I looked away from his perceptive green eyes. “Do you even remember the world before the war?” My tone was still combative. I’d been a teenager when my world was ripped into pieces. This relaxed specimen of disturbingly pretty manhood had been a boy. He probably couldn’t even remember how dark those years immediately following the war had been. I remembered, and I hated that he didn’t.
“And how old are you?” He glanced at his datapad for the information. “Nora?” He smiled before returning his attention to the compact screen. “Ah, the grand age of thirty-two. Those six years must have made you incredibly wise.”
Was he making fun of me? I didn’t like jokes, and I enjoyed being the object of other people’s amusement even less. How dare he make light of this.
He was a man, I reminded myself, and the world was a different place for men.
“There have been no complications with the procedure, and I expect your son to make a full recovery. Another twenty-four hours, and you’ll be good to go.” His tone remained light and professional.
Yesterday, I’d been sick with worry. Jodi had returned without the medication for Adam. Ava was missing—Ava was still missing, but I needed to deal with one problem at a time.
Today, Adam was no longer a worry—Adam was well. I would never again need to fear for where or how I would acquire his next dose of medication. A slightly less fraught future stretched ahead of me. If only we could go back to our lives.
That wasn’t going to happen because there was no longer a home—no longer a Sanctuary.
I’d heard the explosion as we’d raced away in the SUV. When I’d glanced back, the entire front entrance and ten stories above were collapsing into dust and rubble.
The damage was irreparable.
Eyes filled with hatred fixed upon the doctor. “Go where?” I snapped. “You destroyed my home, remember.” I had no idea where my words kept coming from. But something about Doctor Carter brought out the Irish temper in me.
His countenance shuttered. “Do I look like a soldier?”
Maybe Doctor Carter hadn’t personally destroyed my home, but his people had. He may not be a soldier, but he was a long way from the weakling category, filling out the neatly pressed white shirt in a way that spoke of lean muscle bulk. And who even owned a white shirt anymore? His choice of clothing was as ridiculous as his floppy brown hair.
“You will be given accommodation and your citizenship reviewed,” he said coolly. “I cannot say what will happen after.”
He began tapping notes on his datapad, expression closed like another person had invaded his body. The carefree doctor was gone—the transition made me feel strangely sad.
I couldn’t do this, couldn’t be around men, especially handsome, carefree ones.
“I’ll let the allocations team know that you’re ready to be interviewed,” he stated before turning away.
I watched him stride purposely down the corridor. A nurse stopped him, and he greeted her interruption with a smile before nodding at whatever she was telling him so earnestly. They both left together, disappearing behind another screen.
For the first time in many months, I no longer felt the urge to cry. A weight had been lifted, and in its place was a bereft kind of numb.
Carter
“Doctor Carter, could you have a look at 21C please,” the young nurse asked. “She’s complaining about stomach pains.”
I nodded. “Let’s have a look.”
I went through the process of checking the patient. Once done, and she had been given some additional pain relief, my thoughts returned to the feisty redhead who’d given me a dressing down. She wasn’t the first person to express some incredulity at me being a doctor. Most new arrivals to Taylor’s home city were surprised by both the facility and the staff competence.
Life had been rough before we’d been assimilated into the self-proclaimed King’s world. Taylor had an IQ off the charts and was certainly no pushover physically. He’d only claimed Guilder City when we arrived. But he already had expansion plans and was investing in roles beyond a person’s ability to fight. Blaine and I had both been tested and assessed to see where we might add value.
Blaine was an obvious fit for the forces with his military background, although there was a lengthy probation period where he was watched. Meanwhile, I was shunted into the medical training program. It wasn’t what I wanted to do. I’d grown tough over the years we’d been on our own, and I wanted to follow Blaine.
Taylor didn’t tolerate any insubordination. You got on board with his decisions, or you were kicked out. Blaine had taken me aside and threatened to kick my ass if I didn’t get in line. He might be my brother, and might be prepared to lay his life down to protect me, but he had zero tolerance for my bullshit. I was eleven at the time, full of belligerence and attitude as I moved toward adulthood. With hindsight, I’d needed a firm hand. The soldiering life wasn’t easy. The lower ranks were expendable. You proved yourself, or you died trying. Blaine was lucky that he’d been trained, but it was rough in those first years.
I’d had to watch Blaine return from operations battered and bruised only to get up and do the same the next day. He told me to knuckle down with my studies so I didn’t have to do the same.
And I had.
But Blaine was intelligent, and he hadn’t stayed a grunt for long. Over the years, they had given him genetic enhancements, investing in the best to make them better. He was a tough soldier with a keen sense of operational strategy. By the time Taylor was done, Blaine had had every upgrade a body could handle and took point on leading all the major operations.
The thing about Taylor was that he looked after those who were valuable to him. I made myself valuable. I’d been behind the other students when I arrived, but I was hungry for the knowledge. I studied everything they threw at me, and then some. Everyone who went through the medical training program knew how to handle emergency care. Taylor’s frequent expansion and conquests kept those skills in demand. But he also needed his soldiers in peak condition, and my side specialty was genetics.
The kind of genetics that made my much older brother look more like a thirty-year-old and gave him a fitness level closer to a man of nineteen.
The kind of genetics, at its simplest, that could cure Nora’s baby.
I found myself walking past the bay Nora had been allocated. She was curled up in the chair facing the cot where her baby slept, eyes closed. She needed proper rest, but she refused to budge an inch from the cot. There was a world of hurt behind her pretty facade. Whether it was the medical profession, my age, or men in general, she had a deep-rooted aversion to, I couldn’t say.
I wondered if the baby’s father was still in the picture? If he was, I’d have thought he’d have been allowed to visit by now. And she hadn’t mentioned anyone needing to know. There was a brand at her temple. I was tempted to check it against the database—it wasn’t abusing my privilege; I was merely helping the processing team out.
Who the fuck was I trying to fool? I should back the hell away. An idiot could see she harbored the kind of damage that went soul-deep. Physically, she was healthy. Mentally, she was battling with depression that had been exasperated, I was sure, by her son’s medical condition.