Immortally Yours, An Urban Fantasy Romance (Monster MASH, Book 1) (27 page)

Oh boy. My palms were clammy as I shoved the door open on the ambulance. They certainly didn't go over this in medical school.
 

Hands up, I approached them slowly. Out of the corner of my eye, I was relieved to see Thaïs on the other side.
 

They held their arrows steady, pointed right at us.
 

Every step forward, I had to remind myself why I was doing this.
 

"We're doctors," I called, when I'd drawn within a base-ball's throw. "From the MASH 3063rd."
 

I sure hoped they'd gotten the memo.
 

Thaïs stood with his hands on his hips. "Drop your weapons and turn over your prisoners," he demanded.
 

Real smooth.
 

"Stop right there," a soldier in the front ordered.
 

We did. Thaïs and I stood side by side in the middle of the road, waiting. My throat went dry while the rest of me slicked with sweat.
 

"You want to put your hands up?" I said under my breath.
 

He scoffed. "I'm a demi-god."
 

"Well, in that case..." I raised my hands higher for the both of us.
 

This wasn't the time to play games. I was willing to do anything it took to get those soldiers and hightail it out of here.
 

A sharp breeze from the hell vent blasted us in the back and I wondered again just how I'd gotten into this.
 

I'd gone to a few personal extremes already. I'd knocked out Galen. I'd found a way to get rid of the knife.
 

Thaïs stood next to me. The fervor on his face spelled trouble.
 

"Do not screw this up," I hissed under my breath. This was too important.
 

He merely smiled.
 

Oh, fuck.
 

The sun beat down. I held steady, afraid to move. My arms ached, but there was no way I was taking them down. I didn't want to get shot over a misunderstanding.
 

Thaïs inhaled sharply, and I followed his gaze. A dark shadow had begun to form behind the troop transports. It billowed like a cloud, rolling forward, the mist stretching out into the line of soldiers.
 

Stale air enveloped us, smelling of sulfur and death. The demi-gods tensed, but held their own as the smoke began to take form behind them. Tall figures emerged from the mist. Heads bowed, faces hidden, they floated above the limbo plane. They were flat and gray, and rippled with a life of their own.
 

Shrouds.
 

This couldn't be necessary. No way anyone needed to use Shrouds. Some said they were spirits. Others claimed they were flesh and something else. There was no way to know for sure.
 

Shrouds came straight from hell. They were the oldest of the soul eaters. They'd damn mortals in an instant. Immortals they'd torture for eternity.
 

Both sides used them, but I'd never seen one until now.
 

I stared at the one straight across from me and sucked in a breath when it lifted its head. There was no face, no eyes. Just blackness.
 

My heart pounded in my ears. I didn't sign up for this.
 

Why the hell didn't I let Galen follow us? He'd know what to do. I had no idea.
 

And now I was trapped. I had to see this through, come hell or... I didn't want to think about it.
 

Figures emerged behind the Shrouds, skirting the damned, careful not to draw too close. A hard, leathery doctor and several orderlies led out four patients on stretchers. They made a wide berth and emerged on the left flank of the soldiers.
 

"That must be Kosta's buddy," I said under my breath to Thaïs.
 

He frowned. "I should have known Kosta had friends on the other side."
 

Didn't everybody? It wasn't like this was exactly a sane situation.
 

Every nerve on high alert, we stood, waiting.
 

After a moment's hesitation, the doctor began to move again, toward the middle of the road. The soldiers eased their weapons. I clenched my shoulders.
God, let this be over soon
.
 

A soldier in the middle stepped out front. "Stop the transfer."
 

Every sword tip and poisoned arrow pointed at us.
 

"They're armed," he announced.
 

My belly flip-flopped. "Oh shit." Was my knife back?
 

It couldn't be. I was supposed to arrest the forces of the damned, not get eaten by them.
 

I reached down for my pockets, willing them to be empty. The archers drew back. I had to keep going. I had to know.

I kept my hands flat.
I am not going for a weapon.
 

My hands slammed into my sides. There were no lumps in my jacket. I felt again, my heart soaring. No weapons.
 

"I'm clean!" I shouted, ready to faint with fear, or take off running.
 

There was a solid second where nobody moved.
 

"He's got a blade!" the soldier hollered.
 

What?
I froze for a moment, stunned.
 

"For death and glory!" Thaïs drew a curved dagger from under his shirt and charged.
 

I dropped to the ground as the archers launched a volley of arrows. This was it. I was dead.
 

The air erupted with shouts. I squeezed into a ball, covering my head as I felt the poisoned tips slam into the ground around me.
 

One nick and I was done. Now would be a great time for Galen to make a heroic save. But no—I'd tricked him and knocked him out.
 

So that I could die alone in the desert.
 

And they said I was the smartest one in my class.
 

"Get her." Soldiers dragged me up roughly by my arms, which meant I was alive. Thank God. I was alive.
 

Damn Thaïs and his death wish. He could die a hero on somebody else's mission.
 

The soldiers dragged me forward, toward enemy lines, their fingers bruising and their pace quick. My head swam as I tried to take it all in. Thaïs lay on the ground, riddled with arrows. They'd punctured his neck. He'd taken two more to the sternum. One in the belly.
 

They forced me past him. The poison would be working by now.
 

The head guard, the one who had spoken before, wrapped an arm around my shoulders and dragged me back against his hard armor. I strained to get away, to stand on my own two feet.
 

"We've got her, Colonel Spiros." He pressed the tip of his knife into my side. It penetrated my fatigues, stinging my skin. "Don't you dare move."
 

I swallowed hard, glancing down. It was one of those knives that broke apart inside the body, shredding you from the inside out. A chill snaked through me. No doubt it was poisoned as well.
 

"Look at me soldier," the leathery commander ordered. He had small, piercing eyes. "Kosta put you up to this?" He smelled like metal oil and sweat.
 

"No," I said quickly. They had to see Thaïs acted alone. "My partner here is crazy."
 

The colonel frowned. "You broke the deal."
 

Chapter Eighteen

"He broke the deal," I protested, voice cracking. "He paid the price." I couldn't help Thaïs as he lay bleeding on the ground. Maybe I could still convince Spiros to let me save those soldiers.
 

The old colonel stared me down with that same imperceptible expression Kosta got, as if he didn't know whether to take me seriously or throw me out.
 

I straightened, calmed, still very aware of the knife point against my ribs. "Don't make these soldiers suffer because of a crazy man."
 

The injured lay in pain on the ground behind him, like spoils to the victor. Blood soaked through their bandages.
 

The Shrouds clustered barely an arm's reach away, shifting in agitation, impatient. The soldier nearest to the creatures eased back a step, as if that would help.
 

It was the creepiest thing I'd ever watched—these hellish creatures, preparing to dine.
 

"Light the torches," the colonel ordered.
 

His soldiers laid out a semicircle of fire around our little party. It felt like a sacrificial altar.
 

Spiros stood with his back to the impending carnage, clearly in control. I wondered how he'd harnessed the damned. Never mind. I didn't care. I just wanted to get out of there.
 

The torches crackled in the dry desert air.
 

There'd been too much suffering, too much death already. I couldn't stop most of it. Damn. I couldn't even stop Thaïs, but I had to convince this commander that I was on his side.
 

I shook my head, willing him to understand, to find some of the mercy he'd shown by the sheer fact that he'd allowed this meeting in the first place. "I'm not a demi-god," I said. "I'm not a warrior. I'm a doctor. Let me save these people."
 

The shadows of the setting sun played over his sharp features. Whether it was the darkness or the centuries of command, Spiros was unreadable.
 

My head swam with the injustice of it. He wanted it. I knew he did or he wouldn't be standing there. "Haven't you seen enough useless suffering and death?"
 

He tilted his head up. "I have." He eyed me. "You've put me in a difficult position. We can't fly under the radar on this."
 

Because Thaïs had spilled blood.
 

I glanced back at my colleague, relieved to see he was at least moving. He kicked his legs and let out a groan as he dug his hand inside his uniform shirt.
 

He couldn't treat himself. This was a disaster.
 

And then I felt a heaviness in my pocket.
 

No.
 

The familiar outline of the knife pressed into my skin.
 

Fuck no.
 

My body thrummed, every nerve on high alert. I didn't want this. I didn't need this.
 

But there was no question about it. The knife was back. I refused to touch it, fought the urge to look down at the lump in my pocket.
 

Pretend it's not happening.
 

I had to get through this.
 

Blowing out a breath, I focused my full attention on Spiros. "I know it's bad." I was used to that. Bad never meant impossible. We could work it out. Tell a story. Get these soldiers—and my knife—the hell out of here. "As far as I'm concerned, my colleague tripped."
 

I could feel the soldier behind me chuckle, the blade of his knife rubbing against my skin. I winced. At least I'd succeeded in surprising Spiros.
 

"Get that knife away from her," Spiros ordered, waving his hand. He frowned. "I admire your wish to set things right, Doctor. Damn shame it can't be solved that easy."
 

"She's armed!" a soldier shouted.
 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.
 

Spiros snarled as they dragged the knife out of my pocket and handed it to him. "What the hell is this?"
 

No. He had to understand. "I didn't plan this, I swear." My mind raced for some way, any way, to get him to believe me.
 

He inspected the dagger. "This is the Knife of Atropos," he said, awe coloring his words.
 

"Who?" You could have knocked me over with a feather. "Wait. Atropos is one of the fates."
 

"This is a powerful artifact," he said, suspicious again, his fingers tracing over the blade. "Where did you get it?"
 

Before I could say anything else a shout went up from the guard. "He's got a bomb!"
 

I twisted to see Thaïs as another cry went up from the soldiers. "He's rigged!"
 

The guard surged forward. The warrior behind me released his grip and I dropped forward onto the ground. Boots caught my shoulder with a searing crush. I covered my head with my arms, wrapped myself in a tight ball as the battle ignited above me. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.
 

I tasted stale dirt and my own fear.
 

"Man down!"
 

Spiros fell next to me, blood soaking his gut.
 

"No!" There came a shocked cry from above. I stared up at the soldier who had held me. He clutched a bloody knife and stared in horror at his colonel.
 

Blood spread over the colonel's tan uniform shirt as I scrambled to his side.
 

"Is it poisoned?" I screamed above the chaos. The guard didn't seem to hear. I grabbed him around the leg and shook. "Your knife," I demanded.
 

The burly soldier surfaced from his daze. "No. Not mine. Shit!" He leveled the weapon at me.
 

A sliver was missing from the tip. We both saw it at the same time and from the sheer revulsion on his face, I knew what had happened.
 

Spiros choked up blood. "Stay with me," I ordered, turning back to my patient.
 

I ripped open his shirt. I'd done this for Galen. I could do it for him. "Get me a knife that's not going to break apart," I ordered the soldier behind me. "And for gods' sake get me some light."
 

The colonel's stomach was bathed in shadow. It was almost full dark. The knife had pierced below the sternum, just under the costal cartilage. Okay. Good. I used my sleeve to wipe away some of the blood. I needed more light. I needed to see where the shard went. Please let there be just one.