Aden’s dark eyes—so rich a brown they were near black—held hers. I know.

I want to ask you to tell me the things he never will. Her Arrow was too protective, too uncaring of his own pain. Teach me what I need to know. Vasic and Aden were blood brothers, intertwined on a level that made them as close as twins. She couldn’t get to know one without the cooperation of the other.

Aden was quiet for a long time. I’ve lost him, too, he said at last. He’s been walking toward the abyss since the first time he was injected with Jax and forced to take a life. I watched it happen, and I couldn’t stop it.

Nothing in his voice or his expression betrayed any hint of pain, but Ivy knew Arrows now. These men and women were too strong and too intelligent not to have the capacity to feel with wild fury. You helped him stay stable.

No, Ivy. I made sure he didn’t go over the final edge, but that isn’t enough. He maintained the intensity of the eye contact as he continued. Deep within, Vasic doesn’t believe he has the right to have a life. Do you understand?

Pain stabbed the backs of her eyes at the confirmation of what she’d already suspected. Yes. I’ve told him the future is his to make, that he can choose the path he takes.

Aden put his hands behind his back, the fingers of one clasping the wrist of the other. He may appear to accept that on the surface, but the wounds go deep. He’s lived in his personal purgatory for years. You can’t be complacent.

I won’t, she said, jaw tight. I think if the ones who used him and hurt him stood in front of me, I’d happily forget I was an empath and do them serious damage.

You’d have to wait your turn.

Ivy looked up at that lethally cold statement, her gaze on the clean angle of his profile. Do you mind? That I’m trying to get him to bond with me?

Even were you Nikita Duncan, Aden said, I’d back you with every cell in my body, so long as you promised to haul Vasic into life. A pause. An empath though . . . he needs softness and kindness and care on the deepest level. And he needs it from someone strong enough to care for him even when the return seems negligible. Again he turned to her. Do you have that courage?

The answer was easy. It’s never negligible, Aden. Vasic speaks with his eyes, with his touch, with the way he cares so deeply and truly that I’ve come to simply accept he’ll be there when I need him. Emotion burned her eyes, her telepathic voice impassioned. He has a heart so huge, it’s kept pumping, kept going long past endurance—even though life has bruised it to a pulp.

Aden turned his body toward her . . . and then he did an unexpected thing for an Arrow. He reached out to cup her jaw, hold her face for a long, taut second, their eyes locked. I think, he said at last, you are a worthy match for my friend, Ivy Jane. You see the greatness of him—and you see his vulnerability. Neither scares you. A decisive nod as he broke contact. Anything you need from me, you can have. You need only ask.

Ivy blinked rapidly to swallow the scalding wet of her tears, conscious Jaya had just gasped and turned toward them. “I can sense him.” A dazzling smile. “He’s in there, and he’s frustrated and angry that no one can hear him. I can help him find a way out.” Jumping up, she tugged Ivy close with excited hands. “You try.”

Ivy did, caught only the dull echo of emotion that told her the patient wasn’t brain-dead. “I think this is your gift, Jaya,” she whispered, hugging her friend in awe.

Aden didn’t speak again until after Jaya had gone to talk to the nurse about the readings the nurse had picked up during the session. It’s a priceless gift, he said, but it isn’t enough. There have been two further outbreaks in different parts of the world in the time we’ve been at this hospital. We are losing this war.