Soldier (Talon, #3)(49)
At least it doesn’t hurt much. Yay for painkillers, in whatever form they come. I’ve really got to stop this whole being-shot thing. I pushed myself upright and stretched, shaking out my neck and wings, and looked around. Wonder where everyone is?
Memories of the night before came back to me: gunfire and soldiers, the smell of smoke and fear, being trapped underground with men closing in on all sides. Cobalt’s fervent whispers, huddling behind a counter, waiting to die. And then, his sudden arrival, and the way my heart stuttered when I realized who it was.
With a sigh, I pushed those thoughts away before the tide of emotion behind the gates could smash through and overwhelm me. Sooner or later, I would have to face him again, and I was both anticipating and dreading that encounter, but I wasn’t going to think about it now. Spotting a pile of neatly folded clothes on a cot, I padded over to examine them, finding loose jeans, underwear and a T-shirt. At least someone had been prepared for the eventual Shifting back, though as always, I was reluctant to return to human form after being myself for so long. But on the bright side, I wouldn’t have to mince around the temple in a slinky Viper suit or orange robes eight sizes too big.
As I forced myself back to human form, my leg gave a weak throb, making me grit my teeth. But whatever numbing salve had been smeared on the wound did its job. After peeling out of the Viper suit, I changed carefully, sliding the jeans over the bandages, grateful that the denim didn’t rub against my skin. After pulling on the shirt, I raked my fingers through my hair, wincing at the snarls. Ouch. Why in the world is it always so tangled after a Shift? It’s not like I’m flying around with my hair blowing in the wind. Briefly, I wondered if I could borrow a brush from someone, then realized how ridiculous that was. Bald monks, Ember. This place probably hasn’t seen a comb since the day it was built.
When I was convinced I looked at least halfway presentable—harder than it sounded, since the room had no mirrors—I pushed open the door to my room and stepped out into the hall. A monk coming through another doorway instantly stopped and bowed to me, hands pressed under his chin. Slightly uncomfortable—I wasn’t used to being bowed to—I offered a weak smile and raised my hand.
“Um. Hi.” He nodded pleasantly, but his gaze remained intense, as if waiting for me to ask him something. “I’m looking for my friends,” I continued, wondering if he understood a word I was saying. “Do you know where I can find them?”
He silently lifted his arm, pointing behind me. Bemused, I turned around...
...and there was Garret, at the end of the hallway.
My stomach lurched. Garret straightened, as if he hadn’t expected to find me there. For a moment, we stared at each other, the silence settling around us like brittle glass. He had changed out of the soldier’s uniform; jeans and a white T-shirt had replaced the boots and combat vest, though he still wore a pistol strapped to his waist. I could see a bandage poking out from the sleeve of his left arm, and felt a flicker of guilt. I hadn’t handled last night well. I should’ve explained what was going on, talked to him more. He had seen Cobalt and me, lying together on the floor of the truck, and would have assumed...
I faltered. He would have assumed Riley and I were together now. Of course he would, there was no reason to think otherwise. And...wasn’t that the truth? Hadn’t Riley said he wanted to be with me? And I... I wanted him, too. Or at least, my dragon side was very certain.
But if I was so sure, why did the mere presence of the soldier cause my heart to pound wildly? Why had he been on my mind, hovering in my subconscious, since the night he’d walked away? With Cobalt, my dragon felt complete, like he was my other half. As if, through fate or instinct or destiny, we were supposed to be together. But my emotions wouldn’t let Garret go.
“Ember.” His voice was soft, making my skin flush. Something raw glimmered in his eyes, before he blinked and they turned cold. The mask of the Perfect Soldier.
“Are you all right?” he asked, but it was a polite question. Routine. A soldier wondering whether or not a teammate was battle ready. “How are your injuries?”
I shrugged. “I’ll live. I’ve survived worse.” He didn’t answer, didn’t even smile, and I rubbed my arm self-consciously. “What about you?
“Surface injuries. Just a graze, as I said before.” The words were flat. Not harsh or rude, just impassive. It made my insides hurt, hearing him talk like that. Like we were strangers again. “I should go,” he went on, before I could ask the million questions floating around my brain. “If you’re looking for Riley,” he added, pointing behind me, “he and Wes are in the room down the hall. I’ll talk to you later this evening.”
“Why did you come back?” He stiffened, and I changed tactics before he could shut down completely. “You mentioned something happened. That you found something in England, something big. What’s going on?”
“I’ll explain everything tonight, when everyone has had a chance to rest. It’s something everyone should hear together.” He stepped back, eyes shadowed, and gave me a polite nod. “I have things I need to check on,” he stated, though he wasn’t looking at me anymore. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Garret.”
He stopped with his back to me, and didn’t turn around. Biting my lip, I took a few steps toward him, gazing at the line of his broad shoulders. “Is this how it’s going to be with us?” I asked. “Like we never knew each other at all?”