That fact had rocked their world when it had come out a few years earlier. She replied, “I knew about the common DNA, but all I’ve ever heard about the people from Kalithia is that they were out of their heads, monsters out to kill anybody and anything that crosses their path. Larem’s certainly not like that.”
Devlin nodded. “There’s a huge difference between the Kalith warriors and those crazy bastards we call Others. Larem, Barak, and Lusahn are all three highly trained warriors. I’d trust any of them at my back anytime. I don’t know if that’s what you want to hear, but it’s the truth.”
“I believe that, Devlin.” She finally wiped at the tears still streaming down her face. “It hurt Larem so much to kill his own kind—and he did it because of me. I’m not sure he’ll ever forgive me for putting him in that position, even though it was unintentional. Heck, I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive myself.”
Devlin tossed her a box of tissues. “He’ll get over it. Just give him time. Besides, once he found out you were down there, there would’ve been no stopping him.
“Back in Kalithia they have Sworn Guardians, an elite militia made up of highly trained warriors. Both Barak and his sister Lusahn were Guardians, and Larem served as one of Lusahn’s Blademates. Their job was to protect their people, and they take that calling very seriously.”
“How did Larem end up living here?” She was certain he wouldn’t have walked away from his duty to his people lightly.
“That’s his story to tell, not mine.”
Okay, so they both had secrets about Larem to protect. She went on, “I haven’t talked to him since.”
But she hadn’t stopped thinking about him or that kiss.
“Needless to say, I was pretty much a wreck after what happened. Now that I’ve had a chance to calm down, I’d like to thank him. Do you know how I can get in touch with him?”
For the first time, Devlin didn’t meet her gaze directly. “That might have to wait awhile.”
She froze, unable to move, as all the jagged pieces started to fall into place. Lonzo’s worry about his friend. The curtained-off area. Devlin’s questions.
“Devlin, what happened to Larem after I left?”
He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He came looking for me in the triage area outside the elevator, where we bring all the wounded and the dead. He wanted to fill me in on things, but his timing wasn’t the best. We lost a couple of guards yesterday, which is always extra hard on everyone. Paladins mostly come back from fatal wounds, but for guards, dead is dead.
“One of their buddies took the news badly, and when he saw Larem standing there, he lost it. We subdued the guy and shoved a tranq in his arm, but not before he severed Larem’s femoral artery. We almost didn’t get him to Laurel in time.”
Sasha couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t think, couldn’t scream no matter how badly she wanted to.
“Oh no you don’t, woman!” Devlin rolled to his feet and shoved her head down between her knees. “Come on, Sasha, don’t faint on me!”
He reached back to hit a button on the console behind him. “Laurel, get me a wet rag and smelling salts or some such shit.”
Seconds later, the door banged open and Devlin’s wife charged in. “Darn it, Devlin, I don’t have time for this. What did you do to her? You can’t yell at Sasha like you do your men.”
Poor Devlin. Sasha managed to draw in enough air to defend him. “He didn’t yell.”
“Then what’s wrong?” Laurel pressed a cool cloth against the back of Sasha’s neck.
“He told me about Larem.”
By then, Sasha had straightened up enough to see the look exchanged between Laurel and Devlin. What were they thinking?
“Just tell me he’s going to be okay.”
Laurel answered, “It’s been touch and go, but he’s stable now. We have him sequestered because it bothers some of the Paladins when they regain consciousness and sense a Kalith nearby.”
Then she sat down beside Sasha. “Their blood is different enough from ours that we didn’t want to transfuse him with either human or Paladin blood. Barak donated a pint for him, but it wasn’t enough. We had to make do with plasma and IV fluids, and then let nature take its course. Luckily, Larem has some of the same ability to heal as the Paladins do.”
“Can I see him?”
Again the looks flew between Laurel and Devlin. He arched a brow and she frowned. Finally, Laurel slowly nodded.
“Okay, but here’s the deal. If he’s awake, I’ll ask him if he wants to see you, and whatever he says goes. If he’s asleep, you can take a quick peek, but then you’re out of there. Right now, Larem needs rest more than he needs company.”
She softened that last remark with a small smile, but it still hurt more than it should have. There was no way Sasha would do anything that would adversely affect Larem’s recuperation. Still, she couldn’t fault the Handler for her caution. It was her job to protect her patients, no matter which side of the barrier they’d been born on.
Trying to appear calmer than she felt, Sasha nodded. “Whatever is best for Larem.”
While she waited, she turned back to Devlin and brought up another subject. “I’m guessing you haven’t had much time to work on your list of suggestions for me. With your men still on the mend, you’re shorthanded right now, so screw the report. It can wait.”
Devlin gave her a weary smile. “Thanks, I appreciate the attitude. Shouldn’t be more than a day or two before we’re back up to full strength—as long as the barrier decides to behave.”
Then the Paladin patted her on the back. “This thing with Larem was not your fault. When I find the bastard who was playing games with you, I’ll skewer him myself.”
She appreciated the sentiment, but it sure felt as if she was partly to blame. “Larem wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.”
“Yeah, but the guard who attacked him has a reputation of hating our Kalith friends. If the guy was bent on revenge, he could’ve just as easily attacked Larem some other time.”
“Maybe, but—”
Before Sasha could say more Laurel stuck her head back into the room. “Come on. He’s asleep.”
“I’ll be right there.” Sasha started for the door, then stopped to look back at Devlin. “Thanks for everything you and your men do for us all, Devlin. I figure that doesn’t get said nearly enough.”
He actually grinned. “Or at all.”
“Then I’ll add that to my list of things that should be changed around here. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”
As she walked away, Devlin stretched out on the cot in the scan room, probably to stay close to his men. She closed the door softly and headed straight toward the curtain that separated Larem from the rest of the wounded.
“I think Devlin is conking out in the scan room,” she whispered to Laurel.
“I figured he might. He hates to go far when there are this many of his men down. Mine isn’t the only lab that’s full right now.”
Laurel motioned for Sasha to follow her. “It’s better that you don’t stay long. And speaking as a doctor, you should take it easy for a day or two yourself. Physically you might be fine, but emotionally is a whole different matter. Try to get away from the office this weekend and do something relaxing. If you need to talk, give me a call.”
“Thanks, Laurel.” She gestured toward the wounded men resting across the room. “All things considered, I don’t have much to complain about.”
“You sound just like Devlin. He bleeds for his men even when he isn’t one of the wounded himself. Go check on your friend. I’ve got a few things to finish up before my boss relieves me.”
If Sasha wasn’t mistaken, that was approval she saw in Laurel’s eyes. “I promise to keep the visit short.”
Now that the moment was upon her, she found herself reluctant to step beyond the curtain that sheltered Larem from the rest of the world. Talk about cowardly. Shaking her head in disgust,
she moved the thin fabric out of her way.
Once again the tears started. His complexion, always pale, now had a bluish undertone that couldn’t be good. She cataloged his condition, noting that they had him hooked up to drains and IVs, and machines to monitor his recovery. Gone was the intensely vital warrior who had fought for her life. And in his place, there was this . . . this bruised and battered man who looked all too fragile. Was it really less than twenty-four hours ago?
She gently brushed a soft lock of his long hair back from his forehead. Coal black shot through with silver was such an odd color to frame such a young face. She doubted he was more than a year or two older than she was.
Her father would probably freak out big-time if she were to admit that she found a Kalith handsome. Heck, it wasn’t all that long ago that she would’ve laughed at the idea herself.
But not now.
She whispered a small prayer for his quick recovery. It was time to leave, although she did so reluctantly. Somebody should stay close by in case Larem needed anything, but she’d promised to keep her visit short. Maybe Laurel would allow her to return tomorrow if she kept her word and left quickly.
“Sleep tight, Larem. Get well fast.” She gave the sleeping man’s hand a gentle squeeze before bolting for the exit. The last thing she needed was for him to wake up and find her crying.
Chapter 8
Larem hoped she was gone. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could fake being asleep. Not with Sasha’s hand on his, her soft voice whispering near his ear. At first he’d thought it was a dream, just another in a long line that he’d had since first meeting her. But no, he was hurting too much for this to be anything other than reality.
He slowly inhaled and immediately recognized the blood and chemical stench of Laurel Young’s medical lab. For a few seconds he was confused about how he came to be stretched out on one of her stainless steel tables before it all came trickling back. Talking to Devlin about what had happened down in the tunnels. Someone swinging a sword—a guard maybe. Trahern protecting Larem from further attack.
Then periods of total oblivion mixed with the occasional vague awareness of pain. Voices—some familiar, some not. He hated knowing he’d been at the mercy of strangers. Granted, he trusted Laurel Young, but he didn’t know how her coworkers felt about having a wounded Kalith for a patient.
The whole idea left him feeling vulnerable. With that in mind, he moved his arm enough to realize he wasn’t chained down as the Paladins usually were. Good. Not that he could muster much of a defense if he was attacked.
He heard footsteps. Someone was coming, but not Sasha. He quickly closed his eyes just in case. A draft of cool air washed over him as his visitor pulled the curtain back.
“You can open your eyes now, Larem. She left.”
Relieved that it was Laurel Young, he did as she said. He had questions for her but found it hurt too much to talk. He managed a hoarse whisper. “Water?”
“Sure thing.” Evidently his request pleased her, because she was smiling when she held a straw to his lips. “Take little sips.”
The chill of the water slid down his throat, soothing away the dry pain. The effort it took to swallow pretty much sapped what little energy he had. He closed his eyes briefly and tried again. “Status?”
Laurel set the glass aside and checked his breathing and pulse with her usual efficiency. Her fingers felt strong and impersonal against his skin, unlike the warmth of Sasha’s brief touch. The comparison bothered him. He shouldn’t be thinking about Sasha at all. Not after the events of . . . when?
“How long?”
Laurel finished her cursory examination and looped her stethoscope around her neck. “Since yesterday afternoon. We had to surgically repair your femoral artery. At least your Kalith healing ability has finally kicked in, so you’re well on your way to making a full recovery.”
She adjusted the flow of the plastic bag of fluids that hung on a pole at the head of his table. “We gave you a unit of Barak’s blood to make up for the puddle you left behind on the floor. I’ll check your blood count later, but it’s been climbing steadily.”
No wonder he felt as if he’d been run over and left for dead. “Anyone else?”
Laurel bit her lower lip before answering. “Well, you know how the Paladins like a good party. Once one of them gets to come hang out with me, they all want to come. Lonzo is still here. Which reminds me, he said to tell you this wouldn’t get you out of doing chores. If you want to argue the point, I’ll wheel him over to see you as soon as he feels up to it.”
“It’s my week to do the laundry.” But then fear for his friend sent a shard of new pain ripping through Larem’s chest. “Is he badly hurt?”
“He was. He’s better, just like every other Paladin who managed to get himself cut up the past couple of days.” She reached to offer Larem water again.
“We also lost a couple of the guards. Sorry, I don’t mean to be such a downer.”
She held the straw to his lips. “I’m going off duty for a few hours as soon as I’m done here with you, but my boss will be around to check on you while I’m gone. If you need anything, press the button there on the side rail. If Dr. Neal is busy, my technician Kenny will come running.”
Larem took a long drink. “Thanks.”
The Handler seemed reluctant to leave. She insisted on fluffing his pillow and then adjusted the light overhead. What was she trying not to say?
“Laurel, spit it out, even if you think I won’t like it. I can’t put up much of a fight right now even if it does make me mad. Later maybe, though.” He held up a shaky fist to demonstrate.
She stopped fiddling with the dials on the monitors and turned to face him. “Okay, hard-ass. Here it is.”
Laurel bent down to whisper in his ear, reminding him that the curtain only gave the illusion of privacy. They weren’t alone, and any Paladins who were awake could hear every word if they weren’t careful. Laurel knew that better than most, so he’d have to trust her judgment on the matter.
“Sasha Willis stopped by to see me and ended up telling Devlin everything about what happened between the two of you yesterday. That’s how she found out you’d been hurt. I don’t mean to be telling tales out of school, but she took it hard.”
Sasha told Devlin everything? Somehow Larem doubted that. She’d never want anyone to find out she’d knowingly let a Kalith touch her—or that she’d liked it.
“That’s okay.” What else could he say?
“The thing is, I think she’ll be back. You know, to check on your progress.” There was a great deal of curiosity in Laurel’s dark eyes, but she was too tactful to press for details.
“Thanks for the warning.”
“If you don’t want to see her, I can tell her that I’ve restricted visitations until you’re fully recovered.”
Oh, he wanted to see Sasha all right. Too much, in fact. But considering he’d been attacked by a guard, feelings were already running high against him right now. The last thing she needed was to be seen favoring the enemy.
“She’s just feeling obligated because of what happened.” And he didn’t need her gratitude, especially because of what had happened.
Laurel’s eyes narrowed in obvious doubt. “We’ll see how you feel about it tomorrow. We don’t get a lot of visitors anyway, so I can honestly say that we’re not really set up for it. I need my patients to get all the rest they can while they’re here.”
Laurel stood back up and laid the back of her hand on his forehead. “No fever. You’re definitely on the mend. I’m glad, Larem. Very glad. Now get some sleep. You’ll need all the energy you can get to duke it out with Lonzo over the whole laundry thing.”
“Tell him to bring it on.”
“I’ll do that. Right now, though, a feather could knock both of you over. It wouldn’t be much of a contest, so I won’t be starting a betting pool anytime soon.”
“Don’t blame you.” He was a healer himself and recognized when so
meone else was running on empty. “I’ll be fine, Laurel. Go get some rest.”
“Nag.”
“Somebody should.”
He managed to hold on to consciousness until her footsteps faded into the distance, leaving behind only the soft chorus of beeping machines to lull him to sleep. And if the last thought he had was of Sasha, well, no one had to know.
Contrary to Dr. Young’s advice, Sasha was back in the office bright and early Saturday morning. She’d already lost too many hours over the past couple of days to take the whole weekend off as well. At least she had the place to herself for the moment.
Where to start? E-mail first and then she’d follow up with D.J. to see if he’d made any progress. Later, maybe she’d take a short break and go back downstairs to the lab and check on the status of Laurel’s patients, one in particular.
As she logged in to her account, she sipped her white chocolate latte with cinnamon and whip, postponing having to wade through the unending barrage of e-mails. Back home, her local barista had laughingly called the combination a “Sasha special.” Hopefully she’d be living in Seattle long enough to become a regular at the coffee shop here, too. That would be nice.
A knock on the door startled her out of her reverie. “Come in!” she called.
D. J. Clayborne stuck his head inside the door. “Hi. I thought I’d let you know I’m back working on the bastard’s records this morning. Didn’t want to freak you out if you heard me banging around next door.”
“I appreciate the warning, D.J.” She picked up her coffee. “Can I see what you’re working on? I promise not to hover.”
“Sure thing. Give me a few minutes to get started first.”
The Paladin took off for Kincade’s old office at just short of a run, which seemed to be his only speed. Even when he was sitting at the computer, he was always in motion—foot tapping, his hand pounding the desk with a rhythm only he could hear, anything to burn off some of his endless supply of energy.
A few minutes later, she heard D.J. start cursing a blue streak. She hurried into the adjacent office to find him staring at the computer screen with the strangest look on his face.
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