Chapter 26

Orlando sat patiently outside Viggo’s office awaiting his test results. The plush bench 
that served as the “waiting room” was of little comfort. Frankly, Orlando found the 
cheery upholstery unnerving and the color scheme was giving him a feeling akin to 
nausea. 

He’d spent too much time on this bench lately. Next to Mr. Boyd’s predicament, he found 
his own banal and unimpressive. In fact, he was rather annoyed by his bad timing. His 
present sickness did nothing but enhance the fact that Orlando was a born scene-stealer. 
He didn’t want to draw focus from their very dear employer and his life-threatening 
condition, but that sentiment fell on deaf ears. This was not the plan, though it did give 
Orlando every reason – albeit an embarrassing one – to give a call to the hunky Dr. 
Mortensen. 

Viggo had beauty, brains, and a top-notch personality. It was almost too much to ask for 
in a man, let alone a doctor. Though Viggo was mostly human it didn’t detract from his 
all-consuming sexiness. Sure, he couldn’t boast of the power to command the seas or 
walk through walls, (as some of Orlando’s former lovers could) but his power over 
Orlando was just as strong as any of those ostentatious monsters. 

So now the question was how to get Viggo into bed if this disease was something really 
unappetizing? He could charm and flirt his way past most things, but if the next step of 
this lovely little virus was facial swelling, that may prove an obstacle. 

Orlando didn’t usually go after those who lived at Icarus because it could lead to 
uncomfortable situations if they had to work together again, but Viggo had done himself 
in. Orlando couldn’t stop thinking about how he unabashedly embraced him in the 
hallway after he had stormed out of Mr. Boyd’s room, and all the sweet things Viggo had 
said:

Even though we are in a bit of a crisis, it doesn’t mean that we can’t attend to each 
other’s needs. On the contrary, we need to look out for each other more than ever.

Orlando was gently brought out of his musings by a soft, cool hand on his knee. Elijah 
was still here. Calm, caring Elijah had mistaken Orlando’s deep, sexy thoughts about 
Viggo for abject anxiety. He smiled at the poor merman. What a doll.

The thought had crossed his mind once or twice that Elijah could make a good lover, 
though he’d never acted on it. He was too sweet, too wonderful to be some horny 
accident at last year’s holiday party or a lovely mishap suffering the fickle passions of a 
commitment-compromised floozy like Orlando. And a relationship was out of the 
question as well. Fire and water, while great friends side-by-side, when intimate, would 
consume the other. Besides, Elijah was rather obsessed with their late friend Sean, and 
lately that had become more apparent ever before. It seemed his every thought was 
tormented by his love for Sean and the revulsion for what he had done. By the look on 
Elijah’s face, he was thinking about it even now. Poor baby.

Of course it was no question that Sean was deeply in love with Elijah. The clues were 
never hard to find, especially not for one as perceptive in the matters of love as Orlando. 
Besides the obvious occurrences of Sean’s discussion with Elijah in Mr. Boyd’s sickroom 
and Sean’s mad dash through the second story window that ended in tears, there had been 
an attraction between the two since Orlando could remember. Before Elijah had arrived 
on their doorstep, a wretched creature with no where to go, Sean had never really 
troubled himself for anyone. As soon as the merman had set foot in the door Sean did 
everything conceivable to make him feel at home. No task was too large or little. It was 
when Sean began to neglect his duties that Mr. Boyd had put his foot down, Sean 
unnecessarily backed off his advances on Elijah, and they had remained in relationship 
limbo ever since. 

Orlando realized he had been palming his belly bump unconsciously. We’ll take care of 
you very soon, my annoying little friend.

“Orlando?” Viggo’s deep voice called from the door to his office. Orlando and Elijah 
rose and entered. Viggo gestured to the examining table and Orlando sat down 
obediently.

“So, what’s the deal, doc?” Orlando meant to sound casual, but his voice came out 
nervous and uneven.

“Well Orlando, I have to say I’m a little perplexed by your condition.”

Orlando cut him off, “You don’t know what it is?”

“It’s not that,” Viggo hastily interjected, “I’ve found out the cause of your symptoms, 
definitely and I’m pretty sure of a way to cure you, if not a few ways.”

Orlando scrutinized the sweet Doctor Mortensen. He was acting very peculiar. Usually 
the definition of the perfect physician, he was distracted, jumpy, even disturbed right 
now. It was wholly unnerving for Orlando.

“There’s just one more test I would like to run to confirm my diagnosis.” Viggo slipped 
on a pair of disposable gloves, “Would you please lie down, Orlando, and lift up your 
shirt.”

Orlando’s stomach flip-flopped a little. If Elijah wasn’t here he probably would have 
made some flirty comment about playing doctor with Viggo in a much dirtier sense, but 
he just pushed past the feeling and did as he was told.

Viggo rolled over a machine that looked like a TV monitor with more bells and whistles. 
Viggo held a sort of wand in his hand with a rounded tip. Some nasty smelling jelly was 
applied to the wand and Viggo smeared the stuff over Orlando’s belly bump. 

“Could you please slide your pants down just a little?” Viggo avoided eye contact. 
Orlando tried to avoid getting a hard-on. This really wasn’t fair, and he knew he was 
blushing. More of the cold, smelly jelly was applied to his bump, and thankfully Viggo’s 
titillating fingers were replaced with the rounded wand.

The monitor hummed as the picture flickered to life, illuminating the good doctor’s face. 
Strange little warbles came from the machine as Viggo slid the wand over his belly in a 
sea of lubricant. Orlando could tell by the look on Viggo’s face that this was not a 
welcome diagnosis; after several moments he began to panic.

“What? What is it?! A tumor?! A cyst?! A giant cockroach?! What the FUCK is it?!” 
Orlando grabbed for the monitor and swung it towards Elijah and himself before Viggo 
could stop him. 

It was then that he saw the thing that had been tormenting his body for the past three 
months: The tiny curled legs, the soft profile, the tiny string of pearls making up its spine.

Orlando was stunned beyond words for several seconds before saying, “What the hell is 
that?”

Viggo smiled just a little at him, “That’s your baby, Orli. You’re pregnant.”

~

Dominic impatiently ran his hands over the leather steering wheel of the rental car as he 
drove closer to Icarus Manor. He mulled over the last hour he had spent with his family. 

His farewell had been sweeter than he had expected. The entire rebellion turned out to see 
him off. Mrs. Avery had been especially nice. She gave him the biggest hug she could 
muster with her injuries still apparent. His old crew managed to mumble their way 
through goodbyes and hand-shakes. Jackson gave him the usual bone-crushing hug being 
the big softie that he was. It was the things that they didn’t say which were the most 
touching. Understandably, Astrid’s goodbye was the hardest.

“We spent so much time plotting that we never had much fun, did we?” She looked 
regrettably at the ground. “I hope next time you come see us we have a much nicer time.” 
She pulled him into her arms, squeezing him as if he was going to fall apart if she didn’t. 
“Don’t wait for long, will you? I feel as if you just got here, and now I’ve got to let you 
go.”

“You know where I am now. Write me, won’t you?” He smiled as best as he could for 
her then he left.

Dominic checked the mileage on the odometer. Not much longer now. He couldn’t wait 
to see them all again: Elijah and Orlando and Dr. Viggo, but mostly William. He wanted 
the most to see William. He’d come back just like he’d promised. Hopefully William 
would understand. It had been so hard without him. The idea that William wouldn’t want 
to see him was unimaginable. His mind wandered to those green eyes that trapped his 
soul up in his throat; those perfectly shaped cupid-bow lips. They had only begun to love 
each other, and now they could have everything they wanted. Nothing stood in their way 
as far as Dominic was concerned. 

Sean stirred in the backseat. It was nothing much, just a slight variation on his breathing, 
but a change nonetheless. Dominic glanced at his sleeping friend. Sean had saved his life 
yesterday. He had performed miracles that no normal werewolf could. It was safe to say 
by the stories that his sister told him that Sean had changed. He did smell odd; other than 
pine needles, roots and dirt, there was now an added scent. It was difficult to describe. It 
was almost airy, like how the spring smelled when things were waking up. Yes, he 
smelled of awakening. 

Dominic had never had a chance to thank Sean for last night since the wolf had fallen 
asleep almost immediately after. He hadn’t woken since. In fact, they had to lie him down 
in the rental car when it showed up. Dominic didn’t mind the drive alone, and he didn’t 
blame Sean for being exhausted. Flying close to thirty people through the air at 
impossible speeds for nearly half an hour and then bringing the dead back to life 
definitely qualified as a full night. Dominic wouldn’t be surprised if Sean didn’t wake up 
for days, but when he did Dominic was going to make sure he was thanked thoroughly. 	

Dominic had thought about it carefully on the long drive, and he had decided to get Sean 
his original job back. It was only right since Dominic was the reason he’d lost his job to 
begin with that he should be the one to advocate for his reinstatement. Sean had proven 
not only that he was a changed man, but that he was one worthy of absolute trust. Strange 
as it may be, Dominic was ready to welcome Sean into his life as a friend; the past 
forgiven and forgotten.

Dominic let the feeling of forgiveness and an overall joy to flow through him. He had 
been feeling rather uplifted since his near-death. He had barely slept last night. The 
energy of the pack still running through him, he let the inexplicable joy of living rip 
through him again. It was nearly as intense as an orgasm. Dominic desired nothing more 
than to open his mouth and howl, and if it were not for his sleeping savior, he would 
have. What a feeling! It was nothing like he had ever experienced. It could only be 
described as enthusiasm for life. It was lovely, but Dominic could tell it was fading 
quickly. His vacation into the land of the dead had been brief and he could feel the world 
reattaching itself to him, weighing him down. But something deep inside him said that 
the joy was always present, and should he want to bring it back at any time, it would be 
available to him. 

Besides this sense of joy, there was something else that he had brought with him from the 
other side. The vision had been clear. As he had risen from his body and traveled at 
impossible speeds towards a blinding, warm light, he had seen his father as well as he 
could have ever remembered him. His father smiled warmly, as only one can smile 
without a body, and told him that he loved him and the rest of the family very much. 
Then an explosion of energy sent him hurtling back down into his body where he had 
awoken. Astrid said that he had spoken, but Dominic could not remember doing so. It 
was amazing nonetheless. Smiling to no one but himself, he focused again on the road. 

~

“I’m motherfucking WHAT?!” Orlando sent objects from a nearby table hurtling through 
the air at sizzling speeds. Everything he touched burst into flames before zipping 
dangerously close to Viggo’s head. Elijah ducked behind the examination table for his 
own safety.

“I’M MOTHERFUCKING WHAT?!” Orlando grabbed a handful of tongue-depressors 
and chucked them across the room where they shattered flaming splinters against the 
stone wall. 

That was gorgeous. Orlando thought. Several glass containers joined them shortly. A 
cylinder full of alcohol exploded when it hit the already burning floor. Out of the corner 
of his eye, Orlando saw Elijah dash out of the door into the hallway.

“Orlando, please. You’ll burn the manor down.” Viggo gently tried to interrupt the fire-
sprite’s furious rein of flame. 

Orlando barely heard the doctor as he swept a dresser clear of all contents and put his 
burning hands down on the top, giving life to more magnificent flames. He was 
intoxicated. The heat and smell of the fire kindled a desire in him so strong that he could 
not resist. 

The house has to burn. It will be beautiful. 

Orlando screeched with glee at the idea. He fumed with hate for everything not currently 
burning.

“We can take care of you.”

Orlando overturned a large bookshelf, the crash nearly covering Viggo’s pleas.

Take care of me? Why? Do I need their help? Am I a child? 

None of them knew. None of them could understand. He was violated. He was 
abandoned. He was damaged. It was impossible! He never tried to prevent such things 
because they were impossible! He wasn’t stupid. He didn’t need anything from anyone. 
He never had.

“I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!” Orlando whirled on Viggo hiding behind his 
examination table. 

Yes. He will like the fire. It will love his clothes, his flesh. 

Orlando was maddened by the flames. He wanted them everywhere. Viggo stared at him 
in terror and the power flooded through him. Orlando looked at his hands. They were 
encircled in blazing orbs licking up his arms to burn his clothes. It was so pretty he could 
have cried. But he was in a rage with this man who thought he knew everything.

“I SUPPOSE YOU THINK YOU CAN FIX THIS FOR ME?!” Orlando’s left hand rose 
malevolently, and Viggo dove for the other side of the room just in time to miss a 
writhing, twisting ball of flames that came down on the table. It was amazingly 
satisfying. But he had missed his target. He turned to see Viggo patting out the fire 
quickly catching hold to his pant leg. Arrogant, self-righteous bastard.

“YOU THINK I DESERVE IT!” 

Viggo concentrated on Orlando, bravely holding eye-contact. Something deep inside him 
from what seemed like another life told him not to flame this man, at least, not yet. 

“Orlando, you are upset. That’s okay. But you have friends – family – who will do 
anything for you. We support you no matter what you do. Let’s take this one step at a 
time.”

Orlando’s eyes softened. They cared for him. Maybe he wasn’t as alone as he felt. Viggo 
didn’t break eye contact, but reached his hand out to quench the flames on examination 
table two. It was too soon. Orlando flared up again, all reason gone. 

“Don’t you dare! Those are MINE!” Orlando slapped a burning hand so hard across the 
doctor’s face that he fell to the floor. This was it. Now he could turn him into a 
screaming, stunning display of fiery bliss. 

Orlando screamed in shock as a powerful whooshing sound poured a suffocating 
substance all over him, quenching his beloved flames. Carbon dioxide gas flooded the 
room as Elijah worked the extinguisher over the many burning surfaces of the room. 
Orlando was not done yet, though. Oh no. The flames of his hair and eyebrows quickly 
sprung back to life. Viggo had scurried behind his desk, rummaging for something. 
Orlando rose up again, nearly rekindled and staring down furiously at Viggo. Before 
Orlando could light him up, though, Viggo turned on him spraying him with something 
jarringly painful. Violent ice filled his eyes and screaming mouth. His hands were 
extinguished as they went to his face. 

Crumbling on the floor in a heap they continued to stand over him, drenching him in 
liquid nitrogen. His friends doused the dancing flames that gave him such pleasure. They 
soaked him as his rapidly cooling body melted the nitrogen frost. It was over. He had 
nothing now. No heat. No fire. He was alone with the friends he had tried to murder.  He 
wept on the floor made of frigid stones.  It was so cold, and his frozen tears wouldn’t run.