Immortally Embraced

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Authors: angie fox
leather armor studded with animal teeth. His mustache was long and curled at the ends, and he wore mounds of colorful beaded jewelry. He looked like he’d been out riding with Genghis Khan.
    “Oghul,” Marc said, his shoulders relaxing even if the rest of him was still stiff as a board. He ran a hand through his hair, as if he needed to arrange … something. He drew an arm around me while staying half a step in front of me. “This is the man who’s going to get us across the divide.”
    I wasn’t so sure about the man part. Marc refused to budge, so I reached around him, holding out a hand. “I’m—”
    “No names,” Oghul said, whipping up an enormous curved sword.
    Marc seized the barbarian’s wrist. “Point it down,” he ordered.
    The Mongolian’s eyes were crazy, wild.
    “Oghul,” Marc said, a clear warning in his tone.
    The brute grunted and lowered his weapon.
    Sure. This was just the guy we wanted to sneak us through an enemy camp.
    Marc must have read my mind. “You don’t want to startle a berserker,” he said low in his throat.
    “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, noticing Marc hadn’t taken his eyes off the wild man since he’d gotten here.
    Oghul shrugged off his pack and began tossing uniform clothes at me. A tan medical officer’s jacket landed at my feet, a pair of pants sailed over my head, and Marc caught both my socks.
    He’d also brought a spare uniform for Marc, which proved the Mongolian was way better at this spy business than I was.
    Marc was dressed in no time. I tried to convince myself I was glad for him.
    What was I saying? I was glad. I drew a shuddering breath. I’d almost gone down on a man who, frankly, I really should be pissed at.
    He’d lied to me and let me think he was dead. He’d broken my heart. That was his fault. If I let him do it again, it would be mine.
    “Are you ready for this?” he asked. I still held the enemy uniform in my arms.
    “Yes.” We’d come this far. There was no backing down now. “I’m just not one for the uniform. That’s all.” I was a doctor, not a soldier and I avoided combat fatigues whenever I could.
    “Stay in front of me,” I told Marc, although it didn’t look like Oghul was paying much attention. He stood at the edge of the rock sniffing the air.
    “Don’t look,” I said as I slipped my shirt off.
    Oghul didn’t seem to have heard, but Marc took me at my word. He stood facing the Great Divide as I lost my scrubs and slipped on the old army tan.
    My throat tightened and I told myself it was just me getting used to the stiff, thick material of the pants and flak jacket. And not that I could be shot for wearing them.
    “All set,” I said. My eyes flickered over Marc, determined to move forward, forget about what we would have been doing if Oghul hadn’t arrived when he did.
    His green eyes blazed against the superheated wasteland behind him. His uniform fit to his wide shoulders and trim hips, and he was barefoot.
    “You still need boots,” I said, as his gaze followed mine to his feet.
    Oghul grunted, shucking off his. He had the widest, hairiest feet I’d ever seen.
    “Thanks, buddy.” Marc patted him on the arm and slid his feet into the boots.
    “Now your friend is going to stand out,” I said, as if the pointy-tooth jacket and wild jewelry weren’t enough. He even had hoops in his ears.
    “He’s fine.” Marc said, tying the laces tight. “Nobody likes to question the berserkers. Besides, it’s obvious he belongs here.”
    Wait. “We don’t have any berserkers in the new army?”
    “No,” Oghul barked.
    The barbarian was going to have to chill out. He was giving me heart palpitations and we hadn’t even gotten off this rock.
    I straightened my old army uniform and faced the burning fires of the enemy line. “Do you really think we have a shot at sneaking through?”
    Oghul snarled at me, showing sharpened yellow teeth.
    “No offense,” I added. The guy needed to stop growling.
    Marc

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