Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X #1)(97)
Author: Richelle Mead

“I know,” said Mae glumly. “But Whitetree told me she’s still in the hospital. I can’t believe I did that. This is something I have to understand.” The pillow talk had hit her hard. Maybe it was all this rumination on life and death, but Mae had to see for herself what she’d done to Kavi, even if it would end in ranting and hostility.

“Understood. I’ll leave you to it.” Justin downed the last of his coffee and set the empty mug next to her vase of roses. “Nice flowers. Did your gentleman caller bring them?”

“No…Lucian sent them.” She braced herself for snark, but none came. “Nothing to say?”

“You can do what you want.” But he still hesitated. “Will he get a second date?”

“He hasn’t gotten a first one.”

That satisfied Justin. He left shortly thereafter, and Mae headed to the base, which she hadn’t been out to since the funeral. The hospital wing’s receptionist directed her to Kavi’s room, which was in a secure hallway guarded by regular military. It increased Mae’s unease, but she reminded herself that a prætorian was no ordinary patient. Of course she’d be in a special section. The room was the farthest one in the hall, again adding to its importance. The door was open, and a monitor outside it read KAVI, DRUSILLA—PRT. Mae readied herself and entered the room. No going back now.

Kavi sat up in a standard hospital bed, the broken leg wrapped in a bandaged cast. A picked-over food tray showed she’d just had breakfast, and her eyes were on a screen running a story about Lucian Darling, of all people. She turned as Mae took a few more steps forward, and then, the most astonishing thing happened.

Kavi smiled.

Mae couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen that happen. Kavi was always prickly, and even when Mae and Porfirio had dated, Kavi had never seemed impressed with her cohort brother’s girlfriend. But there was no mistaking it now. Kavi was smiling, and there was nothing forced or polite about it.

“Mae,” she said, her face filling with delight. “What a nice surprise.”

The use of her first name startled Mae almost as much as the smile. “Kavi—er, Drusilla. It’s nice to see you too. You look good.”

Kavi chuckled and ran a hand through her hair. “Thank you for being so nice. I need a haircut. Or at least a decent blow dryer.”

Mae tried to smile back, but the completely unexpected nature of this encounter had left her off balance. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Everyone here is so nice. I wish I could go home, but they say I need more time. Doctors know best.”

“I suppose they do.” Mae still couldn’t understand the extended stay. What had she done? How could one broken leg be so debilitating? “Are you in much pain?”

“No pain at all.” She nodded toward a table by the wall. “Look at those lilies Newton brought me. The Indigos are always coming by with flowers. Isn’t that nice?”

The dreamy quality of Kavi’s voice, the distracted look in her eyes, and her fourth use of “nice” finally tipped Mae off. Kavi must have been drugged. Nothing sedative, obviously. It was just enough to make her…well, nice. Why was that necessary for a leg injury? Maybe Kavi had annoyed the doctors so much that they’d decided to make their lives a little easier when dealing with her.

“They’re beautiful,” Mae told her. “I should’ve brought you some too.” She could’ve used Lucian’s roses.

“It’s okay. I know how busy you are.”

Mae took a deep breath and plunged forward with her whole reason for visiting. “Look…Drusilla…I just wanted to apologize for what I did at the funeral. It was wrong, and I’m so sorry.”

Kavi’s smile never dimmed. “You don’t have to apologize. We were all a little worked up.”

Mae wasn’t sure “worked up” was exactly adequate. Kavi had called Mae a f**king castal bitch, and Mae had beaten her face into a bloody pulp.

“I still shouldn’t have done it,” she said lamely.

“We all miss him.” At last, Kavi lost a little of her happy haze as she stared off into space. “I used to talk to him. Porfirio. Or, well, I thought I did. The doctors said it was part of being sick. They gave me more medicine, and now I don’t see him.” She turned back to Mae. “Do you ever see him?”

“I—no, of course not. He’s dead. The dead don’t come back.”

“I suppose not.” Kavi brightened again. “If he did, I know he’d forgive you. He loved you very much.”

Mae bit her tongue. Porfirio would forgive her? She’d kept the memories of their last time together tucked far, far away in the back of her mind, but Kavi’s words suddenly brought them out. Until that last day, he’d been content to vent his feelings in calls and messages. He’d at least upgraded Mae from a “castal bitch” to a “Nordic bitch,” and as the harassment continued, Mae had found it easier to endure. She had just shut down more and more, refusing to feel anything. After a while, he must’ve realized that, so he’d finally decided an in-person visit might actually have an impact.

She’d let him inside, hoping the gesture might allow a civilized conversation, though she should’ve known better. His accusations always varied, and that day he’d decided she must have refused his proposal because she was cheating on him.

“Who are you f**king?” he’d yelled. “Who are you f**king?”

No protest of hers could’ve gotten through to him, and her silence infuriated him. In fact, his reaction had been similar to Kavi’s at the funeral. Once again, she became a Nordic bitch, a heartless one who was incapable of any real feelings.

Porfirio, however, had had no shortage of emotions as his rant continued. “What does it take? What does it take for you to feel anything?”

And that was when the familiar refrain had ended. Mae’s reflexes and instincts had failed because she’d never dreamed that Porfirio, even in the throes of his grief and rage, would attack. He’d thrown her to the floor, pinning her wrists and holding her down with his greater weight. The screaming stopped, and the sudden lowering of his voice was actually more menacing. “You will feel something,” he’d told her. “You’re still mine, and I will make you feel.”

Mae had felt something. Fear. She’d never given rape a second thought in her life until that moment. Her status had kept her too sheltered on the Nordic grant, and a few fights after joining the military had caused both men and women to tread lightly around her. She’d lived confidently with her own skills and strength. But there on the floor, Porfirio’s were superior. Maybe in a canne match, her speed would’ve compensated. Her implant provided extra strength, but his did the same for him. Ultimately, his natural edge in strength had dominated.