Page 117 of Caution to the Wind

I looked up at Priest, who stared back at me with those cold eyes and grinned a manic, heart-stopping grin, and then Bat, who cracked his knuckles and pounded a fist over his patch that read “Sergeant at Arms.”

“I’ll bring the guns,” he vowed.

When I laughed, relieved and delighted, they joined in. It was the first time in a long time I felt part of something good.

AXE-MAN

I was comin’in from my mornin’ cold dip in the lake, shakin’ water from my hair like a dog before rubbin’ a towel over it, when I heard the shatter. Droppin’ the cloth from my face, I saw Mei standin’ in the mouth of the kitchen, hands open, shards of ceramic and a pool of coffee at her feet.

“What the fuck?” I demanded.

“Sorry,” she said instantly, closin’ her hands, then starin’ at them as if she couldn’t remember what she’d been holdin’. “I was…shit. I broke your mug. I’ll buy you guys a new one.”

“Don’t give a fuck about the mug, Mei,” I muttered, tossin’ the towel over an open hook by the door and stalkin’ toward her. I still had my unlaced boots on from trekkin’ up the stony path from the beach, so I didn’t mind the broken pieces as I hauled Mei into my arms despite her squawk of protest and then carried her over to the island. I plunked her down by the sink and glared at her. “I meant, what the fuck are you doin’ outta bed? You’ve got a damn concussion.”

She stared at me blankly for so long that I pressed a hand to her forehead to feel if she’d come down with a fever overnight. It was unlikely, but if I’d been wrong about internal bleedin’, I’d need to rush her to the hospital.

“You don’t feel hot, but you’re clearly outta it. You shouldn’t be up walkin’ around.”

“I was hungry,” she admitted, gaze fallin’ down to my bare chest and back up so quickly I almost missed it.

“Thought you’d be sleepin’, so I did my routine in the gym and took a dip, but you could’ve texted. I’ll make you somethin’ after I clean this up.”

I enjoyed a couple of minutes of silence that clearly meant Mei was still in serious pain from the beatin’ and the concussion ’cause she never obeyed so easily. I cleaned up the broken mug and the coffee, then started the machine to brew a fresh pot and got rice, ginger, and chicken stock out to make congee without even thinkin’ about it.

“What are you making?” she demanded sharply while I rinsed the rice before addin’ it to the pot on the stove.

“What’s it look like?”

“Congee.”

“Good to see the triad didn’t rattle your brain too hard,” I said dryly as I added eight cups of chicken stock.

“But you hate congee.”

“Good thing I’m havin’ a protein shake instead, then. This is for you.”

A long pause. Even though I wasn’t facin’ her, I could imagine the look of confusion drawin’ two lines between her brows.

“Why are you making me breakfast?” she asked slowly, suspiciously, like she thought I’d fuckin’ poison her or somethin’.

“Jesus, Mei, you were just fucked up by a group of Seven Song thugs last night and left in a fuckin’ dumpster. You think I’m above makin’ you somethin’ comfortin’ for breakfast?”

“I think you hate me, and the last thing you said before you rescued me from Purgatory was that I was the most dangerous thing you knew. It’s understandable I might be a little confused this morning, especially when you seemed pissed at me even after you brought me back here.”

I’d been pissed.

No, not just pissed.

Fuckin’ incensed. The kinda anger that was particular to someone I knew and cared about gettin’ hurt on my watch. I was a trained fuckin’ soldier, a goddamn educated doctor, a motherfuckin’Fallen brother,and I still couldn’t seem to keep the people around me from harm.

How could I be anythin’ but royally pissed with myself?

I’d acted savagely last night. Takin’ Mei like she was my enemy then discardin’ her without a fuckin’ care, leavin’ her in a place that wasn’t safe even when the door locked with that flimsy fuckin’ chain.

I closed my eyes against the current of self-loathin’ that threatened to pull me under. I was so busy deep breathin’, I didn’t hear Mei slide carefully off the counter and walk over to my side. When she touched my back lightly, I acted on instinct, droppin’ the wooden spoon I’d been usin’ to stir the congee to twist and grab Mei by the wrist.

We both froze. I loomed over her, reminded of how fuckin’ slight she was when she always projected such a dangerous, self-contained edge. She looked so fragile this mornin’ with one eye painted in purples and blues, her lip puffy and held together with a butterfly bandage, her cheeks swollen beyond their usual steep angle. The damage was horrible, and it made me feel like a fuckin’ bastard.