Page 100 of From the Ashes
"Very well. Thank you, Doyle. You're a marvel."
He left, but I neither rested nor returned to Lincoln's bedroom. I was too tightly wound to sleep. I set my teacup down on the desk and began searching for a list of the supernaturals and where they'd gone. The task helped distract me from the man lying on the bed, and from what had transpired tonight. I didn't want to think about the general, of what he'd done and tried to do. Nor did I want to explore the emotions rolling through me.
Yet I couldn't help it when I saw my engagement ring in its box. The box was open, as it had been every time I came into Lincoln's rooms.
I rummaged through drawers, willing myself not to think about our broken engagement, of what might have been if he'd never sent me away. But I couldn't help it. The ring drew me back again and again, until I finally picked up the box. It was a beautiful ring with its multi-faceted diamond, but it was no longer mine.
Unless I wanted it. I suspected Lincoln wanted me to be his fiancée again, but I couldn't go back to the way things were, the wayIwas. I wasn't that girl anymore. I wasn't foolishly in love with the perfect man. Lincoln wasn't perfect.
Nor was I.
The pad of heavy footsteps coming from the bedroom had me dropping the ring box and leaping out of the chair. Lincoln appeared in the doorway, looking disheveled and groggy butalive. "Charlie," he croaked.
"You're awake," I said, going to him. I kept my arms folded over my chest and dug my fingernails into my palms to stop myself from going to him.
He slumped against the doorframe, his shoulders stooped and tangles of hair falling over his eyes. "Barely." He touched the bruise on his forehead and grunted.
I blinked back tears and bit the inside of my cheek to hide my grin. It was so good to see him alive and talking, even if he looked like he'd just survived the apocalypse. "You should rest some more."
He suddenly looked up at me and stumbled forward. I caught him as he put a hand out to the doorframe. He managed to stay upright, but I clung to him as tightly as he clung to me. His shirt was still open from when Dr. Fawkner had unbuttoned it and I pressed my cheek to his chest. The steady, rhythmic beat of his heart was the most wonderful sound I'd heard all evening. I closed my eyes and drew in his smoky scent.
His breathing fanned my hair on the top of my head, and he lightly stroked my neck. "You're unharmed." His voice rumbled in my ear, more gravely from the smoke, but no less rich.
"Yes."
"Gus? The others?"
"Gus is wounded but not badly. Cook and Seth are fine. General Eastbrooke is dead."
He seemed unsurprised and I realized he must have known the general was our villain once he saw his coachman in the kitchen with the gun that had shot Gus, and the explosive device that had caused so much damage.
"How long have I slept?" he asked.
"Not long." Reluctantly, I pulled away. He reached for me, but I caught his hand and held it instead of letting him draw me close. He looked exhausted. The shadows around his eyes were almost as dark as the bruise on his forehead. "You must rest, Lincoln."
"I can't."
"You can."
"I need to—"
"No." I put up my finger. "The only thing you need to do is rest. Dr. Fawkner said so. The danger has passed and everything is being taken care of."
"You're beautiful when you're ordering me about."
I sucked in a breath.Be strong, Charlie. Don't give in. "Did you keep notes on where the supernaturals have gone, or is it all in your head?"
"Both. There's a coded document in the middle drawer of my desk. It lists the names and locations of them all."
"And the code?"
He tapped his forehead.
"That's not very helpful. What if you'd—?" I bit my lip because it threatened to wobble.
"The code is kept in a safety deposit box in my bank. It's one of many. If anything ever happens to me, remember to check it. The bank details are in my wall safe." He nodded at the painting of an idyllic country scene on the wall. "I change the code to that regularly, but the current code is your birth date."
I blinked.
