He left his room, his legs working in a gawky gait, his arms swinging loose, his balance off.
As he got to the head of the grand staircase he lifted his eyes to the ceiling, with its depictions of great warriors.
He prayed he would be one. But he just couldn't see how in the hell he'd pull that off.
Phury woke up to the sight of the female of his dreams. Or maybe he was dreaming?
"Hi," Bella said.
He cleared his throat, and still his voice was reedy as he replied, "Are you really here?"#p#分页标题#e#
"Yes." She took his hand and sat on the edge of his bed. "Right here. How are you feeling?"
Shit, he'd worried her, and that was not good for the young.
With what little energy he had he did a fast mental mop-up, an OxyClean of his brain, sweeping out the dredges of the red smokes he'd fired up, as well as the lethargy of injury and sleep.
"I'm fine," he said, bringing his hand up so he could rub his good eye. Not a great idea. In his fist was his drawing of her, crumpled up like he'd been hugging it in his sleep. He shoved the piece of paper under the covers before she could ask what it was. "You should be in bed."
"I get to be up a little each day."
"Still, you should—"
"When do the bandages come off?"
"Ah, now, I suppose."
"Would you like me to help?"
"No." The last thing they needed was for her to find out he'd been blinded at the same moment he did. "But thank you."
"Can I bring you something to eat?"
Kindness from her hit harder than a tire iron to the ribs. "Thank you, but I'll call Fritz in a little bit. You should go back and lie down."
"I have forty-four minutes left." She checked her watch. "Forty-three."
He pushed himself up on his arms, tugging the sheets higher so less of his chest showed. "How do you feel?"
"Good. Scared but good—"
The door swung open without a knock. As Zsadist walked in, his eyes locked on Bella as if he were trying to gauge her vital signs in her face.
"I thought I'd find you here." He bent down and kissed her on the mouth, then on both sides of the neck over her veins.
Phury looked away during the greeting—and realized that his hand had burrowed under the covers and found his drawing. He forced himself to let it go.
Z's whole attitude was much more relaxed. "So how are you, my brother?"
"Good." Although if he heard that question one more time from either of them, he was going to pull a Scanners, because his head would explode. "Good enough to come out tonight."
His twin frowned. "You get cleared by V's doc?"
"Not up to anyone but me."
"Wrath might have a different opinion."
"Fine, but if he disagrees, he's going to have to chain me down to keep me here." Phury throttled back, not wanting to get tense with Bella around. "You teaching the first half of tonight?"
"Yeah, figured I'd make some more progress on firearms." Z ran his hand down Bella's mahogany hair, stroking it and her back at the same time. He did this without seeming to notice, and she accepted the touch with the same loving disregard.
Phury's chest ached until he had to open his mouth to breathe. "Why don't I meet you guys down at First Meal, okay? I'm going to shower, get the bandages off, dress."
Bella stood up and Z's hand moved to her waist and tucked her into him.
God, they were a family, weren't they? The two of them together with their young in her belly. And in just over a year, if the Scribe Virgin saw fit, they would stand like this with their infant in their arms. Later, years later, their child would be by their side. And then their son or daughter would be mated, and another generation of their blood would carry the race forward: a family, not a fantasy.
To hurry them along, Phury shifted around like he was about to get up.
"I'll see you down in the dining room," Z said, his palm sliding around to his shellan's lower belly. "Bella's going back to bed, aren't you, nalla?"#p#分页标题#e#
She checked her watch. "Twenty-two minutes. I'd better get my bath in."
Various goodbye-like words were exchanged, but Phury didn't pay much attention because he was dying for them to leave. When the door finally shut, he reached for his cane, got out of his bed, and went straight to the mirror over his dresser. He eased off the bandage's tape, then peeled free the layers of gauze. Underneath his lashes were so tangled and matted that he went into the bathroom, ran some water, and rinsed his face a number of times before he could get them apart.
He opened his eye.
And saw perfectly.
His total lack of relief at his fine and dandy sight was eerie. He should have cared. He needed to care. About both his body and himself. He just didn't.