Kelly Meding - Wrong Side of Dead

Maybe I can talk someone into doing a little two-man patrol. I need out.

After I change into jeans and a T-shirt, I nearly smash right into Milo at the living quarters entrance. He’s in regular clothes rather than his patrol outfit, but he’s definitely on his way somewhere.

“Hey, sorry,” he says.

“Are you heading into the city?”

He blinks rapidly. “Uh, yes?”

“That wasn’t a trick question, Milo.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m taking Felix into the city for his appointment with a pain management specialist.”

As soon as he speaks, the object of conversation hobbles around the corner and into view. Given the horrific injuries he sustained weeks ago at the claws of a genetically engineered hound, Felix looks good. He’s upright and mobile, even if he manages to hide the pain he’s in constantly because of nerve damage. He’ll probably never go out on patrol again, but Astrid agreed to let him come in as an Operations communications coordinator—which is a fancy way of saying he monitors our phone calls when we’re out. It isn’t what he’s used to, but he’s here with Kismet, Milo, and Tybalt. His family.

I envy that through all of the drama and injuries of the last few months, the four of them are still together. My heart aches for Jesse and Ash, and for the closeness I once shared with Wyatt.

“Hey, Evy,” Felix says, offering a pained smile. “You gaining weight?”

If I was any other kind of a girl, I’d slug him for such a thing. As it is, the observation is a compliment. “A little, yeah. One of these days I might even be able to do a roundhouse again.”

“You always seem to manage anything you put your mind to.”

“Mostly.” I clear my throat. “Listen, you mind if I tag along with you guys today?”

His eyebrows furrow. “You want to come to my doctor’s appointment?”

“Not particularly, no, but I need to get out of here. I haven’t left since I first arrived—Phin hasn’t signed off on me being fit for patrolling—and I’m going a little stir-crazy.”

“I hear that.”

“No one’s going to wring my neck for taking you into the city, are they?” Milo asks.

“I doubt it. No one ever said I couldn’t leave, I just haven’t yet.”

The guys exchange a look.

“Come on,” Felix says. “We’ll get some burgers or something afterward.”

Considering the diet of lean protein, complex carbs, and vegetables (weight gain without inducing high cholesterol was apparently the point of such a diet) I’ve been on since my abduction, the idea of a juicy hamburger with the works and a pile of crispy fries makes my mouth water. It must also affect the look on my face, because Felix laughs.

The walk from the living quarters to the parking area isn’t unusually long, but Felix is red-faced and sweating by the time we reach the corridor outside Operations. He accepts silent help from Milo, draping his arm across the slightly shorter man’s shoulders and leaning some weight on him. To the former Hunter, the show of weakness must be almost as painful as the nerve damage causing it.

Milo has the keys for Kismet’s Explorer, and he helps Felix climb up into the passenger seat. The hair on the back of my neck prickles. I glance over my shoulder.

Marcus is watching from the entrance to the parking area. He nods at me, then turns and walks away. I stare at the vacant spot where he stood just a moment ago, confused.

“Evy?” Milo asks. “You okay?”

I shake myself out of it. “Yeah, fine. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The appointment is at 4:30, which means the schedule is already backed up by about an hour. The fact that the doctor’s office is in a wing of St. Eustachius Hospital next to the Emergency Room has me on hyperalert. Two of the staff members here once saw me as a frozen corpse, and I don’t need the recognition. Not to mention that, the last time I was here, Felix lied to my face about Wyatt being attacked by a were-cat and then utterly failed at kidnapping me.

Unfortunately, we can’t discuss these amusing anecdotes out loud in a waiting room full of normal people here for their own appointments. So we trade magazines and stare at the news program playing on the room’s only television. As far as mundane tasks go, it’s oddly refreshing.

Felix is more restless than I am, and I don’t know him well enough to guess if it’s physical pain or hospital memories. Forty-five minutes past his appointment time, he leans a bit toward Milo, who’s sitting between us, and whispers, “You know what this feels like? It’s the same damned waiting room.”

My ears perk, but I don’t look up from the article on fall fashion tips I’m trying to pretend I want to read.

“The day you guys brought Lucas in and were waiting for word,” Milo replies.

“Yeah.”

“The Hunter Kismet was involved with?” I ask. Two heads swivel in my direction, two pairs of eyes wide and curious. “Um, girl talk.” Something occurs to me. “Shit, tell me you both knew.”

“We knew,” Felix says. “We’re just surprised she told you.”

“If it helps, she told me right before I went off with Thackery, so she probably didn’t expect I’d repeat it.” My intention is humor, but the words don’t come out that way. They’re almost sad. And now that the topic is open, I crave the conversation. “How long did you know about it?”

“Tybalt and I suspected for a while, but the way she acted when Lucas died kind of proved it. We told Milo about it a while after.”

Makes sense. “He was a good Hunter?”

“One of the best. Great physical fighter, quick thinker. He never judged you, no matter your past.” Felix falls silent, withdrawing the way one does when memory overcomes you, his face shadowed with grief.

“You and Tybalt didn’t judge me, either, when I showed up,” Milo says.

Felix’s entire body seems to flinch, and I suddenly feel like an intruder in a private conversation. “I did,” he says. “I was awful to you those first couple of weeks.”

“Because your best friend had just dropped dead in front of you from an aneurysm, Felix. I mean, after I came out.”

The simple way Milo says it, especially in front of me, is astonishing, and it leaves no doubt as to his meaning—and it’s an answer to a question I’ve been unable to articulate for a while now. Since the hounds attacked the cabin all those weeks ago and I started wondering …

I have no idea what my face looks like, but it catches Felix’s attention. His raised eyebrow, in turn, gets Milo to look at me. “Dude, not judging,” I say to Milo. Then to Felix, “But if you had given him a hard time, I’d have to punch you in the head retroactively.”

Felix grins, and it brings a lightness to his pain-pinched face. A nurse arrives and calls him to come with her. Milo helps him stand, then waits until he shuffles off with the nurse before he sits again. Deciphering emotions isn’t really my strong suit, but I’ve had some very recent experience in the realm of unreturned feelings.

“Does he know?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

Milo laces his fingers in his lap and asks, “Know what?”

I resist rolling my eyes. “How you feel, dumbass.”

“About what? Felix and Tybalt are brothers to me. I’d do anything for them.”

“So not what I meant.”

He heaves a put-upon sigh. I’m not letting it go and he knows it. “It doesn’t matter, Evy. It’s my problem.”

“Problem?” The description throws me a bit.

“Yeah. I let myself fall in love with my very straight partner, so it’s my problem.” He finally turns his head and glares at me. “Can we talk about something else now, please?”