Winter's Warrior: Mark of the Monarch (Winter's Saga 4)

“Mom will be upset that we only have one new addition to our family. She’s going to be very worried about the other eleven still out there.”


Meg frowned as she thought back to the empath vision she received when racing out of the hospital. The children had been sequestered somewhere off site. They were taken by Williams himself to a new location. Meg knew she needed to concentrate and send her empath feelers out to try to locate them, but she was too exhausted after working with Danny over the past couple hours. She’d been feeding him not just the sports drink, but soothing waves of her gift and though it no longer made her pass out from the effort, thanks to her learning how to receive strength from her family (especially Creed), after the hours of concentration she was very tired. And though she would only admit it to herself, she was also somewhat weakened. It took some energy to open to Creed’s connection, and right in that moment, she was too exhausted to try.

“Farrow and I are going to head up front for a little rest. Call if you need me to take a turn keeping watch over Mom, okay?” Alik was still looking pale and if Meg had enough strength, she would have been asking him all sorts of questions about how he was feeling. Evan had been too busy trying to stabilize their mom to look closely at his brother’s pained face.

“Sure, brother,” Evan said without looking away from his work on Meg’s hand. “We probably could all use a good week of uninterrupted sleep after last night.”

“Amen, that,” Alik muttered. He walked away, holding his sides. Evan and Sloan agreed he had several cracked ribs from the beating the soldiers gave him. Since the ribs seemed to be in alignment, there was nothing more to be done. Alik was going to have to heal on his own.

Even metahumans take a little time to heal.





Chapter 16 No Pain, No Pain



Meg sighed and leaned heavily against Creed, watching Alik walk hunched over just as much from the low aircraft ceiling as his pain-filled chest. Feeling her soldier’s arms wrap around her waist, Meg didn’t bother to resist when Creed pulled her gently into his lap.

He leaned his head down and whispered so only she could hear. “It’s your turn to be held.”

How he knew she was struggling to stay on her feet, Meg didn’t know, but she was thankful for his strong arms around her while she allowed herself to drift in thought, only half listening to the others talk.

“I should really clean your hand, Meg. You may need stitches,” Sloan offered, hesitantly.

Meg had washed her hand and rewrapped it with a fresh towel after her visit to the restroom. “Okay,” she sighed, unconcerned with her hand as her mind raced to think of something she was sure they forgot.

Sloan unwrapped her hand and studied the torn flesh with the calculating eyes of a doctor before announcing, “Yes, you definitely need stitches. Do you want Evan to do it or are you okay with me?”

Meg frowned at Sloan, unintentionally receiving an empath reading from her as she held Meg’s oozing hand in her gloved one.

Sloan was worried. She was sure she’d be judged for knowing about the test children at the Facility, and doing nothing to help them before now. Meg could also read how exhausted she was.

Before Meg could answer, Evan stepped up. “Thanks Sloan, I’ll take care of Meg. You go ahead and rest for a while. We may as well take turns at Mom’s side. I’ll take first watch.”

“Are you sure?” the young doctor asked, though relief was clear in her tired voice.

“Absolutely. Go find a quiet seat and rest. I’ll come get you in two hours, and we’ll trade places.” Evan offered the girl a tired smile, encouraging her to do as he suggested.

Sloan nodded once, pursing her lips together in a tight smile before making her way back toward the front of the plane.

Evan turned to gather some materials before moving back to his sister and started cleaning the cut in her hand with an antiseptic that stained her skin orange.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked his sister in a soft voice.

“Was it that obvious?” she sighed. “Sorry, a thought just occurred to me.”

However tired Evan was, his doctor’s hands moved with skill and precision, always gentle, always efficient, as though they had their own energy reserve from the boy to which they belonged.

“What thought?” Creed asked.

“Well, what did Sloan think was going on at the hospital? She’s a smart girl. She must have known more than she acted on.” Meg watched the orange antiseptic seep into the deep cut still oozing blood with every movement of her hand. “And just now, when she touched my hand, I got the very distinct reading that she’s terrified of something.”

“Of what?”

“I didn’t have the stren…I mean I didn’t have enough time to delve deeper than the most obvious emotion she was feeling.”

“You think Sloan was part of the machine that performed tests on the children there?” Creed was frowning, a worry line pressed across his wide forehead.