Once he got a fire going in the brazier, Lucien returned to his mother’s side. Yulen reached out, took his son’s hand, and squeezed it. “I’ve decided I’m staying here with you and your mother. I’m sending Cole ahead with a squad to check out Green River. By the time they return, it’ll be over.” He didn’t explain what he meant what “it” was. Lucien understood.
“Fetch Cole for me, would you?”
After giving his mother’s hand a kiss on the palm, their son left the tent. Atty nuzzled her husband’s chest. “Have you noticed how more independent he’s become since he’s no longer in Mattox’s or Mistelle’s shadow?”
“He’s become more assured of himself. Less hesitant. Less self-deprecating. In these past few days, he’s grown mentally and emotionally. I can see what kind…” Yulen’s voice broke when he realized his wish may not see fruition. “I can see what kind of strong leader he’ll grow up to be.”
Atty nodded weakly, and Iain’s words came back to him. “Mental attitude is half the battle. If you choose to give up, you give up every chance to live. But if you mentally gird yourself, and tell yourself that you’re not going to give up so easily…sometimes people call it a miracle.”
Then I’m going to fight every step of the way with you, Atty. The same way you fought for me at Rocky Gorge. I’ll fight for you and our son. Even if this fucking virus wins in the end, it won’t have an easy victory. And it won’t be without blood spilled on both sides. That I promise.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Eyes
Johna lay inside the doctor’s bedroll that he had loaned her and listened to the sounds of the forest that surrounded them. She and Lucien were in one of five small tents which surrounded a small fire pit outside. With her back to the flames reflecting through the fabric, she could watch him as he tried to sleep on his back. After a while, he rolled over, turning away from her. Either he was aware of her observing him, or he sensed it. Regardless, his actions made her smile.
So far, she didn’t see any changes in him. Not in his body temperature nor by anything else that would signal to her that the virus was beginning to take hold. Unfortunately, the same wasn’t true for herself. She could feel the disease spreading its roots through her limbs as it centered itself in the middle of her chest, surrounding her heart and lungs like some virulent spider web. Settling in the way a mother raccoon builds her nest before making a permanent home to give birth to her kits. Already she could feel an increase in pressure in her sinuses, throat, and inner ear.
Lucien moved again. Changing her vision, she followed the line of his body from his shoulders, down to his waist, and along his outer thigh to his booted feet. He was stretched out on top of his bedroll instead of inside it. His thick leather outerwear was keeping him sufficiently warm without needing to seek a blanket. On his other side, between him and the tent’s opening, lay the formed metal plates of his armor. She remembered when he’d set them down on the ground in a particular way and order. At her curious stare, he’d smiled and told her, “In case there’s an emergency and I need to put it on at a moment’s notice.” He didn’t demonstrate how he’d redress himself in the heavy stuff, but she assumed he’d had the training he needed to master the ability.
He adjusted his position again. This time she caught sight of the bandage at the back of his head. Shifting her vision to what she called her “hot and cold”, she noticed a change in the wound’s appearance. It wasn’t heated any longer. If anything, it seemed to be the same temperature as his own body heat, which meant it was healing. The bat hadn’t infected him. Or the doctor had managed to kill all the germs before the rabies had the chance to hook its claws in him.
She shifted her eyes to see better in the dark. The transition was as natural to her as thinking it, and it happening. For as long as she could remember, people had asked her how her eyesight differed from theirs once they realized she noticed things in ways they couldn’t. There was no way she was able to answer them because she had nothing to base it on. It was a mystery to her how other people saw the world. But after years of witnessing their limitations, she’d learned how to understand her uniqueness. More so, she’d accepted their shortcomings. But she always dreaded those times when people saw her for the first time. Especially the Normals. The fear that came over their faces, followed by disgust. The way they’d avert their own eyes and refuse to look at her straight on.
Except…this man, Lucien. Their initial meeting hadn’t gone as she’d expected. He’d looked her in the face, noticed her unusual eyes, and never once looked away. But his own brother is said to have eyes redder than blood, she reminded herself. He’s accustomed to strange-looking eyes.
Then why did Mutah, her own people, find her appearance so unsettling?
And it wasn’t just Lucien. His parents, the battle lord and lady, they didn’t avert their gazes, either. Or their doctor. Maybe that’s why I didn’t feel uncomfortable when D’Jacques ordered me to stay with them, instead of sending me to his compound, along with the others. They unconditionally accept me for what I am.
Lucien gave a sigh. She resisted the urge to reach over and touch him, even though he lay mere inches away. The memory of his arms holding her, and the way he’d pressed his face against hers, was still fresh in her mind. She wanted him to embrace her again. She wanted…she needed to feel his strong arms enfold her.
I’m starting to sicken, Lucien. It seems the maddening disease is progressing faster in me than it is in you. Or maybe it’s not, and I’m just not seeing it in you yet.
“Johna?” His hushed voice sounded loud inside the tent.
“Yes?”
A soft snort. “I sensed you were awake. How do you feel?”
She wasn’t going to lie to him. “I can tell the virus is starting to take hold. You?”
He gave a little shake of his head. “I don’t feel anything yet. Do you see it in me? Can you see the disease in me?”
“No. Not yet. I was looking at the wound on the back of your head. It’s the same color as the rest of you.”
“What does that mean?”
“That it’s healing. Does it itch?”
“Yeah. Like a son of a bitch. Sometimes I have to grit my teeth to keep myself from scratching at it.”
It probably also explained some of the reason for his inability to sleep, she figured. “I was always told that the itching was a sign that it’s healing.”
He chuckled. “So was I.”
She scooted a little closer to him. Enough to where she could detect his body heat. He realized what she was doing and rolled over to face her. A grin lit his face as he looked at her.
“Oh, wow. That’s cool.”
“What is?”
“The way your eyes are glowing… No, wait. They’re reflecting the light.” The smile on his face sent a ribbon of warmth through her. “Do they always do that?” he inquired.
“I don’t know. Hold on.” She shifted her sight and stared back up at him.
He crooked an arm underneath his head to pillow it. “Now it’s stopped. What did you do?”
“I went from ‘see in the dark’ to ‘hot and cold’.”