Darkest Day (StrikeForce #3)

by Colleen Vanderlinden

  “Jo, they’re near Outer Drive and Mack,” David said over my comm.

  “Thank you.”

  I flew fast. The last time I’d flown that quickly had been the day I’d gone to Mama’s work after Death had poisoned her. I had the same sick feeling in my stomach now.

  “Daystar. Render’s there. We have a team on the way. Do not engage until we’re in place.” Portia said.

  I flew faster. I saw the mini jet below, parked on a residential street lined with brick colonials, and I landed fast, hard. Ryan was on the ground, shooting at Render, who couldn’t seem to move because Ryan kept hitting him with blasts from the stun gun.

  Despite the fact that Ryan’s uniform was soaked in blood.

  “Motherfucker,” I roared, sending a hard blast of power out at Render, just as he took another hit from Ryan’s gun. He fell back and tried to get up and I hit him again. I’ve heard people say the phrase “I just saw red” before to talk about intense rage, but I’d never actually experienced it, until this moment. I blasted him with my power again. And again. And again. He lunged at me, frantically trying to move his hands in that weird gesture he did when he was about to slice someone open. I leapt at him and grabbed his arm. And I twisted.

  I heard bone snap beneath my fingers, and he screamed. He tried to run, his arm dangling helplessly at his side, and I sent another blast of power at him and he still kept trying to run. I stalked over to him, picked him up, and hurled him into the side of a parked truck. He flew into it with a crunching sound.

  I grabbed the front of his shirt and punched him in the face.

  Again.

  Again.

  He stopped moving.

  “Jolene!’ Jenson shouted, and then I felt a hand on my arm. “Jolene. Stop. Stop. You got him, babe. You got him,” she said quietly.

  Portia was there then, standing over Render, placing a collar over his neck. I spun to look for Ryan.

  “Where?”

  “Portia moved him to the hospital wing while you were dealing with Render.”

  I threw the villain an angry glare. He was still.

  “Did I kill him?” I asked Portia.

  “He’s still alive. Barely.”

  “If Caine’s not okay, he’s gonna wish I had,” I said. Jenson tried talking to me, but I leapt up into the air and raced toward Command. Once I got there, I stormed to the hospital wing. I could see where Dr. Ali and here team were working on Ryan in one of the rooms off to the right, and I stepped in.

  “You can’t be here,” Dr. Ali said.

  “Just do your job, doc,” I said. “I’m not leaving.”

  “This is not okay—“

  “Last time he was in here, someone took a vial of his blood to give to a madman. I’m. Not. Leaving. Now get to work.”

  She turned back to Ryan and went back to work. “Just stay over there. And don’t freak out on us. It’s going to be stressful enough without that.”

  I didn’t answer. I stood, arms crossed, and watched. I tried not to feel sick. He was sliced across his stomach, and then again from his sternum down to his navel. The armor seemed to have blunted some of the impact of Render’s powers, but he’d done a good amount of damage nonetheless.

  “Rupture to internal organs, including stomach, large intestine. Additional wound to the pancreas,” Dr. Ali said. After that, I didn’t understand much that was said. All I could do was watch as Dr. Ali and her team worked alongside several machines that seemed to add membranes and other materials to Ryan’s body.

  I tore my eyes away from the glimpses I kept getting of his gaping wounds to the monitors near his head. His heart beat was slow, and I tried not to freak out over that. Another machine was breathing for him, and a transfusion of blood dripped into his veins from a bag nearby. I averted my gaze, staring at the monitor again.

  I lost track of time, staring at that monitor. I couldn’t look at his body. And looking at his face hurt too much. His pallor was too similar to how Mama had looked— no. I wasn’t going to think about that.

  What felt like an eternity later, Dr. Ali spoke in a more normal tone. “Stitching him closed now,” Dr. Ali muttered in my general direction. “He’ll be fine.”

  “Thank you,” I said, feeling like I could finally breathe.

  “You know, I didn’t give anybody’s blood to anybody. He had people come into do that,” she said angrily.

  “I’m actually relieved to hear that. But you know as well as I do that none of us are sure who to trust anymore.” She didn't answer. “Thank you for saving his life,” I added.

  She turned to me and took her gloves off. “Of course. And I guess you’re still not leaving.”

  I shook my head.

  “Okay. Daystar is allowed into his recovery room. Leave her be,” Dr. Ali said. She met my eyes, then patted my shoulder lightly and walked out while her team finished up working on Ryan. They got him settled in a small recovery room, a nurse checked all of his monitors, and someone pulled in a chair for me to sit on. It was an ugly old recliner.

  “This is from one of the regular rooms. You know. The ones that we usually allow visitors in,” the nurse said, giving me a wink.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “He’s going to be out for a good amount of time. Usually about six hours, maybe longer before it wears off. Are you staying the whole time?”

  I nodded. There wasn’t even a question.

  She nodded, then turned and left. A few minutes later, she came back with a stack of magazines and paperback novels, as well as a bottle of water and a granola bar. “Because you’re going to be bored and please also eat because I don’t want you passing out on me,” she said.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m Sarah. Press the button by the door if you need me. I’ll be back to check on him again in a bit.”

  I nodded, and she left. I pushed the recliner closer to the bed, where I could see him better.

  I sat with Ryan, listening to his monitors beeping. I hated seeing him this way, pale, tubes coming out of him in too many places. The sight of him, uniform soaked in blood, laying on the ground and shooting at Render, not giving up, flashed through my mind.

  “You’re just as stubborn as I am,” I murmured to him. “No wonder you make me crazy.”

  I forced myself to drink the water and eat the granola bar. I still had my comm in my ear and I pressed it once, to get Jenson.

  “Jenson,” I said.

  “Hey! How’s he doing? Dr. Ali said he was out of surgery,” she said.

  “He is. He’s in recovery now. She says he’ll be fine.” My throat tightened, and I cleared my throat to try to get it back to normal.

  “She also says you’re staying there.”

  “Until he’s up. Yeah.”

  “Okay. We shuffled your patrol schedule for the next few days. Don’t worry about it. Okay?”

  “Thanks.”

  “How are you holding up?” she asked softly, a bit of a curious note in her voice.

  “I’m fine. I almost wasn’t,” I said.

  “Yeah. Um. His partner’s in the waiting room there. She’s pretty shaken up.”

  I pushed my first thought away, that if I had been there, this never would have happened. “Someone should tell her to leave. He’s fine.”

  She took a breath. “I got the impression that she maybe wants to talk to you,” Jenson said.

  “I’m not in the mood for this shit right now,” I said.

  “She’s blaming herself.”

  “She couldn’t do anything against fucking Render. And Caine wouldn’t have let her. He was laying there shooting while he was bleeding out,” I said. Now that the fear was mostly passed, all I could think about was that moment, the fierce look in his eyes as he pulled the trigger over and over again.

  Stubborn man.

  “I think she needs to hear that.”

  “I’m not a counselor, Jenson,” I muttered.

  She didn’t answer. “Okay. Fine,” I said.
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  “Okay. Call if you need anything. Or if you just want to talk while you wait.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  I stood up, glancing down at Ryan for a second. I patted his shoulder gently, then I stepped out of the small room and into the waiting room beyond. Lindsey sat on one of the chairs in the corner, arms wrapped around herself. She was pale, and her eyes were red. I walked over to her and sat down, glad that I could still see Ryan’s recovery room from this spot.

  “Hey. He’s okay,” I said.

  She nodded. “I’m so glad. He saved my life. And…” she started sobbing, and I patted her leg. “I totally froze, Daystar. Just froze. It was like I forgot that I even had powers, let alone how to use them. Render came at us and I just stood there!” I could hear the anger in her voice, the guilt. “Caine got a shot off, then he and Render kind of threw a few punches, and Caine told me to run and to call for backup. And the next second…” she shook her head, tears flowing from her eyes. “He was down. I froze.”

  I bit the inside of my lip. I didn’t blame Lindsey. But I also knew that I’d never be okay with him patrolling with anyone else again.

  “You’re new at this. And fighting Render so soon into your career is like baptism by fire. So you froze. Now you know that you need to do better next time. Right?”

  She was still crying.

  “Right?” I pressed. “Because I don’t blame you for this. There is no way I would have handled this type of thing well my first week out. But now you see how serious this shit is. You have to be better. Not for him, but for you. Learn from this.”

  “I was sure you’d want to kill me,” she said, pulling a tissue out of the box on the table next to her. “I know neither one of you wanted to switch partners And you’re both so protective of one another,” she shook her head. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d been out there with him.”

  Damn right, I thought, but I had enough tact not to say it.

  “Well. We don’t know that. You did what mattered. You got backup there. You moved quickly enough to save him. Nobody blames you. The only one that needs to be blamed is Render, and he’s going to get his.”

  She nodded, sniffling a bit.

  “I should have been more focused, though. I can be better.”

  I nodded. “Then be better. Go get some rest, okay?”

  She nodded and stood up. I watched her walk out of the waiting room, then shook my head and went back into Ryan’s room and took my place in the recliner. “She’s got it bad for you,” I muttered.

  Not as bad as I do, though, I thought to myself, a thought that came out of nowhere, and I immediately shoved it far, far away.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I passed the next few hours thumbing through magazines, then I picked up one of the paperbacks Sarah had left for me. It was a historical romance I recognized, because Mama had had a copy as well. She’d loved historicals, and it was one of the things that had rubbed off on me. I started reading it and realized I’d read this one before and loved it. So I read, noting the nurses that came in regularly to check on Ryan, the constant beep of his monitors, the sky darkening, then getting progressively lighter outside his window.

  I sat, my legs thrown over the arm of the recliner as I read. Sarah brought me a cup of bitter black coffee, and I drank some and then tossed it in the small bathroom in his room. He’d hate the smell of it, I thought with a smile.

  I settled myself back in the chair and kept reading as the sun rose, bright morning light slanting across the clean white floor of his room.

  “You’ve been here a long time,” he said in a quiet, hoarse voice. I jumped up and went to the side of his bed.

  “Yeah. How’d you know that?” I asked, trying not to start crying in relief like an idiot.

  “Whole room smells like you. Not a bad way to wake up,” he answered.

  “I’ll call the nurse,” I said. He was obviously still out of it.

  “Not yet. I’m fine.”

  He opened his hand, the one nearest to me, which was beside him on the bed, and I slid my hand into his, twining our fingers together. “How do you feel?” I asked. His eyes were still closed.

  “Like a motherfucker cut me in half,” he said, and I let out a weak laugh. He opened his eyes then and looked at me. “You got him. I saw that much before I passed out.”

  “Well. You were shooting the hell out of him when I got there. I just finished him off.”

  “He still alive?”

  “Yeah. He’s lucky you came through it okay,” I said, not even caring about the crazy growl I heard in my own voice.

  He squeezed my hand. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “What was?”

  “You landing like a badass, full of rage and kicking the shit out of him,“ he said. “I told myself in that moment that if I made it through, I’d tell you—“

  “You’re up!” Dr. Ali said, and I had to restrain the urge to smack her. I moved out of the way, reluctantly releasing Ryan’s hand as she checked him over, looking at his wounds, taking his vitals.

  “He’s okay, right?” I asked after a few minutes.

  “He’s fine. We have to watch for infection the next couple of days, but you’re strong and healthy and so far I’m really happy with your progress,” she said to Ryan.

  “So how long am I stuck here?” he asked, and she shook her head.

  “You’ll be here in the recovery wing for a few days. At least three more, but we’re playing that by ear. And then after that, you’ve got at least two months before you can be out doing your usual stuff.”

  “Can’t be out that long,” he argued.

  “Yes you can,” Dr. Ali and I both said.

  “If you try doing your old activities now, you’ll split something and then you’ll be back in here. We had to repair your stomach, intestines, a bit of your kidney, your pancreas, not to mention your flesh itself. There won’t be any ass kicking for a while. Understand?” Dr. Ali asked.

  Ryan answered “yes, doc,” even though he didn’t look happy about it.

  “You’ll also have to make do with a liquid diet for a few days, until we’re more sure about your stomach function.”

  Ryan nodded.

  Dr. Ali turned to look at me. “This one stood and oversaw all seven hours of your surgery, and has barely left your side while you were out. It almost came to blows when I tried to tell her she couldn’t be in the operating room.”

  Ryan’s gaze slid to me. “She’s stubborn,” he said with a small smile.

  “Look who’s talking.”

  “Makes us hard to kill,” he said.

  “Good.”

  Dr. Ali smiled. “All right then. We’ll be around to check on you again in a while. You do need to rest,” she said, giving me a pointed look. “It will help your recovery.”

  “I’ll make sure he rests,” I told her, and she rolled her eyes, patted Ryan’s shoulder, and left. He called a thank you to her as she walked out.

  “I should tell Portia that you’re up,” I said. “And your partner.”

  “You’re my partner,” he said drowsily. I watched his face as he fell back asleep. Once he was snoring quietly, I stepped out into the hall and contacted Jenson over the comm, updating her about Ryan’s condition. And I asked her to tell Lindsey.

  “You should get some sleep, Jo,” Jenson said. I looked back into Ryan’s room.

  “I might nap here in the chair or something. I’m not sure I want to leave yet.”

  “He’s fine,” she reminded me.

  “I know.”

  “And, you know. Super scent. It’s been almost two days since you’ve changed or anything,” she said tactfully.

  “Oh. Right,” I said, blushing a little.

  “If you want, I’ll come and sit with him,” she said.

  “Okay. When you have a chance.”

  A while later, Jenson showed up. Ryan was still asleep, and she settled into the recliner and told
me to go. I went back up to my suite and quickly showered and brushed my teeth. I dried my hair and pulled on a pair of jeans and a black top. I forced myself to eat a banana, then headed back to the hospital wing. When I got back to Ryan’s room, he was awake and he and Jenson were talking. I stepped into the room, and his gaze found mine almost immediately.

  “Did you eat?” he asked.

  “A little. I’m not hungry.”

  “You’re tired, Jolene,” he said.

  I tilted my head. “Are you trying to hint that you want me to leave?” I said with a small smile.

  “No. I want you here if you want to be. But you gotta take care of yourself.”

  “Tell you what. You start looking less pale and more like yourself, and I’ll maybe get my appetite back. Okay?”

  Jenson sat in her chair, looking between the two of us with a small smile on her face.

  “Jenson just told me she had to stop you from killing Render,” he said, a glint of something in his eyes.

  “Jenson has a big goddamn mouth,” I said, and she laughed.

  “He’s in bad shape. Still hasn’t regained consciousness,” she said, a worried expression crossing her face, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had come. “I think I’ll head out. I have a shift in an hour.” She patted Ryan’s arm, then gave me a quick hug and a sly wink that made me blush for some stupid reason, and then she left.

  “Have they been back in to check on you?” I asked as I walked over to the bed.

  “Yeah. And I had vegetable broth. It tasted like shit.”

  I laughed. “This is going to be hell for you. Hospital food.”

  “Ugh.”

  “One more reason to focus on resting up so you’ll recover faster. Real food snob food again.”

  “And coffee,” he said.

  “No needles stuck in you,” I said. I hated the IV, the catheter tube snaking from beneath his blankets. They made him look sick.

  “Training with you again,” he said. “We need to do that more often.”

  “Especially now that we don’t get to patrol together anymore,” I said.

  “You know what else I want to do?” he asked.

  I had a few thoughts. I shoved them away.