Neva furrowed her brows. “What’s that sound?”
Cassie quit chuckling and heard it too. Rotor blades, coming nearer. Lyssa stood and parted the curtains, peering out the window overlooking the courtyard. The last thing Cassie expected was a chopper to land at Kinmylies and unload SEAL Team Three. She whooped and dashed from the room, on her way to the great hall.
She cursed as she doubled over on the stairway, seized by those damned cramps. Cassie hugged her knees, rocking to pass the time until the pain subsided.
“Cassie! Oh, no! What’s wrong?” Lyssa knelt and wrung her hands, unsure of what to do.
“Nothing.” Cassie gritted her teeth and forced herself to uncurl from the fetal position. Twelve labored breaths later, she was fine. “See, nothing to worry about. No need to say anything to Jack. Or Kyros either.”
“I think you should tell — ”
“No! I mean it. Not a word.”
“Fine, but I think you’re wrong.”
“Duly noted. Now let’s go.”
The great hall at Kinmylies was cavernous, but it seemed cramped with a half-dozen berserkers and another half-dozen Navy SEALs milling around.
“Pops! Chief!” Cassie skipped from the stairway into a double hug from both SEALs.
Pops smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Thundercat, baby. You tired of Doolittle yet?”
Chief elbowed him and winked. “I get first dibs.”
Cassie surprised them by joking, “I could never choose. How ’bout a three-way?” She must be getting the hang of their humor; they laughed with their heads tossed back and squeezed her shoulders.
“You look good, Thundercat. Any particular reason why you’re glowing?” Chief’s eyes had a mischievous twinkle. He knew. Impressive intuition for a guy.
“Yes, actually. How did you know? Your answer had better not include the words extra or weight.”
“Nah, Doolittle told me. Congrats.”
“Yo, Thundercat,” Chet called, and she waved back. She also saw Buck, Wade and Subway.
“I’m glad Memphis isn’t here,” she muttered to Chief. “It’s been bad. You shouldn’t have come, but I’m glad you did. What are you doing here anyway?”
“Well, it’s complicated.”
“I’ll try to keep up, Chief.”
Cassie noticed Jack watching her, only half his brain engaged in his conversation with Kyros and a uniformed officer she didn’t recognize. Uh-oh. Was she too flirty just now? Cassie winked and sent Jack a silent message, telling him with a wave of heat what she meant to do to him once she got him alone. He calmed down. A little.
“On the record, this is a training mission for a classified operation.”
“Ah, you said my favorite c-word.”
Chief smiled. “Mine too, sweetheart. Captain Russo signed off on the transport and the equipment. My mission report says we’re here to train in high-altitude and rocky terrain. We’ll probably blow something up to make it honest.”
No wonder Jack hadn’t breathed a word about the SEAL team coming. She didn’t like him keeping it from her, but if there was a mole somewhere in Kinmylies, the enemy could have heard about it and been waiting with firepower when they landed.
“What’s your MO?” Wow, she sounded cool, throwing around military lingo like a pro.
He lowered his voice and barely moved his lips. “We’re going to catch your sniper and defend the perimeter. If an attack comes from the forest, they’ll have to get through us first.”
Fireworks went off in Cassie’s mind. This was perfect. Well, almost, the exception being her friends in danger. “I like it, Chief. Make Mr. X put up or shut up.” Just the diversion she’d been waiting for.
“You got it, sweetheart.”
Jack was on his way to their side of the room. Pops noticed the murderous gleam in his eye and called, “Skinny dipping, Thundercat. Don’t forget, oh-two-hundred hours.” He did a throat growl and bounced his brows, then shouldered his pack and slapped Jack on the back. “Cool party here, Doolittle. Thanks for the invite.” He wandered over to the others, leaving Jack fuming.
She wasn’t in the mood to cater to Jack’s petty jealousy. She turned back to Chief. “Well, I’d better get back to Neva and let you settle in. Hope you like haggis and porridge. Chances are it’s on the menu tonight.”
“We brought MREs just in case.”
“Good. I’d take my chances with NASA-engineered tuna macaroni if I were you.”
He grinned, it made him look years younger and less hardened. “I’ve had worse.”
She smiled back. “That’s the right attitude to bring to Scotland.” Cassie dropped her smile and looked Chief in the eye. “Look, do me a favor and tell the guys to keep their Kevlar on? For me? I’d hate you to bring me something I can’t fix.”
“Will do, Thundercat.”
Chapter 23
There are only two people who can tell you the truth about yourself —
an enemy who has lost his temper and a friend who loves you dearly.
—Antisthenes, 445 – 365 BCE
Something was wrong. It woke him, that unsettling feeling. Cassie squirmed in his arms then blinked awake, listening.
What is it, Jack?
Dunno. He rolled to reach the two-way on the bed stand. I’ll check in —
“Cassie? Cassie! Where are you? Bugger!” Someone was going down the hall, banging on every door and shouting.
They both jumped out of bed and pulled on clothes. She yanked the door open and stuck her head out before he could pull her back. Her combat instincts needed work. A flashlight beam hit them both in the face, and Jack growled, his vision exploding in a painful blast of white heat, like looking at the sun.
Cassie shouted, “Tom! What’s going on?”
Tom whined in relief. “It’s my mum. The baby’s comin’, and somethin’s wrong.”
Jack staggered after Cassie, barefoot and blind. He caught her hand and made her tow him behind her. His eyes throbbed and watered as psychedelic spots in primary colors danced under his eyelids. He’d be useless for at least ten minutes.
“Where’s Kyros?” Cassie asked.
Tom sounded like he would hyperventilate. “I couldn’t find him. So I came for you.”
“He’s out on patrol,” Jack answered, glad he’d grabbed the radio. He tuned the dial to the private channel reserved for him and Kyros, hoping he’d done it right by touch, and tapped in the code for abort and fall back. “I just paged him. If he can come, he will.”
Cassie grilled Tom with all kinds of medical questions he couldn’t answer. Jack doubted a seventeen-year-old boy even knew what a cervix was. Jack probably broke every one of his toes, stumbling blindly after Cassie and Tom from the academy to the great house. The closer they came to Neva’s quarters, the noise of panic roared louder in their ears. The unmistakable sound of Neva screaming through a raw throat froze his blood.
He felt Hugh’s presence before Cassie registered him barring the door. Ben lurked off to the side, returned from wherever he’d disappeared to recently. Panic and anger rolled off them both in waves. Fantastic. They were itching for a fight, likely to be unreasonable, and Jack was as blind as an NFL referee.
“Put that flashlight down, Tom. You fool!” barked Ben. Tom wasn’t old enough to feel sensitivity to light as his elders did. The night vision grew keener with maturity. “Oh, bloody hell. He’s brought her.”
Neva’s wailing choked off, followed by the racket of something heavy crashing to the floor in the room.
Hugh cursed and yelled at his son, “No, Tom. Get away, all of you!”
“Jack, you have until thirty seconds ago to get out of my house before I — ”
“Shut your mouth, Ben,” Jack called. “Hugh, Kyros isn’t here, he’
s not even close by. I paged him, but even if he can come, it will take time.”
Neva’s high-pitched scream drowned every other sound. Jack had only heard the like in an Iraqi prison, from a victim being flayed alive. Everyone in the hallway flinched, and a fresh wave of dread settled over them.
“I don’t have time!” Hugh roared, then choked on a sob.
Jack shoved forward, in the direction of Hugh’s voice. “Then let Cassie help. Think, Hugh. What really matters right now?” A pitiful keening sound raked over the nerves of every man in the hallway, the sound of a female in misery, a sound she made when losing the fight against pain and exhaustion. No man could endure that.
Without a word Hugh stepped aside and opened the door. He heard Cassie push through and fly into action, barking orders to the nurses. Good girl. Before Jack took another step, his arms were pinned together and trussed behind his back.
Hugh warned, “Not goin’ in, Jack.”
“I can’t let her out of my sight, not for anything.”
“Too bad. No.”
“Hugh, I can’t even see. Tom blinded me with the flashlight. Just let me guard the window, I’ll face the wall.”
It was Ben who restrained him from behind. If he shoved Jack’s shoulder blades any higher, Jack was going to rip his arms out of the sockets, and to hell with trying to make peace.
Ben snarled in his ear, “If she dies, I’ll take it out on your hide.”
Neva screamed again, making everyone cringe.
Jack muttered low so only Ben could hear. “Do it. But it won’t bring Kelly back.”
“Bastard!”
That was Ben’s favorite insult. Ever since the first time Jack trounced both his brothers in a fight, they’d assumed his superior strength came from a naughty secret Maggie MacGunn kept. Jack didn’t care what Ben called him, but the dishonor to their mother was unacceptable. Jack inserted his voice in Ben’s mind and turned up the volume. Insult our mother again and it’ll be the last thing you do.
Ben gnashed his teeth, hating the power Jack had over his mind, hating every way Jack was superior to him. Jack had long become immune to the hatred Ben spewed.
Cassie made a sound of despair, the nurses echoed it, and Jack couldn’t stand it. He jerked his elbows back, breaking Ben’s grip. It wasn’t hard to do. Jack caught Hugh on the shoulder and muttered a Gaelic prayer for good fortune before he pushed into the room.
Cass, you all right?
She answered hastily, Oh Jack, it’s so bad. I don’t know what I can do, they waited so long to get help.
Tell me what you need.
A miracle.
Fresh out.
A modern hospital.
Sorry.
She swore, was occupied for a few minutes, then shouted, Damn it, can’t you get Kyros?
Working on it.
Jack tried to tune out the sounds in the room, the chorus of stricken thoughts laced with words like perforation, hemorrhage, fracture, obstruction. Now that Neva hardly made a sound, the word was shock. He had never been grateful to be blinded before. The activity in the room slowed to a resigned halt, it seemed only Cassie thought there was any hope.
Jack bowed his head as he heard Hugh’s muffled sobbing into the mattress.
Cassie shouted for Tom and sent him racing off on an errand. She called Hugh’s name until she got his attention. The third time he finally understood what she asked, “What’s your blood type?”
Silence. He had no idea. Jack hated to tell her, but the MacGunns didn’t see the inside of a hospital. They trained their own in nursing, and it had been adequate, or not, for a few dozen generations. She wouldn’t understand the way his clan accepted death. It wasn’t a philosophy in style with modern technology. Other people prolonged their lives unnaturally, had no faith in the afterlife. He believed, yet the thought of himself in Hugh’s place, weeping his heart out in farewell didn’t sit well. He already knew he didn’t have the strength for it.
Jack could make out Cassie’s silhouette as she bent over the foot of the bed. His vision was slowly returning.
Jack, I need your help.
Anything.
Once Tom comes back with needles and tubing, I’m going to improvise a blood transfusion. You’re O-neg, so you’re it. Tom is probably a compatible donor, but I can’t risk it.
Sure. He made his way carefully to the bed, knelt, and rested his arm palm-up on the mattress. He remembered Cassie saying once his blood was ‘vampire crack.’ She’d typed a sample just for kicks when she was in med school. Not only was he the universally compatible type O-negative, but she said he had ‘funky stuff’ in his blood, supercharged with nutrients, antibodies, and blah, blah, blah. He’d said, “Well, duh,” and she’d been upset he didn’t share her zeal. Now, he was glad.
“Neva? Neva!” Cassie patted her cheeks, her voice betraying anxiety. “Neva, honey. Stay with me. You hang on, okay?”
No response, and her breath was deathly shallow, her pulse even weaker.
Hugh metered his breath and stroked his wife’s hair, doing far better than Jack would in his place.
Tom stumbled through the door, his arms full of equipment. Kyros and Ben came after him, with Ben yelling as he realized what was going on. Tom subdued him, and Jack silently approved. He heard Tom swear in a voice not yet as low as it would be in a year or two, “Take another step, say another word, and I will take you down, uncle.”
“Kyros, if I can control the hemorrhaging, can you do a caesarean? The baby is lodged against the pelvic bone — ” and then she and Kyros dove into medical terminology that sounded like a foreign language. They spoke in low, harried voices, their lightning-fast fingers fiddling with the equipment.
There was some confusion with the supplies. Tom had brought one thing but missed another, brought the wrong type of whatever. Cassie threw down a plastic package and cursed, “Bloody hell! Do you people not even own a pair of latex gloves?”
Kyros calmed her, and with more rushing around, they got to work. Jack held still, sorry his bulk was in the way. Finally a cold cotton pad whisked over his arm followed by Cassie’s not-so-gentle prick with the needle on the inside of his elbow. She took his other hand and ordered, Hold it in, at this angle. Don’t let the force of your pulse blow the needle out. These people already want to burn me at the stake. Cassie left him and bent over Neva. You spray this room with blood, and Hugh will lose it.
Not the time for practical jokes, got it.
Jack could finally see in grayscale, and color slowly leached back into his vision. He wished it hadn’t, because now he couldn’t look anywhere and avoid blood-soaked linen. It looked like a battlefield hospital in here.
Jack heard Kyros explaining to Hugh what was about to happen, warning him to keep cool so they could concentrate. Tom stood guard at the door, feet spread and arms crossed over his chest. The boy had grown up tonight. His jaw locked tight, Jack recognized it as an effort not to burst into tears.
Tom, you’re doing fine, lad. It’ll be over soon.
Tom startled at the intrusion then nodded at Jack. He relaxed a bit.
Kyros and Cassie called back and forth to each other, a scene full of serious terminology and quiet arguments right out of an emergency room T.V. drama. Jack concentrated on keeping the needle in his arm. He had one job, he’d better not screw it up. But Cassie wasn’t kidding, each throb of his pulse worked to eject the needle.
Neva roused, moaning and thrashing her head.
Cassie gasped in frustration. “Hugh, hold her still!”
There was a lot of shouting in frantic voices, the sound like nails on a chalkboard to his mind. Jack laid his head on the mattress. He couldn’t take much more of this. Fast forward eight months …
A gurgle, then the shrill treble cry of a baby. Shouts of joy
went up in the room.
“A fine strong lad!”
“Well done, Hugh!”
That one seemed odd.
“Gum bi a’ bheatha a’ frasadh ort, a naoinein bhig, an fhallaineachd, an ionracas, an sonas mar thiodhlacan.” A Gaelic blessing on the baby from Ben.
As far as his family was concerned: success. But Jack kept his head down; he had no business spreading fear and cowardice. He could feel Neva’s weak connection, heard every time her heart stuttered. Her thoughts grew fainter as the fight drained from her.
Once the baby was born, the rest of the surgery finished quickly. Kyros and Cassie had been silent too long. Jack hadn’t even noticed Lyssa there. When had she come in? She was a decent healer too, so between the three of them couldn’t they work a little magic? The men lifted Neva into another bed, Jack followed, taking care with the makeshift I.V.
Jack, you doing okay?
Fine.
Feeling light-headed or —
Cassie, just do your thing.
Jack drifted in a trance, loathing the slow ticking of the seconds. People moved around the room in a blur. Their words sounded underwater. He hardly noticed when he slipped into the cool relief of blackness.
• • •
“Would you quit staring at me? I’m not going to drop dead. What’s wrong with you?”
“I can’t hate you now, Sassenach. That’s what’s wrong with me.”
Cassie arched a brow and stared at Ben like he was yesterday’s fish. It would be a long four hours if it went like this. Cassie took a shift monitoring Neva’s recovery and Kyros needed Jack on patrol, so he sicced Ben on her. As if Cassie needed a guard, berserker or not. Really, if the enemy tried something, she’d fry him. No damsel in distress here.
Grandda sat in the window seat, rocking the baby and cooing in a soothing gravelly voice, ignoring the antics of his grandchildren.
“Honestly, Ben, I couldn’t care less whether you loathe or adore me.” She leaned closer for dramatic effect. “I’ve been a bitch all my life, and I kinda like it that way.”
The Valkyrie's Guardian Page 25
