Page 19 of Shadow (Marinah and the Apocalypse #1)

Marinah

T he pounding in my head dragged me out of sleep, and the churning nausea sent me stumbling to the bathroom. The contents of my stomach came up violently, leaving the acidic burn of bile in my throat. I clutched the cool porcelain of the toilet, gripping it like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, I wished I could yank my stomach out and rid myself of the misery altogether.

“Never again,” I thought, but it was a lie I had told myself before, even if it had been years since the last time. I knew damned good and well the suffering I would feel that day. Too bad it didn’t stop me.

After what felt like an eternity, the nausea finally subsided. I pushed myself up, feeling wrung out but oddly lighter, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of its poor decisions. As I stumbled back into the bedroom, my eyes scanned for any sign of King. The rumpled covers were a chaotic mess, and the faint indent where he had sat on the bed the previous night taunted me with the memory of his presence.

It wasn’t a dream.

Damn. That was definitely not good.

Fragments of the night before came rushing back. Me asking him to have sex was at the top. The way his hand felt on my leg, the heat in his gaze. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment as I groaned internally. Maybe I should have just dug a deep hole and buried myself in it to escape that day’s humiliation.

Instead, I grabbed fresh clothes from the closet and retreated to the shower. The pounding water did little to erase the mortification etched into my brain, but at least it cleared the last vestiges of sleep. As I slipped into workout pants, a fitted shirt, and my athletic shoes, I steeled myself for the inevitable. The sooner I saw King and faced the consequences of my drunken idiocy, the better. I’d play dumb, pretend I didn’t remember a thing. I definitely wouldn’t think about how his touch lingered or the unsettling desire still simmering beneath my skin.

I had never realized I had lust heightened so high that I would do something this stupid. I’d cut that part of myself off. Fear was a great motivator when it came to quelling desire. The last thing I needed was to be attracted to a man who might kill me.

It pissed me off that I wanted him at all.

No. It could not happen, and it was up to me to ensure it never did.

With a killer headache and all the courage I could muster, I stepped out of my room. Two different guards snapped to attention, their stoic faces giving away nothing.

Time to face the music.

“Do you know where His Majesty is?” I asked the guards, keeping my tone as neutral as possible.

Blank stares.

“King, your leader. Do you know where he’s at?” I tried again.

Still nothing.

“Would it be possible to eat breakfast somewhere other than my room?”

“We will escort you to the cafeteria,” one of them finally replied.

Well, at least that question warranted an answer. I rubbed my hands together in mock enthusiasm. “Oh, goodie. A new room to explore.” I didn’t mention my desperate need for coffee and aspirin. I’d save that for the kitchen staff, if they existed. Predictably, the guards ignored both my words and my hangover-induced snark.

I followed them through yet another labyrinth of hallways. Every time I thought I had grasped even a basic understanding of this building’s layout, I was taken in a new direction, further confirming that the place was a damn maze. When we turned the final corner, it opened into a massive cafeteria.

About twenty Warriors in human form sat at a long table, eating in companionable silence. I knew they were Warriors due to their size and unimaginative wardrobe of leather chest straps. It was the most I had seen together since arriving. Two men sat at a smaller table in the corner, their curious eyes following me briefly before their gazes moved on without a word. The mingled smells of food were almost overwhelming for my still-fragile stomach, but then the faint aroma of bacon reached my nose, and the world felt a little steadier.

No. Coffee first.

I made a beeline for a large pot and poured a cup to the brim. Before the war, I would have indulged in an almond milk latte drowned in flavored syrup and sugar. Now, black coffee was my go-to, a small but necessary survival mechanism I had picked up at the Federation compound where luxuries like cream and sugar were distant memories.

The first sip of bitter liquid felt like salvation.

As I savored the caffeine infusion, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. A slightly familiar figure approached. It took a moment, because the pool area had been so dark, but I finally recognized him as the doctor who had treated me my first night here. His gait was relaxed, his expression approachable, and he was dressed more casually than the others, with his chest covered by a yellow T-shirt with a cheesy slogan. He did wear standard Shadow Warrior pants, but no leather chest straps in sight.

Where most of the Warriors carried an air of intimidation, “Warrior eyes” and rigid, no-nonsense jaws, the doctor’s demeanor was softer, his jaw accustomed to smiling. Yet nothing about his muscular frame suggested he was any less capable than the others. If anything, his perceived kindness made him more disarming, which was probably just as dangerous.

He headed straight for me, a friendly look on his face.

Here we go.

“Axel,” he said, extending a large hand. “You look tired.”

I shook his hand, skipping introductions since he obviously knew who I was. “Exactly what every woman wants to hear after she’s worked really hard to look her best,” I replied with a sarcastic edge. His expression shifted to stricken, and I actually laughed, though it hurt my head. “Relax, you’re fine. It’s called a hangover, and I’m definitely not proud.”

“I’ll take a guess. Good Cuban rum?”

“Change ‘good’ to ‘disgusting,’ and you’re spot on.”

“Disgusting going down or coming up?” A smile replaced his earlier concern.

“Oh, it was fantastic going down,” I admitted, laughing despite myself. “But I don’t mean to be rude. I’m still a little unsteady on my feet. I need to sit down before gravity gets the best of me and I embarrass myself.”

He gestured toward the impressive chow line with a nod. “Take a seat. I’ll make you a plate.”

I glanced toward the food, and my stomach lurched slightly. “Just bacon. Mounds of bacon, nothing else.”

I made my way to the small table recently vacated by the two Warriors and sank into a chair. My first long sip of hot coffee felt like a lifeline, even though it burned my tongue. By the second sip, my stomach started to settle. If it weren’t for the pounding headache, I might have even passed as functional.

A plate landed in front of me, and Axel took the chair across from mine. I looked down at the heaping pile of food, easily a pound of bacon and just as much fruit. “You don’t follow directions well,” I said, eyeing the plate. Despite my comment, I wasn’t really complaining. The fruit looked amazing, a rarity in my diet.

I started with the bacon, and as I chewed, my thoughts drifted inevitably back to my vegetarian days. This should have revolted me, but it only made me hungry for more. I should at least feel guilt, but hunger and the looming threat of starvation had a funny way of changing my perspective. Or at least that’s what I tried to pawn it off on. The years of tasteless gruel didn’t help either.

The doctor pulled me from my thoughts. “You seem to have survived our unique sauna room without too much damage.”

I glanced up from my plate. “Thanks for helping me. At least someone around here understands hospitality.”

His grin widened. “I see why you’ve managed to stir up so much trouble.”

I didn’t touch that one with a ten-foot pole. Instead, I grunted and silently thanked King for sharing his rendition of a non-answer, and myself for perfecting it. “The hospitality here will be legendary. After nearly killing me, I’ve got my own room, complete with guards.” I nodded toward the doorway where the guards stood, waiting patiently for me to finish eating. “Now, if I could just get some reading material, I might upgrade this place to two stars.”

His pleasant laughter actually soothed my headache a bit. “Reading material I can help with. And I might have something for the headache you’re probably nursing.”

I finished chewing a piece of bacon before flashing him a grin. “You’re officially my new best friend.”

His smile grew, and I knew for sure it was just who he was. “I’d like that,” he said warmly. “Now eat and drink your coffee. Then we can address your other problems.”

“Other problems?”

“You have an appointment with Boot, if I’m not mistaken.”

I groaned and dropped my head dramatically. “Please don’t remind me.”

“Working the alcohol out of your system with a little sweat won’t hurt.”

“You have no idea what you’re saying,” I replied, shaking my head. “It’s not the alcohol that will hurt. It’s my face when it lands on the mat. This mug wasn’t built for squishing.”

He laughed, and despite my misery, I couldn’t help smiling. I took his advice and ate quickly. The fresh fruit was just what I needed, even better than the coffee for settling my stomach. If it weren’t for the steady pounding in my head, I might have even felt halfway human again.

Axel grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to me as we headed down yet another hallway. “Finish this before you train,” he said.

I liked him. He was the first Shadow Warrior who had shown me kindness from the start. He would definitely be one of the reasons my father thought so highly of them. “Did you know my father?” I asked as we walked.

“I did. He was a good man. You look like him.”

Most people who had known my mother used to say I looked like her. No one had ever compared me to my father. Axel’s expression was sincere, and his honesty warmed me. I had always thought I had my father’s smile. Maybe that was what he saw.

Axel led me into a suite of rooms clearly designed for medical care. The outer office had a bed against one wall, a table and chairs on the other, and cabinets lining the upper walls with counter space below. “Take a seat,” he said, opening a cabinet and retrieving a bottle of pills.

I sat at the table, glancing around while sipping my water. One of the inner doors was slightly ajar, and I could see someone lying on a medical bed inside. From the size of the figure beneath the blanket, it looked like a man. I couldn’t be certain, though. Who knew what their women looked like?

“Shadow Warriors get sick like everyone else?” I asked, nodding toward the occupied bed.

“Only the dumb ones,” Axel replied with a wry grin as he shook a few pills into his hand.

Axel’s emphatic tone made me laugh. “Did the rum make its way around last night, or was it just me?”

“You for the rum, hellhounds for the Warriors,” he replied dryly.

“Did they kill the two you have?”

He crossed his arms and studied me. “King told you about the two we hold?”

“King did more than tell me, he showed me. Alcohol didn’t numb the sight or the smell.” A shiver ran through me, the revulsion tangible on my skin.

Axel steepled his fingers, lightly tapping them together as if deep in thought. “Did he explain what they are?”

His careful tone wasn’t lost on me. He was testing the waters, gauging how much I knew. Perhaps he realized that knowing too much might seal my fate. How ridiculous, yet how true.

“Yes,” I said carefully. “I know we’re really fighting hellhumans, not hounds.”

He exhaled, a hint of relief in his expression. “We still call them hounds. It’s easier than thinking of them as what they used to be.”

I got it. I felt the same. But something had been nagging at me since King revealed what they’d learned, something I had been too scared to ask at the time.

“I never saw my father’s body. Is he one of those things now?”

I dreaded the answer. Even thinking in those terms about my mother was too much to bear, though deep down, I already knew the probability of an endless death was not in her favor.

Axel shook his head, and a thread of relief loosened the tight knot in my chest. I pushed thoughts of my parents aside for now.

“We’re not sure how long it takes for them to transform,” he said, “but no, your father will not become one of them.”

I had no idea what they did to assure it, and I wouldn’t ask. My father wouldn’t have wanted to become something that killed mindlessly.

“Do you know why they don’t eat us?” I asked, latching onto the question to avoid spiraling into darker thoughts. Hollywood zombies were my only frame of reference, and according to them, these creatures should have been devouring our flesh and organs.

Axel shrugged. “They don’t need sustenance to survive. That’s the best explanation we’ve got. They don’t get skinny or fat, they don’t digest food, and they don’t expel waste. Their brains show some activity. It’s a kind of misfire rather than a functional current, but for all intents and purposes, they’re dead.”

“How did you check their brain activity?” I asked, curiosity piqued. Considering the hounds turned to dust when they died, the scans must have been done while they were alive.

“Brain scans, just like it was done pre-war,” he replied matter-of-factly.

The Warriors seemed to have found more efficient ways to run their electrical grid that didn’t attract hounds. The Federation claimed that electromagnetic pulses caused by the hounds disrupted everything, but they also said our food supplies were limited. It was another claim I had started to doubt. My father had once grumbled about the upper echelon enjoying too much good cuisine. I hadn’t connected the dots back then. Seeing how King and his people ate, I was now questioning everything I previously thought.

“I’d like to take another look at the hounds,” I said.

“You’ll need King’s permission for that.” Axel gestured toward the room where the man lay beneath the blanket. “He should be waking up soon if you want to ask him yourself.”

“King slept in there?”

“Not by choice. He’s the dumb one who went hunting hellhounds last night.”

Two things hit me at once: Axel wasn’t talking about the hounds they had already captured, and King had been injured.

Before the good doctor could stop me, I was up and moving. At the foot of the bed, I caught sight of King’s face, half-buried beneath the blanket.

The doctor leaned casually against the doorway. “He took a bite to the shoulder. It’ll be sore for a few days, but it won’t stop him from pulling another crazy stunt.”

My stunned gaze remained on Axel. “He can survive a hellhound bite?” From the conversations I had with my father, I knew hellhound saliva was as deadly to the Warriors as it was to humans.

Axel nodded. “We’ve developed a formula since arriving on the island. If we administer a combination of antibiotics with some other ingredients immediately after a scratch or bite, it gives our bodies a chance to heal. Humans, however, don’t heal like we do, so we’re not sure if we’ll ever create an antidote that works for you.” He offered a faint, wry smile. “From the number of bites and scratches King’s had recently, I’m surprised he isn’t immune.”

“Now you’ve left me no choice but to kill her,” King growled from the bed.

I turned toward the voice and saw him trying, and failing miserably, to sit up. I moved closer to the head of the bed. “You don’t scare me. I know I’m not having my best day, but you look like something the cat dragged in.”

“Poor cat,” Axel mumbled. “Save your threats for someone they’ll work on, King. I think she has your number.”

I gave King my most wicked smile. “If by ‘number’ you mean 666, then yeah, I do.”

“That’s a good one,” Axel chuckled. “I’ll have to remember it.” He backed out the door. “Keep my patient in bed, and I’ll owe you one. I’ve got a few things to check on.”

And just like that, I was alone with King.

Last night. Oh God. Maybe he didn’t remember.

But when he patted the bed beside him, the exact spot where he’d sat on mine the previous evening, with a developing smirk on his lips, I knew I couldn’t be that lucky.

“Scared?” he asked softly, his tone laced with a challenge.

“Petrified,” I replied with more sass than I actually felt. At least the pills Axel had given me should kick in soon. I sat down cautiously, my gaze drifting to the man who had occupied my thoughts all morning.

“How bad is it?” I asked, my voice quieter now. The blanket rested at his waist, and he was more slouched than propped up on the pillow.

“I’ll be fine in a few hours,” he said, brushing off the concern. “How’s the head?”

I needed to look anywhere but at the muscles that had my attention locked in a vise grip. Was I drooling? I discreetly wiped at my mouth, just in case.

“Cat got your tongue?”

I laughed despite myself. “If it’s the same cat that dragged you in here, then probably so.”

He was pale and visibly tired, and yet I was responding to him in a way that confused me. I was sober now, and I didn’t like the bulky muscle look. Liar, my brain screamed as a sharp pang jabbed my head, making me grimace.

“My head is still attached, if that’s what you’re asking,” I said, deflecting. “And I apologize for anything I might’ve said or done last night. I don’t remember much of it.”

His laugh was louder than I had ever heard before, and the sound caught me off guard. “Oh, you remember. Your cheeks went pink when I invited you to sit on the bed. You remember everything you said.”

This couldn’t possibly get worse.

“Okay, maybe I remember some of it.”

His eyes locked on mine, and I was surprised he hadn’t barked at me for holding his gaze. It was safer than looking at his chest again, because that would definitely send my heartbeat into overdrive.

Suddenly, his hand shot out from beneath the covers and grabbed mine. The unexpected movement startled me so much that I jumped, half slipping off the bed. In the process, I lost my balance.

While sitting.

Oh, God, it can get worse, I thought, flailing as I planted my free hand against the mattress in an attempt to steady myself.

He caught my other hand as well, stabilizing me while pushing me upright until our faces were mere inches apart. His piercing eyes locked on mine.

“Beast has a problem with you.”

I blinked, momentarily dumbfounded. “That’s the most romantic thing a man has ever said to me.”

A faint twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed him, hinting at a suppressed smile. “You need to hang out with better men.”

The air between us felt charged. We were so close we were practically sharing the same breath. His eyes darkened, the blue deepening until they were almost black.

“Your eyes just changed,” I said, unable to hide my fascination.

“That’s not the only thing that’s changed.” His voice dropped, and I felt something pressing against my hip.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he meant.

Heat flooded my face, and I pushed away, giving myself some space. He let me, but there was a flicker of frustration in his expression.

“Why aren’t you training?” he asked, his tone edging toward irritation.

I met his question with a shrug, unbothered. “I gave Boot the slip by ducking in here with the doctor for pain relief.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, his lips curling back into a smirk. “Maybe I’ll give Boot the day off and take care of your training myself.”

“You don’t look like you can walk, let alone train anyone,” I countered. “I’ll find Boot and be a good little girl.”

His brow arched, and there was a knowing gleam in his gaze. “Somehow, good little girl doesn’t suit you. Axel was only half right. Beast has your number, too.”

I tried to brush off his words, but they struck a nerve. He wasn’t wrong. I had always been an open book, easily read by those who cared to try.

“You talk about Beast like he’s a separate entity,” I said, tilting my head, curiosity overriding my usual caution. “Are you one and the same, or is he like a split personality that takes over?”

To my surprise, he answered. “We’re trained to separate the two in our heads. Once we grow into our Beast, our human side leads but allows him full rein when needed. Controlling both sides takes time.”

His words hung in the air, their weight sinking into me as I tried to process what it must have felt like to live with such a dichotomy.

If he was in the mood to answer questions, I might as well take the leap. “Help us. Fight with us. I’ll do everything I can to keep the Federation in check and make sure they keep their promises so you don’t feel betrayed again.”

His eyes hardened, and his jaw tightened. “Feelings have nothing to do with it. We were betrayed. They didn’t stumble into their actions. They set out to imprison and study us. That was their intent from the start. It will never happen again because if it does, we’ll kill every human who tries.”

The sharpness of his words stung, and I felt the weight of the atrocities my government had committed against the Shadow Warriors.

“You’re right, and I’m sorry.” The apology came straight from my heart, unprompted by obligation. It wasn’t a scripted sentiment but a genuine regret for what the Federation had done to them.

“You’ve apologized,” he said.

“That apology was for them,” I clarified softly. “This one is for me. And for my father,” I added, the words catching slightly in my throat. “My dad didn’t trust our government either. Now that I know about the hellhounds, and that he may have known the truth, I understand why he felt the way he did.”

For a moment, the tension eased as King took my hand again, his thumb brushing softly over the back of it. The gesture was unexpectedly tender, and I felt the faintest flicker of hope.

“Go train,” he said, his voice quieter now.

Our time was up. It was probably for the best. I forced myself to release his hand and rise.

Maybe, just maybe, he would let me go home someday.