“I’ll call back in a few minutes. I’ve got your photograph. You go by Amaryllis. What’s the surname you gave to the cops?”
“Amaryllis Johnson. Please get a healer to call me.”
“About that. Do you think a trained healer could actually heal that bone? Or would it take one even above you? A psychic surgeon?”
She was stunned. She wasn’t certain there was really such a thing. She had heard a whisper of it but only when Whitney had speculated that it was possible, and he was always looking for such a talent.
“If there is such a person, I would get them here as fast as possible. A psychic surgeon might be the only one who can save Malichai’s leg. I’m not certain how long they have, but the infection came on so fast it terrifies me. In the meantime, have a psychic healer talk me through getting him stable enough for a surgeon, psychic or otherwise to save his leg. I’m telling you, at this point, I think it isn’t only his leg at risk. Right now, the possibility is there that his life is as well.”
“A healer can turn that around in a matter of hours.”
She was aware of that, but she also had never dealt with anything this enormous before. “It’s Malichai,” she whispered.
There was another silence. “He’s my brother,” Ezekiel said back.
For that one small moment of silence between them, she felt they touched each other across the distance. They connected. They understood what it was to love Malichai Fortunes.
“I’ll call back very quickly. And we’ll have a plane in the air immediately.”
The relief was so tremendous, again the ridiculous, useless tears threatened. They didn’t fall because she was trained not to let them, but she felt them burning behind her eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered, but he was already gone.
She put the phone down beside Malichai and then put her head on his chest just for a moment because she needed to take a breath. To think. To try to stop the fear pounding through her brain.
“I didn’t tell you how I feel about you, Malichai. You’re always so wonderfully direct. You had the courage to tell me you were a GhostWalker and that you knew I was one of Whitney’s orphans . . .”
“GhostWalker,” he murmured without opening his eyes. His hand landed on the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair again. “You’re a GhostWalker.”
The words weren’t entirely distinct, but he said them like he meant them. A declaration he wanted her to understand. To him it made a difference and it did to her as well. She wasn’t just a frightened little girl no one wanted. She was a GhostWalker. They might have flaws, but they had unbelievable enhancements and they had formed family units and were fiercely loyal to one another.
“Yes, honey, that I was a GhostWalker like you. You had the courage to tell me you loved me . . .”
“I do love you. So much, baby. Can’t think of a life without you.”
Her heart beat so hard at what she was going to say. At what she was going to do. That leap of faith she’d never taken in her life. She closed her eyes tight, squeezing them shut like a little child, inside, holding herself still, while her blood pounded wildly through her veins.
“I love you when I’ve never loved anyone else like this. With everything in me, so much it truly terrifies me.” She lifted her head inches off his chest and found herself looking into his glittering golden eyes.
7
Those eyes of his. Malichai Fortunes had the most unusual, beautiful golden eyes. They could be amber, or whiskey colored, or like now, a glittering gold that shone through the dark like a cat’s predatory eyes. They focused wholly on her. Instead of feeling frightened by his nonblinking stare, she returned it steadily.
“You don’t have to say that to me, Amaryllis.”
His voice was low, burning with passion or fever, she couldn’t decide which. Only that he was so ill and yet all he thought of was her. Never himself. Malichai was the most unselfish person in the world. She wanted to be like him. She wanted to be a woman who deserved to be his partner.
“I know I don’t, Malichai.” She lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye, gathering her courage. He was courageous in everything he did. Everything he said. “I told you I loved you because I do. Absolutely I do. Every minute I spend in your company, I find I love you more.”
A slow smile curved his mouth and he lay back against the pillows. “I knew you’d fall for me, woman. It’s the way I wash dishes, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I can’t lie about that.” His eyes were already closing, scaring her. She wanted him talking to her, staying alert.
The phone rang again. She snatched it up the moment she saw it was from Ezekiel. He didn’t bother with a greeting. “Can you map out the cracks? That will help. You look at them now and draw them out? That will help show him what you’re seeing. He’s getting there as fast as possible. We’ll be on a plane in about fifteen minutes and I’ll be bringing a psychic surgeon with us.”
Relief swept through her so that her legs shook so much she had to sink completely down onto the bed beside Malichai. “Yes, I can do that.” She had no idea if she could, but she’d try. She was fairly good at drawing.
Ezekiel ended the call just as abruptly as he’d started it. She was beginning to see a pattern and was glad she wasn’t a woman who took offense easily. Amaryllis sat on the bed, pushed the sheet from Malichai’s leg and wrapped both hands around his calf. It was very hot to the touch. She could feel his muscles so defined and developed beneath the skin, but that didn’t stop the deterioration of the bone beneath.
When she looked up, his gaze was fixed on her face. Watching her. Looking for her to give him a sign everything was okay. Everything was not okay. Her world had crumpled around her. Her sweet Malichai. He’d turned her inside out with his frank confession. He moved her with everything he said or did. Everything he was. He had to live. He had to be saved.
She was terrified for him. Absolutely terrified. She had no idea what to do, how to wield all that power that was inside of her. She felt the power rising the moment she touched his damaged leg, the way it did when she was around anyone hurt. There was only Amaryllis Johnson, who didn’t know anything about healing to do it, and she needed to quit stalling and get on with it.
She focused her sight on his calf and allowed her vision to expand out of the narrow confines of what her mind told her she could see. At once, her hands, now hovering around Malichai’s leg, grew warm. Then hot. She could see the glow coming from her palms, a reddish orange light that caused her eyes to swim with tears. She had excellent night vision, thanks to the large cat DNA. She also had the DNA of birds of prey, which further enhanced her sight. She had to get past that and tap into sight beyond even that.
There was fear in her mind. Chaos even. Malichai meant too much to her and she was very afraid for him—very afraid of hurting him—of damaging his leg even further. She needed to quiet her mind and let all fear drop away, a difficult feat when terror for him was nearly paralyzing.
Amaryllis found she was hyperventilating. She wasn’t actually even healing him and yet she was already screwing up.
“Baby, breathe, you got this,” Malichai said gently. “You were born to do this.”
She knew she was. She knew it absolutely. She felt the heat. The power, the rising need to heal, but this was Malichai, the most important person in the world to her and she didn’t have a clue what she was doing. She gave a little shake of her head.
“Look at me, Amaryllis,” Malichai insisted.
She raised her gaze to his. His gold eyes captivated her. She felt as if she just fell into that deep, mysterious well and would drown in all that gold.
“Breathe with me. In and out. Feel your breath moving through your lungs. Concentrate on that. Don’t think about anything else until your mind is calm.”
Of course she knew how to center hersel
f. It was one of the most basic things taught to them when they were children. Still, it felt different, like caring, when she followed Malichai’s lead. It didn’t matter to him that he was feverish, that he could barely understand what was happening to him or what was going on around him, she’d needed him and he’d found a way to come through for her. She had to come through for him—and she would.
She immediately focused on the air moving in and out of his lungs. He breathed slowly and evenly, but deeply, filling his lungs and letting it out slowly. Once she was breathing with him and concentrating on that, the chaos in her mind quieted.
With new determination, she looked at his leg, her palms once again hovering a scant quarter of an inch above it. She was able to let go of fear for him and just become a healing light. Immediately she focused on that. The lantern. What it looked like, what it felt like, how the light slowly turned away from her and into him.
Her vision changed subtly, became almost opaque, as if she were seeing through a dense, cloudy veil. Behind the veil was a map in the form of pure heat. Lines were bright red, so many of them, cracks in the bone running in every direction, with tiny bubbles of liquid boiling up through those cracks. It looked like she’d stumbled onto a volcano, with the magma spreading out under the ground in all directions, looking for veins to the surface.
She mapped out every single spiderweb crack she could see and then blinked rapidly to clear her vision. Sinking back onto her heels, she looked around his room. “I need something to draw on.”
She should have found that first, but she’d been so worried that she couldn’t do it. “Malichai, honey, I need paper and a pen.”
She was already at the small desk under the window, looking back at him for confirmation. She detested going through his things without his permission, but she really didn’t know how much he was comprehending.
He didn’t respond and she found what she was looking for in one of the drawers, snapped on the light over the desk and drew a map of his bone, numbering every crack. She wanted the healer to see what they would be working with. She was as careful and as accurate as possible. Using Malichai’s phone, she snapped a picture of it and then sent it to Ezekiel with the text stating it was of his bone, a three-dimensional drawing numbering every crack and the infection seeping out of it. It was the best she could do. Now it was a matter of waiting.
She went back to the bed and once more used a cool, wet cloth to try to get Malichai’s temperature to come down. He didn’t open his eyes, but she knew he was aware of her presence because he kept reaching for her. She put lip balm on his dry lips and tried to shush him when he so obviously wanted to talk to her.
“Honey, just conserve your strength. I think your brother is taking care of things very fast for us. It won’t be long, and I’ll work on your leg and then they’ll be here to really help you. Just try to ride it out until then.”
“I have things that have to be said.”
Her heart clenched hard in her chest. Did he think he was going to die? She didn’t want to hear the things he thought necessary if that was the case. “You can say them after I work on you. Right now, it’s imperative you stay as strong as possible.”
“If something happens to me, Amaryllis, you promise me you’ll go back with Zeke and the others to Nonny. You’ll be safe there.”
Why would she want to go there without him to be reminded every single day she’d lost him? There was no way she was going to promise him something like that. No way.
He waited for her answer and when none came, when there was only silence and the cold cloth moving over his forehead, he caught her wrist. “Baby, this is serious. Sooner or later, Whitney is bound to find you. Even after Zeke gets you the perfect ID, something could trip you up. A random photo of you taken by some tourist at the wrong time.”
His voice was so low, barely a thread of sound, but each note thrummed through her body, touching her soul. Mattering to her because she mattered so much to him.
“Nothing is going to happen to you, Malichai. I’m going to heal your leg and then by tomorrow your brother will be here with some big shot healer that really knows what he’s doing and he’s going to save the day.”
Malichai still didn’t open his eyes, but his hand unerringly found hers and he wrapped his fingers around it, pulling it from his forehead to bring it to his mouth. “You’re going to save the day. You always do.” He kissed her fingers.
His lips felt hot and dry. His breath hot. But the gesture was so sweet her stomach did that slow roll that sent butterflies winging their way through her entire body.
She was desperate to change the subject. If he insisted on talking, she didn’t want to talk about him dying, or her leaving. “Do you really think Anna and Burnell overheard those people in the magic shop talking about killing the maximum amount of people?”
He was silent for a moment. She listened to his breathing. It was a little scary when it was so shallow. She wanted to snatch up the phone and tell Ezekiel to get a move on. To hurry.
“I think any time you think something like that is said, it warrants investigation. Now that someone has murdered Anna and Bryon, I would say chances are very good that something isn’t right in that magic shop.”
“That really makes me worry for Miss Crystal.”
His lashes fluttered. “Stay away from there, Amaryllis.”
“You were going to set yourself up as bait. I could do it. I’m very fast in the water and I’ve had comparable training in hand-to-hand combat if someone comes at me underwater.”
He did open his eyes then. All that gold glittered and gleamed dangerously now behind a haze of fever. “Don’t you dare.”
She wanted to smile at the absolute dictate. Her sweet Malichai thought that would stop her. Nothing stopped her when she thought something was right. In this case, she wasn’t certain.
The phone buzzed and she snatched it up to look at the message splashed across the screen.
Plane in air headed your way. Mordichai, Rubin and I are on board. Joe, our team leader and healer, is looking over your drawing now and will be contacting you under ten. Malichai needs liquids. Hydration. Do you have IV set up?
No on IV, no access. Yes on liquids. Will wait for call.
It was amazing the relief she felt knowing they were on the way when just a couple of hours earlier that would have panicked her. She got an arm behind his back and helped him half sit so she could hold a water bottle to his mouth.
“Drink, honey. Zeke’s on the way with Mordichai, who I presume is your brother, and Rubin, who you told me was with you when you saved those men on that mission. They’ll be here soon. Someone named Joe is going to call me and guide me through helping you.”
He drank some of the water, but most ran down to his chest. He lay back without commenting. She closed her eyes and pressed the cold bottle of water to her forehead. Every minute that ticked by seemed like an hour.
The phone rang in some program she wasn’t familiar with, but she answered it and immediately realized it was one much like FaceTime, but probably a secure one. Even though she wanted this more than anything, she felt all the color draining from her face. Her hand trembled as she answered.
On his side, the picture was shadowy, but she could make him out, just not his facial features that clearly. Just as she didn’t want Whitney to know about her, neither did the man who at the moment was her lifeline. She was just grateful that he was willing to do this for her.
“Amaryllis here.” Her heart pounded. She had zero confidence in herself when it came to using this particular gift. One had to learn. To practice. Especially before attempting on a human being.
“Your diagram was particularly helpful. Are you ready? Ezekiel and the others have been conferenced in, but they will stay absolutely silent.”
“They told you I have never done this, right?” She wanted him to
know.
“Yes, but you can follow my instructions. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Joe’s voice was calm and steady, but more than anything filled with confidence. “Your instincts will kick in.”
She started to protest but Malichai unexpectedly reached out and enveloped her hand with his. Just his touch gave her a level of composure she hadn’t had before. Deliberately she looked at him, let her gaze drift over his face, taking in his tough features. She leaned into him and brushed his lips with hers. Her stomach did a slow somersault.
“I’m counting on you talking me through this,” she said aloud to the healer. She forced a smile at Malichai and whispered to him, “We’ve got this, don’t worry.”
“I know you do, baby,” he murmured.
She hoped so for his sake. She could live with him having one leg, but she knew he would still continue to be sent on missions whether he had one leg or two—and he’d go. She brushed one more kiss on his lips and then she moved down to his calf once more.
She laid her hands right over his skin, not quite touching, but she could feel the hairs there rising up to meet the energy emanating from her palms. Once again, she expanded her vision outside normal human sight. It was easier now, she was familiar with the way it felt, and she didn’t fight it. Her eyes went opaque again, that dense cloudiness, a foggy barrier between her and the outside world.
Her stomach lurched as her vision moved through his skin and muscle until she could see the bone. It was much clearer to her this time. The entire bone, from thigh to calf, was riddled with tiny spiderwebbing cracks. At first the cracks appeared a dull pink behind a gray veil, but then they became clearer and clearer, turning into a deep crimson. She took her time, breathing in and out, making herself conscious of doing so. With each breath, she focused on the scorching heat rising in her, seeking an outlet, seeking the stench of illness.
Lethal Game Page 14