Phin hadn’t come with them. Gabriel wanted someone to stay behind to watch the motel. One guy probably wouldn’t make a difference if they were attacked, but Phin knew when to call it. He’d get everyone to safety before shit really hit the fan. He didn’t fight Gabriel on the order.
Gabriel suspected the reasons for it was tiny and vegan-shaped.
The motel was quiet. He figured the refugees from the other day were sleeping, and Blake was no doubt furiously looking up frostbite and blaming himself for it. As if he could somehow prevent the winter from taking its toll.
Gabriel glanced over toward the infirmary and felt his heart clench. Blake blamed himself for things he couldn’t control. It wasn’t something Gabriel was familiar with. He’d taken lives, and he wore them like a weight around his neck. Sins so heavy some days he could barely stand up straight. But those were his decisions. He aimed down the barrel and pulled the trigger. Took a life, and it didn’t matter that he thought he was doing the right thing. Didn’t matter that there was a gun pointed right back at him.
But Blake didn’t do that. And maybe it wasn’t the intent that mattered. His hands didn’t take the life, but they didn’t save it either. The deaths still etched themselves onto his soul. A life was a life, whether it was taken or not saved.
That was the burden of someone like Blake, he supposed. Where a soldier like Gabriel could accept that there were things in this life he couldn’t do. Whether it was fate, God, or somethingelseentirely, people were going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it.
But Blake was a healer. That special kind of person who never said no, who refused to accept the natural order of the world. Soldiers fight the enemy. Healers fight the reaper.
The last line of defense.
And that was a heavy burden. One Gabriel was going to do his damnedest to help Blake bear.
He reached down to touch the thick bundle stuffed into one of his pockets and smiled. It wasn’t Blake’s usual fare, but he hoped he would enjoy it anyway. They had been walking back from hunting, talking about nothing, and Gabriel happened to look into the backseat of a stalled Sedan and seen the corner of the novel peeking out. He’d brushed off the safety glass and dust, seen the dragon sketched on the cover with gold foil, and immediately stuck it in his pocket. Maybe it would be enough to make Blake smile.
Maybe he’d even read it to Gabriel. Preferably naked.
Victoria scoffed at something Judd said, and it dragged Gabriel’s attention back to the present. He glanced up at the sky.
“How much longer?”
Judd shrugged. “Art takes time.”
“You’ve got two ears too many, Van Gogh. Finish and have this cleaned up before dark.”
With a bloody salute, Judd turned back to the carcass. “Yeah, yeah,” Judd grumbled as he waved a gore-covered knife at him. “Go give Blake his book.”
Gabriel flipped him off.
“How did you get blood on your back?” he heard Victoria ask as he walked away.
“I had an itch.”
Gabriel didn’t linger long enough to hear Victoria’s undoubtedly scathing response to that. It probably just turned Judd on.
With his hand ghosting toward the pocket he used to keep his crochet hook in, Gabriel made his way toward the infirmary. He was careful to open the door quietly. When he got in, he found the room still. The patients were all bundled into their beds, blankets heavy.
Blake’s desk had papers and textbooks scattered all over it, but no Blake. He took a final glance around before slipping back out.
He couldn’t imagine why Blake would be in their room, but he checked that next. The bed was still rumpled, clothes on the floor. The room smelled stale. Stuffy. He couldn’t wait until it was warm enough to open the window and sleep with fresh air.
Blake wasn’t in Irving’s office or helping Sabrina cook. She just shrugged when he asked if she’d seen him. Gabriel promised to bring her a bucket of fresh water after he found Blake and then went to find Tommy.
The EMT was out back, beyond the parking lot on a strip of grass with a doggy sign. It was clearly the designated dog walking area, although the winter had stripped the grass of life and droppings.
Phin and Tommy were standing between two trees, shovels in hand. Several chickens were pecking at the ground around a cat lazing in the sun.
Tommy saw him first, lifting a hand in greeting. “We’re working on a garden,” he answered Gabriel’s unasked question, excitement in his eyes.
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Tommy said, practically vibrating in excitement. “Ground is finally thawing a little. We still have those seeds we found a few months ago, and I think tomatoes should be easy enough to grow.”
Phin didn’t say anything, but he was watching Tommy out of the corner of his eye, his lips quirked fondly.