by KH LeMoyne
Hands fisted on the steering wheel, he ran through past scenarios. He’d done this before. Granted, it was accidental. But the shift in space had happened several times, so there was a repeatable pattern. Leaning his head back, he took a deep breath and loosened his grip on the wheel.
The first time? The day the police had spoken with him. After they’d left, he’d been staring out the lobby window, thinking about her. Right. He’d been thinking of her face, her brown eyes, all the disarray of her blond layers. He could almost smell the sweet, light scent of her.
Think. Think.
The next time was at the lighthouse. Her scent had been stronger then because he’d known her kiss, the taste of her.
Nothing happened. Jason blinked.
Not enough. What was he missing?
He closed his eyes, remembering. The sun beat warm on his face, the breeze blowing. He had been thinking about the softness of her lips, the smoothness of her skin. How delicate the jump of her pulse would feel as his lips skimmed along the sensitive skin of her neck. Her pulse had been strong and rapid when he’d made love to her, her heartbeat quick against his chest.
Disorientation sucked at his gut but he kept the images in his mind. The sensations in his hands of stroking the warm, soft skin of her stomach, the curves of her breast and the feel of her heartbeat beneath his lips. The steady rise and fall of her breasts. The fluid rhythm of her heart, strong and passionate. Their damp flesh melded after he’d made love to her.
He could feel her. He could hear her rhythm.
Even as his insides churned and twisted, he kept his eyes closed and held on to the images with singular determination. His body felt light, suspended in space, without grounding, but he held to the rhythm of her. The essence of his Briet.
CHAPTER 22
The sudden release left him dizzy. Jason grabbed with his hand before his eyes opened to focus. Soft blanket met his palm and soft light greeted his eyes. He clutched at the leg under the softness and followed the outline of a solid form to the head of the bed.
Briet’s face was pale, marbled with a webbing of fine black lines.
Thank you, God.
He leaned to cup her cheek with his palm. A quick glance around confirmed the room empty. However, the doorway to the next room stood ajar and he could hear voices. Ansgar’s the loudest, the angriest.
He glanced back. Briet was ensconced in covers in the large bed, a thin metal strip wound above the camisole segmenting her breasts, armpit to armpit, from her neck and shoulders. He ran his fingers along her body and detected another metal strip below her ribs.
Vibration thrummed between the two, perhaps restricting the black veins from proceeding to her heart. He brushed back the covers exposing her hips and legs, bare and streaked in black. Her arms were lax at her side, her breathing shallow as he rested his entire palm against her cheek. How long could she last like this?
“Baby, I’m here,” he whispered, his thumb stroking her face. How to proceed? Was it the touch itself or his skin?
He pulled his hand away from her face. The blackness that had receded advanced again with his hand’s retreat.
Jeez, he had only so much hand.
He shoved back his sleeve and rested his whole arm against her neck and chest. Seconds later, the response was the same as with his hand. More skin. She needed more skin and more time. He tore off his sweatshirt.
“Fight, Briet. Please don’t give up.”
Jason pushed off all the sheets. She was dressed in only a camisole and panties. They’d been quick to get her prepped and settled. To be honest he wouldn’t care if they’d stripped her naked if it would stop the black ink’s progression.
He lifted her into his arms and bent his head to brush her face. The sight of her skin captured by the blackness, a dark evil trying to steal her from him stirred the rage inside him.
Useless. All his damn emotions were useless. He backed to a stuffed chair in the corner and curled her against him. Positioning her hands on his chest, he tucked her legs so her knees were cradled there, too. Her side snuggled over his stomach, he wrapped his arms beneath the camisole, spreading his hands to cover as much of her as possible. Finally, he pressed his face to her forehead.
He sat there, huddled over her like a huge praying mantis. Ironic, since praying wasn’t something he did well or often. He made up the deficit of years in a few short minutes. Deal after deal, he offered. Muttering promises into her hair, he prepared to sell his soul for anything to save her. The little whispers floated free of his lips, stirring the tendrils of hair beside her ear. “I’m here. Stay with me. I know you won’t give up. You’re too damn stubborn, baby.” If he could have one more chance, they would make it right. If she lived, he would do anything.
A sound vibrated in her throat but nothing escaped her lips. His cheek rubbed against hers when he felt a presence and lifted his head to see a man standing on the other side of Briet’s bed, just inside the doorway, staring at him.
However long the guy had been there, he stood completely still, arms crossed in a relaxed pose over his chest, watching them both. Tall, with brilliant green eyes, his figure was deceptively lanky. Jason had had a teammate built like that. He could knock you on your ass in seconds flat and you only saw stars afterward.
“Don’t even think about taking her from me,” Jason managed to get the words out though his mouth felt stuck and dry.
The man’s eyebrows started to rise when the door flung open wider behind him.
“How the hell did you—” Ansgar tried to push his way past. The man spun and planted both hands on Ansgar’s chest to restrain him.
“Turen. Kamau.”
The dark haired man from the parking garage grabbed Ansgar’s upper arm, as did a well-muscled, black man. Neither was quite Ansgar’s height, but the black guy had to be at least two hundred and eighty pounds of pure muscle. The other man was leaner, but no less powerful, if the size of his forearms and shoulders were any indication.
The man at the bed turned back to Jason. His arm remained out to block Ansgar's progress.
Tugging his arms, Ansgar snarled in Jason’s direction, but the men held firm to his arms and shoulders, keeping him from advancing into the room. “If anything happens to her—”
Jason kept his gaze fixed on Ansgar. He had already determined there wasn’t an alternative exit to the room. Briet’s fold technique worked to reach her but he had no way to get them home.
It was him against these three formidable guys. Three, because the only option he had was to talk the others out of forcibly extracting him and Ansgar wasn’t in a reasonable frame of mind so he didn’t count. Unfortunately, the odds seemed significantly less-than-even, and not in his favor, with the two holding Ansgar back.
Jason assessed the man by the bed, another of Briet’s tribe. Ansgar’s inability to interact rationally didn’t discount a fresh option with one of the others. The man’s gaze had been roving over Briet’s body, though with a measure of clinical detachment Jason found almost tolerable.
“I need more time,” Jason choked out. He tried for confidence but his words came out sounding desperate.
“She has a mate, Turen.” The man sought confirmation from Ansgar’s accomplice from the garage.
“Looks that way. Ansgar?” The question came as a command, as if from someone in charge, someone who expected an answer. A calm, rational delivery of a question and Turen seemed prepared to wait for a reply.
Calm or not, he didn’t let go of Ansgar’s shoulders.
“It doesn’t matter,” Ansgar snapped, but his rebuttal didn’t hold sufficient weight for either of his comrades to release him.
Jason wasn’t sure where this was going, but he pulled Briet closer, eliciting another growl from the brother. Great. Now he was manhandling her in front of her family. He forced his hands to relax their grip. She made another sound, nuzzled closer and unclenched her fist against his chest. Covering her hand with his, he rubbed his cheek agai
nst her hair, not breaking eye contact with the men.
“I would like to get you a blanket, so neither of you get cold.” The green-eyed man waited for a response.
Jason knew he couldn’t sit here holding her in her underwear all night. Yet he didn’t want them to have the chance to get close enough to overpower him and take her. His hesitancy must have read like an open book.
“I give you my word. I will not take her from you.”
Ansgar yanked at the hands holding him. “I promise no such thing, Grimm.”
Grimm turned back to Ansgar. “Have you bothered to look at your sister? Take a good look. Your overprotectiveness could cut her off from the only person who can save her.”
Ansgar's gaze flickered over his sister’s body, making Jason so uncomfortable he moved his hands to shield Briet’s bareness from everyone’s gaze. The anger ebbed from Ansgar’s face and his muscles relaxed, the frown between his brows evened out, leaving behind only fear in his eyes. He let out a breath and settled back, no longer poised on the balls of his feet or in a tug of war with his friends.
Jason knew the black lines on Briet’s skin were receding. Whole sections of her face were clear, resisting the toxin’s encroachment. The parts of her legs and back he could reach were also returning to the sweet pale cream he knew so well. It wasn’t enough. The toxin hadn’t abated and she was still unconscious.
Grimm turned back to Jason. “Do you feel all right?”
“Fine. As long as she stays right here, I’m fine.”
He nodded. “I still think a blanket would be a good idea.”
“All right.”
The man took a blanket from a stack on a side table, shaking it out as he approached. “Lean forward and I can wrap you both. Your body heat will keep her stable better than the blanket alone.”
Jason shifted and Briet let out another murmur, her hand clenching tighter again. She seemed disturbed, but the response was louder and more vigorous, easing the tight knot in his chest. Any response was better than her lying like death in his arms.
The blanket dropped over his shoulders and Grimm squatted to tuck it around Briet. Jason leaned back and she shifted against him with an audible sigh.
“I know you heard my name is Grimm. I am a healer for our people.” He remained in his position and looked up at Jason. “I’d like to check her vitals. Just a touch?”
Jason nodded and moved his face away from Briet’s to allow the man access to the pulse at her neck. He kept his gaze locked on the man’s face in case he shifted suddenly. True to his word, Grimm only pressed his fingers to Briet’s pulse and closed his eyes for several seconds. With a deep release of breath, he opened his eyes, withdrew his hand, and stood back.
“Her respiration is improved. Heart function is stronger. The virus strain is still in her system but her body is resisting.”
“I thought she couldn’t catch viruses?” At least he thought he remembered some such discussion. He’d discounted her comment as doctor’s assurance that they were indestructible.
“Human viruses would have no effect on her. This is specific, an engineered poison.” His expression clouded with distress and then he let out a frustrated sound. “There was little I could do. It moved too fast for me to get in front of the progression, much less understand how the toxin worked.”
“How is it that I can do this?”
Grimm gave him a thoughtful look. “Our mates provide a buffer for wounds and illness. You appear to have no reaction to the poison. I would equate the response to a sponge or a siphon, draining off the toxin, in a manner of speaking. I’m not quite sure how the physiological function of the mate connection works with you—though it is working.”
Jason nodded. He didn’t understand the details. Frankly, he’d had no time to absorb everything thrown at him. The exact why didn’t matter as long as she recovered. “How long do you expect it will take to rid the toxin from her body?”
“I can’t say. When she is more stable, we can move you both back to the bed. Your connection will produce the desired effect, for now. I’ll get you some fluids and food. You need to keep up your strength—the drain may hit you unexpectedly. She will need fluids when she can take them.”
“Thank you.”
Grimm turned away, walked past Ansgar, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You should take first watch with them. Make sure Briet’s mate has no problems. Her life depends on him.”
The two men, Turen and Kamau, gave Grimm a look, seeming to question the wisdom to release Ansgar. They reluctantly removed their hands from their compatriot.
Jason questioned the wisdom too, but Ansgar looked sucker punched and confused. He watched his sister like someone who’d missed the last lifeboat.
He understood how the man felt. It didn’t stop his hands from tensing on Briet’s body when her brother came forward, only to sit on the bed. One leg braced Ansgar’s body from the floor, the other lifted to the mattress. Silent, his hands hung awkwardly around one knee and his shoulders slumped, reminding Jason of a depressed lion. A total reversal of the anger and hostility riveting him minutes ago, the life sucked out of him.
“She cares for you,” he admitted with obvious reluctance.
Jason rubbed his thumb across Briet’s hand. “That’s good. I love her, too.”
Ansgar crossed his arms over his chest, hands tucked under his pits. His whole body radiated the need to close off his emotions, feelings too loosely bottled. “She’s my baby sister,” he said in a low voice.
Jason closed his eyes. He understood feelings of possession. While his were new, they were familiar at the same time. “She’s all I’ve got, too.” He opened his eyes again and met Ansgar’s gaze. “I’m not going to take her away.”
Ansgar gave him a sad look. “Maybe it is what she wants.”
Jason bit back a smile. “No. She’s not a runner. She pulls people into the middle of her world—one big sun.”
Ansgar gave a small laugh. “Yeah, that’s Briet. The irresistible force.” He looked down and rubbed his hands awkwardly. “Look, I’ll go get you something to eat and drink.” He headed for the door. “Don’t do anything embarrassing, like pass out while I’m gone.”
“Thanks for the concern.”
“No problem.”
Jason waited. For hours.
He drank when Grimm told him to. He ate what Grimm gave him and he held on to Briet as if his life depended on it.
Which it did. He’d been a fool to think she was anything but all the good things in his life. She was the peace over his past, the promise of his future and the light of every day of his life. She wasn’t easy. But he’d never known easy, didn’t want easy.
He would stay put until his arms fell off and he slithered into a molecular pool of crud.
Please, let it be so easy.
***
Jason rested his head against the padded headrest of the chair and moved his arms, shifting the one under Briet’s legs. The one cold and wet.
He blinked his eyes and stared at his arm in the dim grey light of dawn streaming through the window. A dark sheen covered his skin. He nudged the blanket aside more and squinted at the patch. A cold chill washed under his flesh as he glanced at Briet’s face.
Blood dripped from her nose, ran from her ears, oozed from beneath her eyelids. Blood, matching the dark red fluid seeping from between her legs, covered his arm. He felt her body begin to twitch, a low moan filtered from between her lips.
“Grimm. Grimm!” Jason yelled at the top of his lungs, afraid to get up in case he contributed to more loss of blood.
Ansgar stuck his head in the door.
“She’s bleeding—everywhere.”
Ansgar returned with Grimm in seconds. The healer’s hands skimmed Briet’s body, pausing at points as if listening through his fingers. Given his own experience with the DNA vision ability, Jason had little doubt it was exactly what Grimm was doing.
“Bring Quan, quickly,” Grimm ordered over hi
s shoulder and turned back to Jason. “We’re going to move her to the bed. Give me one second to set up. Move your legs. Make sure you can stand up. Then I’ll take her legs and help you.”
Grimm went quickly to the closet, brought out syringes, gauze, and vials, and placed them on the bedside table. “Okay, we’ll do this quickly. Don’t let go of her afterwards.”
Jason nodded. In one swift movement, they laid Briet’s restless body on the bed, the drops and splashes of blood stark against the white sheets. Grimm covered her with another sheet and checked the bleeding from her nose and ears. “Try to hold her still.”
“What’s happening?”
Grimm didn’t respond but pressed a needle to Briet’s vein, took a sample of her blood, injected it into an empty sample tube, and pitched the syringe. He picked up a fresh syringe, withdrew the full amount of fluid from a sealed vial, and tapped it. Grimm gripped Briet’s arm and slid the needle beneath her skin.
He loaded a final syringe and passed it to Jason. “Put this next to you. It’s a coagulant. Once I start, I mustn’t stop. If I’m still working on her after thirty minutes give her this second dose.”
A tall, slender woman with long, blue-black hair, porcelain skin, and delicate almond shaped eyes entered the room.
“Quan, I need you to make sure she’s under and calm. I want her movements stopped. I don’t want her regaining consciousness until I’m done.”
The woman nodded and moved quickly around Grimm to the head of the bed to place her fingers at points along Briet’s face. The restless twitching slowed and finally ceased.
Grimm gestured to Ansgar over his shoulder. “Get him a chair.” He looked at Jason. “Hold onto her.”
Jason sat, Briet’s palm held to his face, and noted the time on his watch as Grimm closed his eyes to work his hands slowly across Briet’s body. Ansgar stood in the doorway, keeping watch. Quan waited in a chair on the far side.
No one spoke. Everyone’s worry hung heavy in the small room.
Jason waited, listened, and prayed.