“I’m coming with you next week.”
“To where?”
“Boston.” He shook his head, and she responded with a dark glare. “You don’t have to give me permission. It just is. We just are.”
Their gazes met and held. “The procedure has a fifty-fifty chance of success, twenty to get to walk and have full function of everything.” And he wanted those other things, wanted to be a whole man for her.
She shook her head. “You don’t get it. I’m not going for the miracle, I’m going for you.”
If she stayed, he’d throw away his pistol and hollow point, but if the surgery failed…would she, in the face of the no-miracle reality, step away?
And he knew if that happened, he’d no longer spin the barrel holding his one bullet. He’d set it true.
Jaz pulled up a chair and took his hand. He squeezed it back, his heart tightening with hope, and turned back to watch the day.
The deer glanced behind her, and raced into the trees. A cougar stalked out of the mist and followed.
Even when the world showed the hidden beauty of life, Xylvar knew, darkness always stalked.
#
Jasmine woke. A soft wumph and then another, the slow crackle of a dried leaf being crushed, came from outside her cabin. A bear? The same sound from a little farther away. Two bears tiptoeing through the forest? Yeah, sure, happened every day.
She sat up, reached for her bedside table, palmed a knife and small blaster. The world’s oversupply of bad guys and several pissed-off Mule dealers who’d escaped incarceration kept her on the cautious side of paranoid.
She slid to the floor and eased to the side of her bedroom window. A night sky full of clouds stole most of the light, but about fifty yards from her cabin she made out two people, both carrying some sort of sack, skulking through the woods. Both heading straight for Crea land. She hurried for her link, sent a quick alert to Xylvar, Kaid, and the Crea clan.
Bingo. Looks like what she’d overheard in the café was about to pay off.
A quick scramble into her fighting clothes, and she knifed and blastered up before racing down the four steps of her cabin. Hands in black gloves, she pulled down a thin ski mask. Blasters aimed and primed to shoot, she headed into the woods. A small twig cracked behind her. Shit! With a smooth sidestep, she glided around the bark of small tree. On a wider arc, but heading in the same direction, were two more people.
Two by two. Surrounded by the scent of scuffed earth, tumbled, moldy leaves, and freshly broken fern fronds and small twigs, she carefully focused into the darkness. Through the soft mist rising from the still day-warm detritus, she just made out the fuzzy, more opaque shape of two more men.
Shit. At least six of the bastards. She didn’t dare move. There could be dozens of them.
She let a minute pass, and, seeing no others, hurried from one tree to another. Since she hadn’t stayed in clan for so many years, she didn’t have the lay of the land ingrained in her.
Someone came running up behind her, Jasmine palmed a knife and spun, then eased back at the scent of an Eli she vaguely recognized. The female came to her side, pushed the knife away.
“You’re going to have to teach us those knife skills, but not tonight. We’ll go in together.”
On feet lightly skimming the ground, they darted between trees and rocks. The other female put up her hand just as Jasmine made out the shape of a cabin and the unmistakable sounds of flesh meeting flesh, blasters zinging, and the grunts and moans of the injured, or just about dead.
Her eyes adjusted, taking in the camouflaged Crea, several of whom were on the ground, either dead or unconscious, and the darker-dressed men she’d seen skulking through the forest. Two other Crea, glowing gold, were in nothing more than loose T-shirts and loose pants, their bare feet glowing as they fought.
A ping and one of the males pulled something out his arm. As he staggered sideways, he grunted, “Tranqs.” Then dropped to his knees and keeled over onto the ground.
“Bastard.” Braced for a fight Jasmine sized up an opponent. She slid behind a tree, throwing star aimed for the back of a man’s neck. Base of the spine, a death shot if it landed right.
Several more Elis arrived, two darting behind and taking out the guy she’d lined up. She darted toward a Crea and two men fighting, threw a knife into one man’s thigh, another star into his other thigh. He dropped to his knees, and the Crea grabbed the other male, snapping his neck, dropping the twitching body to the ground.
An influx of Crea arrived, vehicles close behind, coming to sliding stops. The takedown of the black-clad ones was swift and ruthless.
She pulled her knife out of a man she just killed, wiped it on the grass, and put her knife away. “Damn, missed most of the fun.”
“Always the way,” the Eli female she’d met in the forest said, holding out her hand. “I’m Thea.” Jasmine shook it.
“Jasmine.”
“I heard your knife skills are radical. I’m in charge of training. Would you train some of our soldiers to do what you do? I’d also like to train some of the no-combat woman and older girls. Give them some self-defense.”
“Sure. Xylvar’s as good if not better. He taught me basics when we were not much more than kids.” And they’d both built on those skills in the years since.
“I know, but women feel safer around another woman, and he’s…intense.”
“Intense. Yeah that’s one word for it.” She got his dark, brooding manner could be off-putting. “He’s a good man, though.”
“Oh, I know. Kaid wouldn’t have him within ten miles of clan or clan members if he wasn’t.” Thea waved at Dan. “Well, there’s the man I’m hunting now. Catch you later.” She jogged off, heading for Dan, who looked surprised by Thea’s arrival at his side.
Xylvar appeared, blood spray smeared down the side of his face.
She hurried to his side. “You okay?” She looked him over.
“Blood’s not mine.” He gave her a dry smile. “Your alert totally blew the best card hand I had all night.”
“Sorry to disturb your boys’ night.”
He moved his head to one side, a funny look on his face. “Haven’t had a boy’s night since Tony. I—enjoyed it.”
She laughed. “Of course you did. You’re human, not a machine. People, even people as aloof as yourself, need people.” And even though intense, he’d been gregarious and fun when she knew him before.
Zane got out of a vehicle and dropped a link from his ear. “Attack on two cabins, northern boundary, between Todd’s Stream and Harper’s Rocks.” He put the link down, and turned to a group of Crea. “Team three, take the captured to the holding cells. I’ve contacted Sheriff Gillespie, and he’ll have them moved to a state lockdown in the morning.”
More vehicles arrived, and Jasmine made out Kaid and several others. “We’re done here, let’s head home.”
Jasmine jumped into Xylvar’s vehicle.
His finger tapping on the steering wheel, he turned to her. “You shouldn’t have gone off on your own.”
She scowled. “How’d you know I…”
“Because I know you.” On that, he followed the other vehicles though Crea land.
“They had tranqs. This had to be the planned kidnapping I heard about in the café.”
“Blood drainers. I’m hoping the Crea crack the few still alive open to get us some more names.”
She checked her knives and repositioned their sheaths across her chest. “I hope so too. I missed all that fight, and most of the one today. Today, David scored all the fun.”
In the darkness, Xylvar’s teeth were white, his silver softly glowing against the dash’s green lights. “That’s what I thought, too.”
A distant explosion shuddered through the night.
The vehicles sped up. Minutes later, Jasmine leaned forward, trying to see through the thick pall of dust. “What the…?”
Xylvar stared through the dust, watched the vans and four-wheel drives i
n front tip and jerk around while they drove around a large crater. “Someone’s tried to blow the track, and only managed to dig a big hole.” He shook his head. “Shoddy work.”
He eased around the crater, the van tipping precariously to the left before bouncing onto flat ground again.
Several white vans, two with blue stripes, were off to one side. Men clad in black, blasters in hand, stood ready and waiting.
The clan vehicles stopped, Crea and Eli piling out and blasting.
“Fight’s on.” Jasmine pulled out a knife and palmed a blaster once again. Outside she waited until Xylvar hit the ground. Throwing his chair into auto, he stayed at her side while she ran to join the fray.
#
Zane limped around the debris from the fight with Kaid, who held a wad of fabric to a deep flesh wound on his arm. “Six vans with tranqs and chains. Another has been found deep in Eli land, using an old track from the wildlands.”
Zane looked over at the Eli and Crea who’d come to fight, many of whom were injured and several dead, and shook his head. “We are entering ugly times. That’s enough vans and equipment to take at least twenty-four Crea or Eli.”
“And since they targeted these outer cabins, the ones they know lone males usually reside in, they want males for their larger bodies, higher blood volume.”
“Crea for the more valuable gold.”
Thunderous rage on his face, Zane punched his right fist into his palm. “Only someone from clan could possibly know about the outer cabins and their locations in such detail.” The last, an acid bath of betrayal.
Kaid looked around the fight zone. “Well that’s the intel we had, but then you have to think about it. Aerial images of clan lands are not allowed to be published. So, if someone is using aerial images to zero in on cabins and tracks, then we know this involves someone with governmental clearance. The agent from the FBPI we believe is dirty would have that clearance.”
Those capable of walked started to form a semi-circle around the two clan leaders. Several murmured their distrust of the FBPI.
Jasmine shook her head. “He would, but only after it was approved by his superior. It would only be approved if there had already been an attack on the region.”
“And there was. Only a few months ago on Eli land.”
She blew a breath out. “Of course. And the aerial would cover the whole of Katoom.”
Zane watched the medics help two injured. “It was a Crea, I can almost smell it. Someone who knows clan.”
Rooster, a large wad of meditape on his head came over, nodded to them. “Remember the Crea traitor might be being coerced. The Pures might have someone or something he values.”
Murmurs of dissent came from the growing numbers in the semi-circle. Kaid put up his hand and called for quiet. Zane almost grinned when he saw his clan members look to him for his nod of approval at the order. Crea and Eli might work side by side, but they were still on Crea clan land, and Zane was the Crea clan leader. He’d have expected the same from the Eli if he’d given the order.
When the clearing fell silent, Zane stepped forward. “We know a Crea may have been involved in tonight’s attack. We weren’t sure of which clan he came from, or which clan would be hit. Somewhere out there is either an active member or ex-member of our clan who is working with the Pure movement.”
Zane flexed his neck. Flashed full gold. “A traitor. I want all my clan to think hard to see if they know anyone who might have the capacity to conspire to make this to happen. Someone who knows our lands from past or present experience. Even if you have the slightest idea Uncle Marvin could do this, I want you to report that suspicion to me. To no one else, just me. No vigilante justice will be allowed, and we must be positive we have our man.”
“And when you are positive?” someone called out.
“I can’t wait to meet him.” Zane spun and headed toward the van picking up the dead. Two of which were Crea. He had mates and parents to inform, children to try and explain to why their father won’t be home today, or any day. The day ahead loomed even more depressing than the night.
Yeah, Zane wanted the traitor—couldn’t wait to see his blood flow.
37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Five days passed, and Xylvar, locked in a full-torso brace to prevent movement, couldn’t feel any changes other than the expected dull ache where the surgeons removed the electrical stimulators from his two spinal areas and the base of his skull.
If the procedure failed, a newer model would be inserted, but they needed his body to heal without stimulus, so the nano-robotically-modified cells could begin to form nerves. Those cells would replicate and form new connections in his spine first, then expand out into other areas of damage.
Jaz passed him the special sip cup full of coffee. “I can hold it for you.”
He lifted his eyes, and if death by icy glare was possible, she’d turn to dust. “I’m not a baby.” Though the sippy cup sure blew any chance of looking manly for at least a decade.
“Don’t piss yourself, I know you can do it for yourself. Learn to give a little. In relationships, and I’m pretty sure we have one, odd as it is, you can admit you might like help. It helps the other person feel useful.”
He sipped his coffee, closing his eyes a moment to savor the taste, the caffeine, Jaz being at his side.
“Told you that café made the best coffee. They say it’s a blend, and they double-roast the beans before they grind.”
Xylvar sipped some more. “It’s okay.” A lie, but he didn’t want her to think he’d agree too easily.
Jaz pulled up the small tablet hanging at the end of the bed. She tapped in the code she’d seen the nurses use and ran over the information on it like she knew what it meant, or like she hadn’t done it twice yesterday.
“Doc been around today?”
“Yep.”
“And?”
“And what?”
Jaz threw up her hands. “Augh. For sanity’s sake. What did he say about your progress? And don’t lie.”
He could almost hear her grinding her teeth. It would be amusing… “My lack of progress is a disappointing development.”
She sat a little straighter, lifted her chin as if bracing for a punch. “It will take time. You had a lot of damage, and it was nearly three years old. I’m sure with more time, those little nanocreaturethingies will get there.”
The problem was, he still felt nothing. Not even tingling, or heat, or even fucking pain below his waist. “I know.” Trapped in the brace, time was something he was very aware of. Every second and minute added together as he waited for the miracle he knew wasn’t going to happen.
He lifted her left hand and covered his face with it, drawing in her scent and warmth. Hiding meant he didn’t have to desperately try and maintain his I-don’t-care face, disguise the continuous agony of bitter disappointment. For just a minute, he’d hide behind her hand while his heart—the one who’d actually believed he could do it, the one who’d thought he could stay with Jaz even if the surgery wasn’t successful—crumbled.
He would not destroy her life by saddling her with half a man. Being with her when he remained like this wasn’t a life for her. The end of his story lay in the kitchen drawer at his old apartment, and time would see him back there, feeding his squirrels one final time.
#
Jasmine watched him hide behind her hand, and snatched it away, catching the fleeting, desperate disappointment before the mask snapped into place.
“Oh, no you don’t.” She dropped to her knees beside the specialized bed, and put her hands on both sides of his head. “Xyl, look at me.”
A moment passed, and she could feel the sucking vacuum of Xylvar pulling away inside her chest. “Don’t you dare. You can’t do this alone. We can do it together.”
“Did before, can do it again.”
“But this time you don’t have to. Don’t you see the woman beside you, throwing her fucking heart at you? I never thought
I’d do this to myself again, but then…there you were in that stupid café, all angry and changed, and so, so, so…”
He closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. “Say it.”
“Lost.”
He pulled a face. “I wasn’t lost. The Xylvar you knew was no longer there.”
She stood, brushed her hand down her top. “You’re such an arrogant asshole, thinking you know it all. You were selfish when you left years ago, when you knew I cared for you, and now you’re selfish and cruel. I want you in my life, but you have to want me, too.”
She thumped her hand on her chest. “But think about this while you wallow in your self-pity. I won’t wait for you forever.”
She leaned down and kissed his head, put her hand over where his heart would be under the special cast. “I know who you are, and it doesn’t matter to me whether you’re a man who walks and can get a hard-on or can’t. I loved you once before, but I fell in love with the man you are now. Don’t throw that away.”
Anger and hurt boiling under her skin making her beast bubble silver over her skin in thick silver streaks, she stormed to the door. “And Xyl, that pistol you had in your kitchen drawer? I know what it was for, and I had Kaid destroy it.”
A middle-aged nurse who did most of the daytime care for Xylvar smiled warmly at her.
Jasmine burst into tears and ran.
#
A week later, he didn’t care if he lived or died, because the pain and tingling in his legs and feet and the heat scorching his lower spine made life a living nightmare. And the nightmare was expected to continue, might never go beyond, but the surgeon…whose nerves did not blister in Hell every second…was thrilled.
Though the procedure hadn’t worked the way they all hoped, Xylvar felt things he’d hadn’t felt since his accident. Pain below his waist, and self-loathing for hurting Jaz.
Flames of Hope Page 31
