“All I know is that she has a dark spot—our doctors called it a mass—inside her brain. Some kind of tumor. I’m not a doctor. You are. You figure it out.”
A mass? Alisa? Braden’s heart stopped for a moment. Then, pushing himself into professional mode, he swallowed. “Did a Pack medical professional view the image, or is this just some local family practioner saying this?”
Coughing, Rok made a great fanfare out of chugging down some sort of drink and then clearing his throat. “We had a local doctor look at it. He’s not Pack, but he is a doctor.”
“You know our brains look different than those of humans.”
“True, but not that different. If you could see the image, you’d know what I mean. Anyway, the doctor said it looked like a brain tumor to him. He advised us to get her to the hospital as soon as possible.”
The MRI had been done weeks ago. Still, no reason to panic. He knew this better than most.
“There are over one hundred and twenty different types of brain tumors,” Braden said coldly. “Many of those are not fatal and can be surgically removed. If this ‘mass,’ as you call it, even is a brain tumor, the location is of paramount importance. Regardless, it’s highly unlikely a brain tumor would give Alisa—Princess Alisa—the ability to remain human longer than most. If anything, a large brain tumor would take away abilities rather than give them.”
“Whatever.” Rok sounded supremely unconcerned. “Our doctor seemed to think the prognosis was very bad. He specifically said that without surgery, she would die.”
Damn. Suppressing the flash of panic, Braden straightened his shoulders. “Is he a neurosurgeon, then?”
“Like you?” Rok mocked. “No, he is not.”
“Then there is no way for him to make such a determination.” Braden suppressed his relief. “Many more tests would be necessary.”
“Hmmm.” Rock delivered his final comment. “Odd, then. Why don’t you see if your machine agrees with him.”
“I will.” Braden trusted his machine. He’d designed the program himself. Still, even if she did have a brain tumor, this was not as worrisome as it would have been if she were human or Halfling. Since Alisa was a full-blooded shifter, she’d be all right. While tumors and cancer did occur among shifters, due to a full-blood’s accelerated healing powers, such ailments were never fatal to them.
Halflings, on the other hand…
“Either way, fatal or not,” Rok continued, almost as if he’d read Braden’s mind, “the tumor itself is not that important to us. All we want to know is if that tumor has messed with her brain to the point where she can stay human longer. If it has, our scientists will try to figure out if the effect can be replicated artificially.”
“Replicated? And endanger people’s lives? Why? I thought you people were against the whole thing.”
“We are against this, in the hands of others. But knowledge is power. Whoever controls that knowledge will have all the power.” Rok laughed. “And we want that control.”
About to speak, Braden inhaled sharply as the blackness lightened and a blurry image of a man—Rok—danced into focus before fading away. Gray to black. A fuzzy sort of light tantalized the edges of his vision before darkening to the complete and utter absence of the same.
He stood still for a moment, almost unable to believe it. Finally! These spells had been happening with much more frequency now, giving him tantalizing glimpses of restored vision. Which meant that regaining his sight was actually possible, though Rok didn’t need to know that. He—as well as Alisa—were safer if Braden remained a blind man.
Hopefully, very soon, he would be able to see. Very, very soon. Before these crazy people had a chance to kill him and the woman he…
The woman he—what? Braden winced. No need to go there, not right now when the last thing he needed was any kind of distraction.
“Lead me to my machines,” he said. “And if you want me to continue to research this, I’ll need the princess as well. I’ll need to rerun some of the tests, so I can check the accuracy of the results.”
“I will think about that,” Rok replied. “For now, you work alone.”
“I won’t get results as quickly.”
“Twenty-four hours,” Rok reminded him. “That’s all you get.”
And there it was.
Though he nodded, Braden knew that even if he did find something, he wouldn’t reveal it to this man. And he’d continue to insist that he needed Alisa, just to keep her close in case a way opened up for them to escape.
He followed slowly as Rok took him to his machines.
“They have been loaded with the correct test results,” the other man said, handing him his earphones.
“What if I need more time?” Braden asked.
“Work through the night.”
As if he wouldn’t already. Still, he had to do something to buy more time. “Seriously, I need—”
“Tick, tock.” Rok laughed. And with that, he left, closing the door behind him. A second later, Braden heard the latch turn and click, locking him in.
With a great sense of dread, he took a seat in front of his custom-designed diagnostic machine. Since Rok claimed they’d already entered in the actual data, he grabbed the remote and pressed the large play button.
A moment later, the robotic voice began to speak, confirming what Rok had told him.
Alisa had a primary brain tumor, very large in size, most likely a glioblastoma. These were very aggressive tumors that grew rapidly and tended to spread. Despite her full-shifter blood, she’d probably need to have surgery to have this tumor removed. Since she was full-blooded, it wouldn’t kill her. But it could and would cause her major issues until her body overcame it. He couldn’t help but wonder if this, rather than her strong will, was responsible for her extraordinary ability to remain human longer. Either way, the tumor had to go.
There was no one among the Pack better qualified to remove a glioblastoma of this size than him. Except for one huge problem. Unless he regained his sight, his blindness would prevent him from being able to operate.
His only other option would be to escape and bring her to Texas to see the Healer.
Chapter 18
A gloating Katya locked her in a small, windowless room that Alisa suspected might have once been a storage closet, and left. Feeling as though her breath had been cut off, Alisa began to pace. Not only did she hate being confined to small spaces, but being separated from Braden felt oddly akin to the sensation of missing a limb.
This was new and wasn’t good. Despite making love, Braden still had not mentioned feeling connected to her in the way mates were. If he didn’t…she’d have no choice but to learn to live without him. And if this awful, yearning ache was any indication, she’d be finding life after Braden unbearable, to say the least.
Assuming, that is, she lived that long. She didn’t understand why the extremists had separated them to begin with. Actually, since they plainly viewed her as some sort of deviant, she wondered why they hadn’t simply killed her on the spot.
Perhaps they realized the repercussions from her father and his allies would be too fierce. But they had to know also when her family realized she and Braden had been abducted, no stone would be left unturned as they searched for her. Maybe they intended to ransom her.
Pacing, she took a second look at her cell. Whatever the space’s original purpose, no one had bothered to paint the gray cement walls or floor. Cold, damp and musty. This place looked like either a basement or a storm cellar. Either way, she saw no way to escape.
At least her prison cell had a small lavatory, complete with a sink and a commode. Every comfort of home, she told herself, furious at the knowledge that she was helpless, completely at their mercy.
While Braden… As she dropped onto the thin cot that comprised her bed, fear and anger knotted inside her. Were they torturing him at this very moment, seeking to pry information from him that didn’t yet exist? Though she hated to think so, she had
to be realistic. Otherwise, why would they have taken him?
Swallowing, she couldn’t help but feel that this was all her fault. If only she could have been normal, at least on the surface. Such a thing would have been very easy to do. Just shape-shift at regular intervals and keep her mouth shut. No one would have been any wiser. Instead, she’d become a sort of minor celebrity among the Pack. The girl who wouldn’t change.
She couldn’t remake the past, but she sure as heck could try to influence the future. She’d have to watch, be vigilant, get ready to take a chance. As a royal, she had never lifted a hand to anyone or anything. These people wouldn’t expect her to fight back. When the opportunity came, and she had to believe it would, she’d take it. For Braden, if not anything else. She couldn’t let him pay for her imagined sins.
Though he didn’t know it yet, every part of her belonged to Braden. Her heart, her body and her mind. As well as her wolf. Despite the apparent fact that he didn’t feel the same, she believed he was her mate. Wolves mate once. When their mate dies, they remain alone for the rest of their lives.
And now, more than anything, more than she’d ever been in her entire life, Alisa was wolf.
Finally, from sheer exhaustion and lack of anything else to do, Alisa curled up on the cot and willed herself to go to sleep. Maybe then she could quiet the ever-present dull ache in the back of her head.
* * *
Trying to accustom himself to the knowledge that he would need to magically recover his sight so he could perform brain surgery on Alisa, Braden felt surprisingly numb. After all, he knew for a fact that miracles didn’t happen. Though she wouldn’t die, the tumor would begin to exact its toll on her in other ways. In time, she’d be little more than a vegetable, trapped inside a useless body.
He’d do better trying to figure out a way to get her out of here and take her to see the Pack Healer.
But to keep Rok from killing them both, he listened to all the data for the second time, and thought logically about the possibility that the tumor’s location had some effect on Alisa’s ability to remain human.
This was entirely possible. Tumors sometimes gave as well as took away.
He had to convince Rok to let him see Alisa. He’d never been a good liar, but he’d have to become one now. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been given any way to communicate with the other man.
Lurching to his feet, he headed toward the wall, knowing if he felt along it far enough, he’d reach the door. Once he had, he began banging on it with his fists, hoping the noise would bring Rok running.
After a moment, his strategy worked. Rok banged back. Braden backed away. He heard the key turning the lock and then his captor entered the room.
“Do you have my answer already?”
Taking a deep breath, Braden shook his head. “No. There’s an…anomaly in the test results. I need you to bring Alisa and let me rerun the tests on her.”
“Absolutely not.” Rok didn’t even hesitate. “You’ve done every test possible. You should have more than enough to form an opinion.”
“That’s just it. You say you switched the results, but now you’ve replaced them. I performed two sets of tests—one on Alisa and one on me. I wanted to use my results as a measure against hers, especially the CT scan.”
“So?” Rok sounded patently disinterested. “What do I care about your test results? It’s the princess’s we are interested in.”
Dragging his hand through his hair, Braden forced himself to unclench his teeth and speak calmly. “The thing is, both Alisa’s and my results are exactly the same.”
“That’s not possible,” Rok responded immediately.
“I know it’s not,” Braden replied. “Something got screwed up and now these CT scans are both invalid. I can’t consider either of these to be remotely accurate.”
“We don’t have a CT scanner here.” Rok sounded irritated. “You can do the blood work, but not that.”
“No go. I need to redo those tests in particular.”
Rok didn’t respond. Braden waited him out. As lies went, this was a doozy.
“That couldn’t be safe,” Rok finally said, as if he cared. “Too much radiation.”
“It is safe. It’s been a few weeks.” He took a deep breath. “Without this, I won’t be able to reach any sort of valid conclusion. We see a brain tumor, yes. The CT scan is the preferred modality for cancer, pneumonia and brain tumors. I need this. On both of us.”
“I’ll get back to you,” Rok said. A moment later the lock clicked behind him.
Braden could only hope his strategy would work. If he could get them both out of their prison, they might stand a chance of escaping.
An hour later, he heard the key in the lock, and the door opened.
The instant Alisa entered the room, Braden knew. His skin tingled and his entire body felt as though he had come alive after a long, numb sleep. Though it cost him, he forced himself to continue checking and rechecking the calibration on his machine without acknowledging her presence.
“We’re going to the local hospital north of here,” Rok said. “This is the closest place with a CT scanner. The hospital staff has been told that both of you are dangerous prisoners who must be kept shackled at all times.”
“Fine,” Braden said. “But take care how you treat the princess.”
“Ah, yes, the princess.” Now Katya spoke. “Rok, I’m worried that someone might recognize her. Therefore, we will be cutting her hair before we go.”
Alisa made a small sound of protest. Not much. Braden figured she knew she didn’t have a choice.
“Wouldn’t it be easier just to make her wear a wig?” he asked, trying to spare her at least this indignity. “When we came here, she wore a wig as part of her disguise. Just let her use that.”
“That won’t work,” Katya answered, her voice dripping malice. “The brain scan will reveal it. So it’s a cut for her.”
“Who cares?” Alisa put in. “So what if I’m wearing a wig? Lots of women do.”
But Katya refused to be dissuaded, most likely because it would give her great pleasure to make the princess look as awful as possible.
Braden listened while they cut her hair, the few snips of the scissors no doubt radically altering her appearance, at least to those with eyes to see her.
Pretending not to care, he pushed his dark glasses up on his face. They’d allowed him to keep these with him, knowing a blind man was much too noticeable.
“Now no one will recognize you.” Katya sounded triumphant and gleeful. “Amazing what a bad haircut can do to a woman.”
“Yes,” Rok agreed. “She looks awful, not at all like a princess. Good job, Katya.”
Alisa’s audible sniff told him how much this forced transformation pained her, though she didn’t articulate her feelings out loud.
“You still look the same to me,” he told her quietly when she came to stand near him.
To his gratification, she squeezed his shoulder. “Thank you.”
On the ride to the hospital, they sat hip to hip. He had to continually remind himself not to lean into her.
“What’s going on?” she asked quietly.
Aware they had an audience, he spoke in a low voice. “We need to rerun the CT scan,” he told her. “On both of us.”
“I don’t understand. Why would—?”
“Silence,” Rok ordered. “Don’t make me separate you.”
They fell silent. Braden kept his shoulder right up next to hers, hoping she drew some comfort from it.
Once they reached the medical facility, Rok made quick work of shuffling them in, surrounded by guards. “Dangerous prisoners,” he repeated over and over.
Of course they were immediately rushed through and put in a separate waiting room. The staff, egged on by Rok, hurried them through the CT scans. Once that was over, Rok began to argue with the technicians who, according to Alisa, wanted to follow protocol and have the results read by their own staff doctor.
Best as Braden could make out, since he didn’t understand the rapid-fire dialogue in Teslinkian, the staff adamantly refused to do as Rok wished.
Persistently, Rok continued to try and convince them to let him take the results back with him. They steadfastly refused, exactly as Braden had hoped they would. He knew the instant that they saw the huge and lethal brain tumor on Alisa’s brain, they’d want her admitted to the hospital stat.
A full-blooded shifter could still function normally with a tumor of this size. A human should already be dead. As far as these medical professionals knew, Alisa was human. They had a duty to try and make her final hours or minutes pain-free.
And if he was correct, he had a pretty good idea how Rok and his goons would react to that.
Now would be their best chance to either escape or summon help. He just had to find a way.
While he waited, hands cuffed behind his back, side by side with a shackled Alisa, Braden leaned over and, in a whisper, asked her if there were any phones in the room. Getting to a wall phone would be tricky, but it was better than nothing.
“No,” she whispered back. “Though someone left a cell phone on the counter in the small washroom. The door’s open and I can see inside. Since there are huge signs stating all phones must be turned off, I’m betting that one is.”
Rok and the CT technician were still arguing. Rok grew louder and more impatient. At any moment, Braden thought he might blow.
“We’ve got to get you in there,” Braden told her. “If you can grab the phone, do so. If you have the opportunity, call for help. If not, pocket it.”
“Very good, but how am I to get in there?”
“Faint or something. Say your head hurts and act like you need to vomit.” Which would be more appropriate than she knew.
Without hesitation, she immediately cried out and doubled over. “My head hurts,” she moaned. A second later, she began making very realistic retching sounds.
The Wolf Princess: The Wolf PrincessOne Eye Open (The Pack) Page 22
