Page 5 of Unholy Gambit: Checkmate in Blood
When the torture was finally over, Aury showered, changed, walked across the parking lot, and rode the elevator to her appointment with Dr. Woods.
“I have a new goal,” she told him the instant she stepped into his office from the lobby, her knee pulsing with a dull, manageable ache.
“Is this a short-term or long-term goal?”
She dropped into the too-comfortable chair. “Remains to be seen. I’m going to learn how to walk in five-inch heels.”
A slow blink. “You might want to start lower and work up.”
“Yes. Agreed. Also, a normal yoga class. Not yet, but maybe by spring.”
“Before the surgery, you were hoping to take the Krav Maga class with Ruby. Is that still a goal?”
“Yes, but I figure that’s farther out than yoga.” She took a breath and jumped into the other short-term goal.Muchshorter term. “I’m working the Haunted Swamp, starting tomorrow night. My costume works even better with a knee brace, so I can make sure I don’t fuck it up since I’ll be walking around on uneven ground for hours and hours, but I’m going to fucking do it.”
“Have you cleared this with your PT team?”
She glared at him, but he merely lifted an eyebrow. “You already know what they’ll say. You’ll have to sit and rest after whatever step count they approve of for uneven ground.”
A nod. He wasn’t wrong. “Ruby says they can pull a chair in, and we can make the tableau work whether I’m standing or sitting.”
“Good. Talk to your therapy team so they can help you do this without setting yourself back.”
They’d talked about this before, but she couldn’t help bringing it up again. “I know why the surgeons all wanted to wait, but it still ticks me off I couldn’t do this years ago.”
He nodded. “It’s fine to be angry at the wait, but doing it anytime before your early twenties would’ve likely meant needing two total replacements.”
Right, and the second is always more of a problem than the first. Waiting was the smart move, but it still rankled. “Mom being involved in research means I have the latest and greatest before it even hit the market, and the extra time waiting for it I know is worth it, but still, it’s irritating I had to wait so long.”
Dr. Woods didn’t interrupt her intensity, just waited a beat to see if she had more to say before he picked up with where they’d left off in the last session. “Your memories matched your mother’s, in the initial police reports.”
She exhaled. “Yeah. But I was five…” she frowned. “Thatiskind of odd, isn’t it? People usually take in the same scene differently, right?”
“You didn’t see them cut her arm?”
She shook her head. “No. Not in my memoriesorthe dream.”
By the time Aury finally left the hospital campus, it was late, and her knee throbbed with a steady pulse of protest.
At home, she grabbed a wrappable ice pack from the freezer and velcroed it on while chatting with her mom. “You know how much I love your béchamel croquettes,” she said. “What can I do to help?”
“I made extra sauce, and we have cauliflower. Let’s do a gratin while we’re at it.”
The two worked comfortably side-by-side, slipping into the easy rhythm of shared kitchens and old routines.
When Aury’s dad came home from work, he checked the bread, pulled it from the oven, kissed Aury on the forehead and his wife on the lips, and opened a bottle of wine.
The family had owned textile factories in France, rugs mostly, but also the thick fabrics for draperies, sofas, and chairs. Dalton, Georgia calls itself the carpet capital of the world, but the tax situation had been better in Tennessee, so her father had opened a new factory in northern Hamilton County. Close enough for easy supply delivery from Dalton. Far enough to save a fortune in business and personal taxes.
Over dinner, they talked about Aury’s therapy, her visit with Ruby, her plans to work the Haunted Swamp, her mother’s upcoming prosthetics foundation fundraiser, and how things were going at the factory. Her mother cleans pots and pans while she cooks, so there wasn’t much to put away after dinner, and then Aury walked back to her place, walking on the ground beside the sidewalk originally put in for her scooter. It was nice to walk on her own two legs in the cool night air.
Chapter 3
Axel obtained permission to nudge the minds of the people assigning roles at the Haunted Swamp. A little gentle persuasion to ensure he’d be placed with his Aurélie.
Upon arrival, he dipped into the minds of the workers and volunteers, piecing together the reason this place existed, a little slice of nature. Protected. The Haunted Swamp was more than a spectacle. It was a major fundraiser.
He lingered near the wolf enclosure, appreciating the small pack. True wolves, not shifters.
