For the Good of All

by Nicky Charles

  The women. Adisa. Safety just yards away when the jeeps had appeared. Gunfire… He shook his head. No, not now. The pups were depending on him. Christina was depending on him.

  He crouched ready to grab the children and run as soon as the chopper was even close to the ground. Glancing at Tina, he saw her eyes were open. She was staring at him intently as if trying to memorize his features.

  Stone reached out his hand and touched her cheek. She clutched his hand, pressing a kiss to it. His heart began to pound almost as loud as the sound of the approaching helicopter. A feeling of warmth spread throughout his chest, as if his insides were melting.

  Just then the helicopter appeared over the clearing and began to descend. The surrounding foliage started to buffet back and forth from the force of the wind it created. Stone leaned forward and gave her a hard kiss before reaching for the children.

  “I’ll take the kids to the chopper and be right back for you.”

  “Stone, I want you to know that I… ” Her voice trailed off. “Never mind.”

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

  He took a step, paused and looked at her one more time, something tugging at his insides, telling him to stay with her, to make whatever they had between them last. “Eli.”

  “Pardon?”

  He shouted over the sound to the chopper. “Eli. My name. It’s Elijah Stone.”

  “Elijah.” She smiled as she said his name as if savouring the sound. “I’ll never forget you, Elijah Stone.”

  A shiver ran over him, a queer quivering feeling that filled every corner of his being. “Christina…”

  The sound of gun fire erupted and he jerked his head towards the noise. Jeeps spilled into the opening, men jumping from them even before the vehicles had stopped.

  Stone grabbed the children and raced towards the chopper, instinctively bending low as he ran under the whirling blades. As he crossed the opening, he could see bits of soil erupting into the air as the bullets hit the ground around him.

  Arms reached out of the chopper, taking hold of the children and him, dragging them inside. Stone set the children down and pulled back, “I have to get my partner!”

  “No time man,” a voice yelled at him, tugging at him to enter the chopper.

  Let us go, his wolf snarled. The witch! We said we would return for her.

  “No! I’ve got to go back.” Stone strained against the two men who were now intent on keeping him in the machine. He braced his hand against the doorway and started to break away. A bullet whizzed by his head and grazed his hand, causing him to lose his grip and giving a momentary advantage to the men inside.

  “They’re firing at us. We have to take off!” shouted the pilot. “Get that fool in here!”

  The helicopter began to rise, Stone still only partially inside. He twisted frantically against the hands that held him, half turning and trying to jump out. Panic filled him as he took in the sight below him. Fighters swarmed over the clearing.

  She needs us! We have to save her! His wolf snapped and snarled. We gave her our blood. She is our witch now!

  “Christina!” He struggled against his rescuers, his vision blurring as his wolf threatened to take over. Suddenly, the helicopter banked to the right and he was thrown backwards, away from the door. He hit the wall on the far side, his head snapped back at the sudden stop and he slid unconscious to floor.

  Something had told Tina that this might be the end. Maybe it was the infection spreading through her body, maybe it was a vision she’d had that she was too weak to completely interpret, but as she’d gazed up at Stone, the need to memorize his face had been overwhelming. She’d wanted his image forever committed to her memory.

  He’d crouched beside her, his eyes darting from the jungle to the sky. No doubt he’d been calculating the odds of the chopper appearing before the militia arrived and plotting his defence should rescue come too late. His strong jaw had been clenched, a nerve twitching and revealing his inner tension. His dark eyes had been mere slits. His sweat-stained shirt had stuck to his body, outlining his well-muscled torso while his crouched position pulled the material of his pants taut over his strong thighs.

  She’d drank in every feature, every expression. They’d known each other such a short time. It was crazy that she’d had hopes for a relationship with him. Stupid of her, of course. Instantaneous connections and happily-ever-after didn’t happen in real life.

  In her heart, she’d known that Stone couldn’t save both her and the children. Once the helicopter landed, Stone would be lucky to get to it without being gunned down. She’d agreed with him, though. For the good of all it was best that he and the pups survive. The children had their whole lives before them. Stone had more people to save. She was just an ineffectual witch. In the grand scheme of life, this was for the best. He might have believed that he would come back to get her after seeing to the safety of the children. In her heart however, she’d known it was goodbye.

  She’d watched as bullets had hit the ground behind him, as the children had disappeared into the waiting helicopter, as arms had grabbed at Stone as he’d tried to turn to come back for her.

  Then the helicopter was lifting off, Stone still only partially inside.

  Was that his voice she heard, calling her name? Or just her fevered mind playing tricks on her?

  “Goodbye, Elijah Stone.”

  As the chopper banked to the right, she lost sight of him. She closed her eyes not trying to hold back the tears that now trickled down her face.

  The sound of gunfire and shouting filled the void left by the retreating helicopter, making it impossible for her block out what was going on around her.

  Her heart began to pound harder as fear took prominence over grief. She’d never planned on being some sort of hero who put her life on the line. She wasn’t that brave. If she was found, she’d be killed at best, tortured or raped at worst.

  Flying fish sticks, what had she gotten herself into? Thankfully, all attention was on the chopper. No one had yet noticed her lying at the edge of the clearing.

  The will to survive gave her strength she didn’t know she had left. Grabbing the field pack, she slid back along the ground, deeper into the cover offered by the lush foliage. Scooting backwards on her bottom, her progress was slow, but it was her only chance. If luck was with her, they might not even realize she was there.

  She slid sideways under a bush-like plant and pulled some of the leaves forward in an attempt to hide where she was. Of course, even a simple search would reveal the path she had taken. The bent leaves, the marks left in the dust by her heels would all act like arrows pointing out her location.

  A thought came to mind; the bee she’d hexed into going in a circle. Could she create a small whirlwind to blur her tracks? It was worth a try and if the hex went wrong, well, she could hardly be worse off than she was. She focused her energy, staring at the intended target and whispering the needed words. For a moment nothing happened and then there was a gentle stirring of the leaves and soil. Not much but possibly enough.

  The sound of the helicopter faded and Tina stopped the spell. The grass stilled, the dust settled. She strained to hear what was happening back in the clearing.

  The gunfire had stopped as had most of the yelling. She could still hear angry voices. It didn’t sound like they were fanning out in a search pattern. Maybe they didn’t know she was here. Had any of them ever seen her? Her brain couldn’t seem to recall.

  A loud discussion was occurring. After what felt like hours, a decision must have been made because it sounded like they were getting back in their vehicles and driving away.

  Had they all left? She thought so but wasn’t sure. Staying hidden would be the best course of action. Someone could have been left behind to watch in case the chopper returned. It wouldn’t, but they might not know that.

  Leaning back against the thick base of the bush, Tina mentally travelled with Stone and the child
ren to safety. Stone had told her they would head to Santa Marietta, a nearby island where some Lycans would be waiting for them. There the children would receive medical treatment and, once declared healthy, be sent back Stateside to their grandparents, High Council member, James Duffy, and his wife, Beatrix.

  Stone would be treated for any injuries sustained. Once he was declared fit then what? Would Lycan Link demand he appear for a debriefing? From what Sam had said, the organization was quite forceful. Then again, she had a feeling Stone didn’t give a damn what anyone wanted. He forged his own path in life, followed his own set of rules.

  Shifting a bit, she brushed the flies away that had settled on her wounded leg. She recalled Stone’s comment about maggots; the very idea still made her feel sick to her stomach. Being maggot food was not on her bucket list. A wry laugh escaped her.

  She was feeling light-headed now. Hot. Thirsty. In a minute she’d get the canteen out of the backpack and take a drink. There were rations left, too, and maybe a few bandages in the first aid kit. She should check the wound, crawling on the ground might have gotten dirt in it but she was tired and, if she was going to die anyway, what did it matter? As long as she didn’t die at the hands of the drug cartel.

  Would her body ever be found or would it just decompose and become part of the jungle? She let herself slide sideways so she was lying on the ground and gave into the waves of darkness. Her last vague thoughts were of Sam and Gwyneth and the verbal abuse Stone would have to take if he were the one to tell them of her fate.

  Chapter 11

  Stone awoke slowly, bright light assaulting his eyes, causing him to blink. Squinting, he scanned his surroundings, not sure of where he might be, only knowing this wasn’t a bed he would have chosen unless he was in a morgue on a slab. White ceiling, white walls, curtains around the head of the bed, a small locker... Damn. He was in a hospital.

  Furrowing his brow, he tried to recall what had happened. Something about Central America and a drug cartel. Hiking through the jungle carrying two kids. Shooting…

  Christina had been shot!

  He tried to bolt upright, his wolf urging him on, the need to go to her paramount, but something was preventing him from moving, keeping him flat on his back. He strained, struggled, the need to go to her growing exponentially, but his body refused to obey his command. Shit, had he been paralyzed?

  He took a deep breath, fighting back the panic that filled him. Think. What had happened?

  There’d been a chopper. He’d put the kids on it and was going to get Christina next. Someone had tried to hold him back. A bullet had whizzed past his head, grazed his hand and then...nothing. Experimentally, he wiggled his fingers. They moved at his command so he wasn’t completely incapacitated.

  Raising his head, he stared down at his body and realized that rather than being paralyzed he was strapped to the bed.

  What the bloody hell was going on? The regulation IV was in his arm. His head hurt, probably a concussion, maybe stitches, but he’d felt worse. He spied the call button near his left hand and signalled for a nurse, a doctor, someone...

  Soon after, a man entered the room.

  “Ah, Mr. Stone. Awake now, are we?” The man’s ID tag indicated he was Dr. Thompson.

  “Yeah, we are awake and we want to get up! What fucking idiot tied me to the bed?”

  Ignoring his comments, the doctor peered into Stone’s eyes, felt the back of his head and then checked the IV flow. Appearing satisfied, the doctor went to the door and gestured for someone to enter before finally answering.

  “You’ve been unconscious for almost twenty-four hours but were thrashing about so much that we had to restrain you for your own safety...and ours.” He directed the last bit towards the person entering the room. It was Reno.

  Stone wasted no time on social niceties. “Smith, tell this medical moron to let me go and I’ll be on my way.”

  “You’re being your usual charming self, so you must be feeling better. It’s good to see you, too.” Reno smiled sarcastically. “I’m sure the doctor intends to release the restraints.”

  The doctor nodded and proceeded to loosen the straps and remove the IV. Stone immediately sat up, swung his legs off the bed and attempted to stand. He swayed and quickly sat down again.

  “Mr. Stone, you’ve sustained a severe concussion, a bruise to your brain. I strongly advise against sudden movements like that. You’ll need limited activity so that the injury can heal.”

  If he hadn’t had a death grip on the edge of the bed, Stone would have made a crude gesture at the doctor.

  Perhaps sensing he was less than receptive, the doctor turned and addressed his instructions to Reno. “Mr. Smith, I’ll leave you to deal with him; you know the routine. There’s some acetaminophen on the table beside his bed if he needs it. Call me if there are any problems.”

  As the door shut behind the doctor, Stone tried to stand again, this time moving more cautiously. His head throbbed like the very devil, but at least he was upright. He plucked at the blue gown he was wearing. “Where are my clothes? I’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Quit acting like an idiot. Get back in bed before you fall on your face. You’ll be useless to us then.”

  “Thanks for the deep concern, Reno.” Stone started to walk towards the small locker near the door, deciding that was the most likely location of his clothing. Christina. He needed to go to her, save her. Unfortunately the floor had other ideas and was starting to undulate making it difficult to maintain his balance. He grabbed the bedside chair and sat in it. Not a complete victory, but at least he wasn’t in bed.

  His wolf growled in frustration. We need to leave. It paced restlessly, feeling caged within the frailty of the human housing it.

  Reno leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. “Are you done pretending you’re an invincible superhero?”

  “For a few minutes.” Stone set his jaw, fighting to maintain control. He wanted to bolt from the room and find Christina but his logical self knew better. He needed information first. “Where am I? And don’t say in a hospital.”

  “Well it’s not some kinky club where they dress up as doctors and nurses and tie you to a bed for fun.”

  “Can it, Reno. I’m not in the mood.”

  “Sorry, just trying to lighten things up.” Reno pushed off from the wall and walked over to the window, parting the curtains so he could see outside. You’re in Santa Marietta at a private hospital. A few of our people work here. We use it as a medical training ground so to speak. It’s off the beaten path and mostly unsupervised by the government so it suits our needs. We managed to rearrange the roster to ensure you had Lycan personnel handling your case.”

  “What about…?” Christina’s name seemed to stick in his throat, fear and faint hope warring within him.

  “The pups? They’re here in the pediatric ward none the worse for their experience.” Whether Reno was avoiding the issue or being intentionally obtuse, Stone didn’t know. He bit back a rude comment and temporarily followed the other man’s lead.

  “Have they spoken yet?”

  “No, but the doctor in charge of their case says that’s not unusual.”

  “Good.” He waited a beat, but Reno didn’t say anything.

  What about the witch? His wolf urged. We’re wasting time. She needs us.

  Stone concurred. His patience was at the end. “Christina?”

  The words had barely left his lips when Reno turned, shaking his head, his expression grim.

  “The chopper didn’t…?” One fragile thread of hope quivered in his chest. Maybe…

  “No.” Reno shook his head again. “Only you and the kids made it out. The risk factor was too high for them to go back to retrieve a body.”

  “Body?” His wolf snapped to attention, ears back, teeth bared. Lies. She can't be dead.

  “No!” Stone surged to his feet, swayed and sat down again. A bonfire of rage exploded inside him, clouding his thinking, spilling from his lips
. “You fucking bastard. You don’t know that there’s only a body!” He glared at Reno, fists clenched. “Did they see her die? She’s strong. They should have circled back. She might have…”

  Reno just kept shaking his head, a look of pity on his face. “Christina is dead, Stone. There’s no way she could have survived.”

  Stone clamped his mouth shut and looked away, breathing hard. His head waged a battle with his heart. She couldn’t be dead. And yet… He was an experienced mercenary, he knew the odds but, dammit, this time he didn’t want to accept it.

  His wolf continued to snap and snarl while Stone fought for control.

  Christina is dead.

  The words reverberated through him, echoing in his head, blocking out everything else. Reno was saying stuff, still speaking. He tried to listen, to pull his thoughts together, but could only manage monosyllabic replies.

  “I know you two were close.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s always hard when a mission goes sour.”

  “Right.”

  This is your fault, his wolf muttered.

  Stone nodded.

  You’re the one who left her behind, the animal added. You should have fought harder, jumped from the chopper.

  He tightened his fists. The bullet barely grazed my hand, he silently said. I shouldn’t have jerked away. I’ve experienced worse pain than that.

  For her you should have endured anything. You lost control of the situation and because of that she’s gone. Your fault. His wolf curled its lip, disgusted with him and turned away.

  “Stone? Did you hear me?” Reno’s voice penetrated his thoughts.

  He blinked suddenly remembering he wasn’t alone. Damn.

  Reno shoved his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat. “I hate to do this to you so soon, but High Council is blowing a gasket wanting to know what went down in Cantala. I’ve been stalling while you had your beauty sleep, but it’s wearing thin. The chopper team gave me their version, now I need yours. What happened?”

  “What happened? It was a clusterfuck.” Stone forced himself to relive the past few days, each word feeling like another nail in his heart. “When your guy, Jenkins, didn’t show up—”