Academy of Protectors (The Protector Guild Book 1) Page 11

  “Ponies don’t have hands,” I mumbled, my eyes cracking open briefly, until a painfully well-lit room had me snapping my lids closed again. “Oh god, death is fucking terrible.”

  I inched my head to the left while pushing myself up, trying to get a better feel for my surroundings, and moaned. The pain in my neck and arm weren’t gone then I guess. If anything, I felt worse than I thought possible. No fight with Rowan or Cyrus had ever left me feeling like this. My blood felt like sandpaper rushing under my skin.

  A soft chuckle brought my focus to a pair of light brown eyes.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living, beautiful.” Eli smiled down at me, his large hand cannibalizing my own. “It figures you’d try and take on Cyrus’s reputation after spending only one day in our world.” His tone was joking, but worry and fear were mapped across his face. And maybe a little guilt?

  “Wha—” I cleared my throat, my mouth dry and bitter. “What happened? Where am I?”

  “How the hell is she already awake? Eli, go get Cyrus and Seamus. Tell them she’s up.” Atlas barked the command, not sparing me a glance while he paced back and forth in the room.

  I turned my head, carefully, taking in the new surroundings. The room was cold, white, sterile, and bright—so fucking bright. The light was practically drilling a hole through my retinas. I inhaled deeply, scrunching my nose at the stark scent of antiseptic. My body was sore. It didn’t help that I was lying on a narrow bed that was more rock slab than mattress.

  “This is your hospital? I feel like I’m in a morgue,” I mumbled, my voice dry and cracked. If I weren’t so disoriented, I’d be momentarily pleased by the new croony tenor.

  Wade walked up, grabbing the hand left vacant by Eli’s departure. “Glad to see your sense of humor is still intact.” His pale eyes dropped down slightly, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry I left you like that last night. Maybe if I’d stayed, or not had so much to drink, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  I squeezed his deceptively soft hand. What a weird thing to blame himself for. “It’s not your fault. But, um,” I cleared my throat to no effect, “while we’re on the topic, what exactly did happen?”

  “You don’t remember?” Declan’s brows creased in concern, and I was struck by how strikingly beautiful she was. Like a concerned fairy. They were all maddeningly beautiful. Even Atlas the Asshat.

  “Atlas the Asshat, eh? I’ll have to use that sometime.” Wade’s face crinkled with unshed laughter.

  Shit, I must’ve said that out loud.

  “You did. It’s the effects of the medicine,” Atlas said as he turned to Declan, ignoring me once more. “Also probably why her memory is a bit muddled about last night. She’s likely also feeling disoriented.” His words were cold, clipped. I felt like a boring lab rat that he was being forced to observe and take notes on.

  “Is he always such an emotionless jerk?” I mumbled.

  “Still speaking everything out loud, firecracker.” Declan muffled her laughter as she studied her friend.

  “Oh, that one I meant for him to hear.” I paused briefly, looking up at them all. “Seriously though, can someone tell me what happened? Last thing I remember I was fighting off a vamp.”

  Like clockwork, all three of their faces darkened.

  Atlas looked from Declan to Wade and blew out a huff of air when he realized he was the only one in the room who was there, besides me obviously. “I only caught the last second. You were leaning across a dead vamp, and almost as soon as Eli and I found you, you passed out. Likely from all of the blood loss. There was...a lot.”

  “Oh, did I say something snarky and hilarious?” I flourished my hand around and grunted, remembering all too late that my right arm was still a wreck. And last night? How long was it going to take for me to heal?

  “What are you talking about?” A crease formed between Atlas’s dark brows, and I dropped my eyes, unable to maintain contact with his. I noticed a scar on his arm, it was flat and only a shade or two removed from his skin tone, so it was difficult to see. He’d never been this close to me before, so it wasn’t something that caught my notice. But it did now. Protectors rarely scarred. Noticing my appraisal, he shifted uncomfortably and pulled his sleeve down.

  “You know, like Buffy. She always says something witty and awesome whenever she dusts a vamp,” I mumbled, partially distracted by his closeness. Something about his presence just overwhelmed me completely. And now I was sitting here, surrounded by three of the most powerful people in The Guild. It was a lot for a girl to handle, especially after such an ordeal.

  “You’re a strange girl, Max Bentley.” Wade shook his head and rested his hand on my hip. After a moment, he realized how close his grip was to my lady bits and he moved his hand sharply to my calf. I smiled at the flush in his face.

  “So no witty remark for the dead vamp then?” I conceded, frowning slightly. Next time maybe. “Did you see the giant dog? Please tell me you saw the giant dog. And that she’s alright. Second time now that she—or he—has saved my life.”

  “Giant dog? You really must have hit your head hard, Max.” Wade’s eyes shone with worry, but I caught the way Atlas looked around the room, scratching his stubble as soon as I made mention of the dog.

  “The dog, unfortunately, is being kept in the lab here.” Cyrus’s voice boomed across the room and Declan and Wade parted, allowing Ro to grab the seat by my head. “Ro and I just came back from talking to the head of research. It’s clear the hellhound means no harm, but protectors are stubborn and hellhounds have a bad reputation. So they won’t listen to me and are going to keep him locked up for now. If the beast was smart he’d have run off, but he refused to leave the grounds once Atlas and Eli brought you back.” There was venom in his words and I wondered, briefly, how long Cyrus would be able to put up with someone else pulling rank and disagreeing with him. That didn’t fly in our little cabin-world.

  “Holy shit, she wasn’t lying about the giant dog then?” Wade asked, his eyes widening as he watched Cyrus approach.

  “You’re awake already,” Cyrus mumbled, ignoring him. “That’s good. Very good. Sometimes protectors don’t wake from vampire bites. And they almost never heal.”

  My eyes fell to Ro, who hadn’t said a word since walking into the room. His head was bent down, his hands digging into the hair on the back of his head. I lifted my left arm and ran my fingers through his, pulling his hands away before he gouged out a chunk of his scalp. When his face lifted to meet mine, it was pale, empty of his usual mirth.

  “What, no winning commentary for us all, Ro?” I tried to lighten the mood, but at the wispy sound of my voice, the frown creasing his forehead only deepened. “Don’t worry, brother dearest. I’m perfectly fine. Was told I handled that vamp like a pro. Full on Buffy-style retort and everything. You should’ve seen it—spectacular, I’m sure.”

  “You lie.” The shadow of a grin danced across his face. “The first thing I asked Eli once you were stable was whether you said something ridiculous after sticking your knife in the parasite’s heart. You were out cold.”

  I winked at him before turning my attention back to Cyrus. “What do you mean protectors sometimes don’t wake from vampire bites?” I mean, I knew that was true with werewolves, so I guess it made sense. But damn, that was something they should be broadcasting during every spar session: ‘may die if Edward gets toothy.’ “And what do you mean the bites don’t heal? I thought we were supposed to have super healing powers?”

  Cyrus cleared his throat and looked about the room avoiding eye contact. It was unusual for him to be so flighty. “Like with werewolves, the venom vampires leak into their bite can be fatal for protectors. There is always lasting damage though.” His eyes drifted solemnly down, leading my gaze to his leg.

  “Your limp? That was caused by a vamp bite?” I asked, anxiety rasping my voice. So the story was true then. He’d taken on two vamps and lived to tell the story. Part of me was convinced it was just an old wives’ tale.

  “Aye, the teeth hit bone” he responded. “But you’re already awake and speaking, and the wound doesn’t seem too deep. If you’re lucky you’ll only be left with a scar and some minor discomfort around the area.”

  Great, one day as a student at The Guild and here I was eternally injured already. Just my luck. Ah well, at least I was alive. And, while I was certainly sore, my arm hurt far more than my neck did. I was afraid to take the bandage off though, not ready to deal with whatever brutal wound was underneath. The room was uncharacteristically silent while everyone looked everywhere but at me, until my eyes met a pair of dark ones.

  Atlas. A brief flicker of something flittered behind his gaze, but it was gone almost as soon as I noticed it. And then, as if I’d imagined it, he looked elsewhere.

  I cleared my throat, uncomfortable with the silence. “Also, what the hell is a hellhound?” I paused a beat. “Pun intended.” Even though it wasn’t.

  “A hellhound is a very rare creature from the hell realm. One has not been seen in our world in at least a century. Probably quite a bit longer. We know almost nothing about them.” Seamus was standing behind Cy. I hadn’t even noticed him before. Whatever meds they had me on were seriously messing with my usually stealthy senses.

  I turned to Cyrus and then to Ro. “This is the same Fido from back home? I thought so when it rescued me last night, but things happened so fast I couldn’t really be sure. And I was more invested in killing the vamp than doing an identity check.”

  Ro nodded and resumed his internal sulking. His mouth opened and closed and I waited patiently for him to say what he needed to say. It was the only way with Ro. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t out there with you, Max,” he blurted, words in a hurried rush. “If that hound hadn’t found you first, who knows what would’ve happened. I mean, fuck.” He stood up and turned. Several uneven breaths wracked his body, until he suddenly struck, punching a hole in the wall.

  That was Ro, though. Even when he was emotionally distraught, he had to show off how badass he was.

  Peacocking. I think that’s what Izzy called it.

  Ro glared at me, but soon broke into a soft chuckle, dissolving the tension. I guess I still wasn’t totally aware of what was coming out of my mouth, then.

  Cyrus’s words caught up to me and I snapped my focus in his direction, flinching slightly from the pain in my neck.

  “Wait, so you’re telling me this dog saved my life twice. And instead of giving it the world’s largest Milkbone, the protectors here have him locked up in some creepy laboratory?” Uncharacteristic anger bloomed in my blood. I was getting that dog out if it was the last thing I did. I owed him.

  Seamus’s eyes traveled to the ground, unable to hold contact with mine. Good, he should feel bad. And the expression on Cyrus’s face—his lips pulled into an impossibly tight line—told me that he wasn’t too happy with his brother about the situation, even if it wasn’t completely Seamus’s fault.

  Seamus cleared his throat before searching around the room, like he was trying to string together a reasonable explanation. “It’s complicated, Max. Not only are hellhounds extremely rare, they are typically associated with powerful demons. They are dangerous and highly unpredictable. It’s unusual for one to take an extended interest in anybody, let alone a protector. This is twice now that he’s followed you and saved you from hell beasts. We can’t just ignore that and send him off into the world. Until The Guild can be sure that he means no harm, they’d prefer to keep him locked up.” I opened my mouth to argue but Seamus lifted his hand to silence me. A strategy he shared with Cyrus—and one I was so not a fan of. “We have, however, made sure that he won’t come to any harm while he remains here. We just can’t risk inciting panic when people see a potentially dangerous, potentially evil beast roaming around the grounds. No matter how good its intentions seem to us now. We have no way of knowing for sure.”

  I growled, frustration spilling from my every pore, before turning to Cyrus. “Well, take me to him then. I’d like to at least thank him for saving my neck, literally, twice now. And then I would like to apologize for getting him stuck in some creepy ass dungeon, while researchers treat him like some rare zoo exhibit.”

  Ro stood next to me, crossing his arms and facing off against the odd assortment of people in the room. Declan and Wade were so silent, I almost forgot they were here. I patted Ro’s side, appreciating the show of solidarity. If no one would let the dog out, we’d find a way to break him out ourselves. Until then, we’d bide our time. I could be patient. Or at least I would try.

  “Right now, Max, you need to rest. You’ve lost a lot of blood, and while you heal fast, you will need to stay down here for a while. Vampire bites are nasty business. You’re in for a few rough nights.” Cyrus laid a hand on my foot in an uncharacteristic show of affection.

  “I’m staying down here with her tonight.” Ro squared his shoulders, daring Seamus to challenge him.

  “No.”

  My head spun and I cringed at the twinge in my neck. It wasn’t Seamus who rejected him, but a small, hunched over old woman. Her hair was cropped short and spiky, sticking up everywhere as if she’d been electrocuted. I liked it.

  “Who’re you?” I asked, too shocked by her appearance to be polite. Protectors had advanced hearing, and not one of us heard her until she was almost right by my bed.

  “Your nurse. And I say you need rest and peace. Two things you won’t get if I allow you to keep this harem of misfits hanging around your bedside.” Her voice was soft and wispy, even though the words were firm. With a smiling eye, she turned to Atlas. “That means you too, boy. No way am I letting you butter me up this time. You’ll all leave and return tomorrow for visiting hours. Then, in a couple of days, Ms. Bentley here will likely be cleared to bed rest in her own room.”

  Ro opened his mouth to argue when Atlas dropped a hand on his shoulder. “Trust me, she’s not someone you can win an argument against.”

  She peeled the dressing back from my neck as the corners of her mouth bent down in a small but kind frown. “I could’ve sworn there were deep incision marks when I dressed this earlier.” She stepped back, her brows pointing towards each other as she studied me. Her eyes narrowed further as she moved from watching me to watching Cy. “You were here when I dressed the wound, no? Tell me I was seeing things, that there weren’t clear-as-day bite marks?”

  Cyrus walked over to the other side of my bed and lightly pulled my head towards him, examining my cut himself. Worry lines pebbled his forehead. “Impossible.” Instead of meeting my eyes, he looked at his brother.

  While they had their weird silent conversation, I resisted running a hand over my neck. “What’s the big deal?” I asked. “As the one snacked on recently by a vamp, I can assure you that there is in fact a bite wound. Plus, my neck stings like a bitch, so I know there’s an open wound.”

  “A wound,” Seamus said, stepping closer to me so that he could inspect my neck for himself. “I imagine it’s from where the fangs were pulled at an odd angle, gouging a chunk of your flesh out. That trauma is still healing, but it is now quite superficial, like a scrape, and will heal like all your wounds heal. The incision point, though—from the fangs? It’s so faint that it’s practically gone. I saw you when they brought you in. That bite was deep. It should take months, maybe even years to get healed to this level.”

  “Impossible,” Cyrus said again. “I’ve never seen a protector heal like that from a bloodsucker bite.” His calloused fingers pressed lightly against the untouched skin surrounding the injury. “And it’s not even like she’s a particularly fast healer, as far as our kind goes. Her arm is still a mess from the breaks.”

  I furrowed my brows at that last part—it sounded dangerously close to an insult. “I don’t heal that slowly,” I mumbled.

  “What does this mean?” Eli asked. His expression was odd, like he couldn’t tell whether to be pleased or worried by the news. That made two of us.

  “We don’t know. But for now, no one in this room discusses Max’s situation with anyone else,” Cyrus said, his dark eyes glaring daggers at the weird band of protectors scattered around my bed.

  “Agreed,” Seamus said, nodding his head for emphasis. “We can’t keep the attack quiet, but all anyone needs to know is that Max was injured. The official account will be that she wasn’t bitten—especially since the bite will be gone by morning at this rate. We’ll study the vampire’s body.” His warm eyes, the exact shade as Cy’s, looked from me back to his brother. “Maybe there’s a reason his venom was less intrusive.”

  I shuddered, feeling bad for whoever had morgue work tonight—and equally bad for whoever got stuck hauling the vamp’s body back from the nightclub. I had a feeling that it was somebody in this room.

  “Understood,” Atlas responded, soliciting a humorous echo of nods from his team members. With a final nod in my direction, he gestured to Wade, Eli, and Declan before walking through the door—the latter three sending me brief, sad smiles before following suit. They were such an odd group, but I was glad to know that they got me back here safely.

  Cyrus pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and turned without saying a word, leaving with Seamus.

  Ro and I stared after him, our mouths gaping. He’d never done that before. Cy’s version of parental affection was flinging darts at us while we tried to dodge them.

  “Maybe he’s the one who hit his head tonight?” I looked up at Ro as a mixture of confusion and warmth trickled through my body.

  With a soft chuckle, Ro turned to the nurse and put on his best impression of Cyrus. “You better take good care of her. I’m not against beating up an old woman if I have to.”

  The nurse laughed, clearly able to spot the lie as quickly as I could. “Who are you calling an old lady, kid?”