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Holocaust (The Deadwood Hunter Series Book 3)

Page 23

by Raithby, Rachel M


  “I don’t understand,” Caden muttered, hands pressing down over his chest, down his stomach, “Internal?” he carried on to himself.

  Internal…

  The pain increased like a hot poker to his heart, searing his insides. Like molten lava, his blood pulsed through him causing wave after wave of pain.

  Lexia…

  Internal, the pain was internal, not Lincoln’s organs, not his injuries, hers. She was alive.

  Blocking the pain coming through the mating bond as best as he could, Lincoln pushed himself up. Hand digging into his friend’s shoulder, he forced Caden to look into his eyes.

  “She’s alive,” he rasped out. Voice like gravel, his throat dried and coated in dust.

  Lexia was alive, and with each pulse of burning pain, he knew she felt it too. She was alive, trapped beneath them, entombed, buried alive.

  “Alive?” Caden whispered, shaking his head at the unbelievable statement.

  Lincoln, no longer there to answer Caden, forced his body to shift. The damage by the blast made the change into his animal form a painful process, but at this point, Lincoln wasn’t sure it was possible to feel anymore.

  Following an age-old instinct, which was one of the greatest gifts to the shifter race, Lincoln moved unsteadily across the earth. Shifting when the pull became strongest, he dropped to his knees, hands digging through the rubble. He didn’t feel the skin rubbed from his fingers, or the hot earth sizzling his flesh. He dug mindlessly, crazed with the pain he felt and knew she did too.

  He heard voices, questions, but none of them mattered, only finding her mattered. Joined by others, he saw no faces, but hands – strong hands willing to burn and break just as his were as they sifted through the debris.

  “Quiet,” someone yelled.

  Lincoln looked up, blinking to clear the fog in his mind. He focused on the face looking at him – the male hunter.

  “Do you hear that?” the male hunter asked Lincoln.

  Frowning, Lincoln shut out the buzzing inside his skull to concentrate on the noises around him. “A baby?” he whispered looking at the male. “Is that a baby?”

  “Did he just say baby, Marcus?”

  “Yes,” Marcus confirmed. Bending, he carried on digging with renewed effort.

  Feeling a pressure on his shoulder, Lincoln looked up dazed. Caden. “We are going to find her, Linc. She’s strong. We’ll find her.”

  What seemed like an eternity, yet in reality bare minutes, Lincoln’s hands touched warm, living skin. The instant his hand made contact, he felt the pull of the bond between them. Reunited at last, he felt it tighten ever stronger, refusing to let her go.

  Carefully, they cleared away enough debris to lift Lexia without causing more damage. She was curled tightly into a ball, her arms locked like steel around her middle. Her skin peeled away beneath his fingers. Clothes burnt and torn, they didn’t cover much of her body anymore. The smell of burnt flesh coated his tongue. It was thick and ugly, making him gag on the bile rising in his throat.

  As she emerged into the daylight, Lincoln saw the extent of the damage. Her skin burned and charred, thick waxy yellow patches covered the length of her back. Afraid to hurt her further, Lincoln froze with her in his lap, not sure where to put his hands.

  “She’s unlikely to feel much pain, Linc. The burn is so deep, her nerves will be damaged,” Caden told him. Reaching out, Caden pulled the sword from her back and helped him to turn her over.

  Turned over, cradled in Lincoln’s lap, they attempted to uncurl her when they heard the shrill cry of the baby. There were no words to explain the shock he felt as he pried Lexia’s arms off the baby. Only looking at her briefly before someone reached out for the little pink bundle, he didn’t have time to consider how she’d found a baby. Or had? The lingering scent of the child on his hands smelt of Lexia, yet…different.

  “She needs immediate medical care – care I can’t even attempt to give her here,” Caden said as he looked up from his assessment.

  Lincoln feeling lost, unsure what to do, just stared at the woman in his arms. The underside of her had taken less damage, but her back, shoulders, and top of her head were burned beyond recognition. What little hair she had left was shriveled and limp. The sword she’d worn strapped in a scabbard across her back had become so hot, it had burned its mark into her flesh.

  “We need to get her off her back. Find some kind of board to lay her on so she can be carried without causing more damage to the skin. Anyone have a first-aid kit? Fluids. She needs fluids right away. The chopper will be the quickest way to get her out.” Caden barked off his orders to the people stood around them. His ability to think past blinding fear was what made him such a good doctor.

  “Belinda, tell Sarah we need the chopper,” Marcus instructed as he climbed out of the hole he’d helped dig Lexia from.

  “Wait, Marcus. Derrick, is he down there? He was with her. He would never have left her alone.”

  Hesitating, Marcus slipped back into the hole he’d been climbing out of. “Derrick?” he called. “Does anyone have a flashlight?” he asked, looking up.

  “I’ll go check” Belinda answered, rushing off.

  “You think he’s really down there?” Lincoln asked Marcus, still not sure what to make of the hunter male.

  Marcus looked up at Lincoln though his hands never stopped digging. “He refused to leave her alone with Lucy. That’s why he never came out with Alice. He’d have never left her.”

  At that instant, someone appeared with a plank of wood, large enough for Lexia to lay on and be moved. As they moved her, she whimpered, the sound broken and pained. Eyes drifting open, she stared but didn’t seem to be there, her expression blank and dazed.

  Marcus started to scramble up the sides of the hole they’d made as she mumbled incoherent words. “Boss, where’s Derrick? Was he with you? Boss? Lexia?”

  Her eyes opened again. Though focused on nothing, she managed to rasp one word. “Dead.”

  A choking, rasping cough escaped her as her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

  “Caden,” Lincoln pleaded, his tone desperate and worried.

  “We need to move, now,” Caden snapped, nodding for Lincoln to lift one end of the board as he lifted the front.

  Quickly, they moved across the battlefield as billows of smoke still whispered into the sky. The dead lay scattered where they’d fallen. Lincoln saw only the chopper though. His sole focus on getting his mate away from this horror. Reaching the helicopter, they found Belinda pleading with whom Lincoln presumed must be Sarah.

  “She’ll die.” Lincoln heard as he neared.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t have the authority,” the woman continued, glancing nervously at the man stood nearby. His clean suit indicated he’d done nothing since arriving. “There is help on its way though. As soon as the trucks arrive, we’ll have her taken straight to a secure facility.”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Lincoln growled, ready to destroy anyone in his way.

  “I’ve got this,” Marcus said, running ahead.

  Belinda looked at him as he approached, a silent message being passed between them. She still held the baby Lincoln had pried from Lexia, jiggling her gently in her arms. She’d been wrapped in what looked like a combat coat and appeared to be asleep.

  Lincoln and Caden carried on past them, straight into the helicopter. A savage very un-human growl left Lincoln’s throat as the two military men moved to stop them.

  “Stop, stop. You are not authorized to use this,” said the pompous man in the suit.

  “She needs a hospital,” Sarah implored.

  “I’m not waiting in this, this…place. As soon as the others arrive, I’ll be using that chopper to leave,” he snapped.

  Marcus appeared, holding a hunter, a knife to his throat. “Lexia warned you what would happen, Sarah.”

  “No, no wait. I held up my end. I’m here. I’ve made the cure. Please, not my son, not Zac. He’s all I have
left,” Sarah begged, stepping forward.

  Marcus tightened his grip, pressing the knife just enough to draw blood. “Her words were ‘don’t let me down.’ I’d think dying would be letting her down.”

  “I don’t have the authority,” she answered desperately.

  Pulling a gun from his holster, Marcus moved in a blur, shoving the hunter in his hold to the ground. He trained his gun and fired.

  “No,” Sarah screamed, falling toward her son.

  It wasn’t Zac who Marcus shot though. Slumping to the floor, a bullet clean through his head, the human in the suit met dirt.

  “What did you do?” Sarah gasped.

  “I got rid of the authority. Now make the call and get Lexia the best care available.”

  Pulling her cell out of her pocket, she held a shaking hand to her ear and two minutes later, Lincoln took off in the helicopter. The baby asleep in his arms, he sat close to Lexia as he held onto the love between them, willing her to live.

  Chapter 37

  Twelve hours later and Lincoln paced the room, the baby in his arms finally asleep after hours of constant crying. He rocked her gently as his eyes stayed glued on Lexia. Having finally being stable enough to move, Lexia now lay inside a military facility, a place where no questions would be asked. Her heart had stopped a number of times over the past twelve hours, machines blaring as doctors rushed around trying to keep her alive. Lincoln felt as if he had an iron fist wrapped around his heart, and every time a machine wailed, the fist clenched tighter. He wondered if he’d ever feel sane again, whether he’d ever be able to take a full breath.

  She’d had most of the damaged skin and debris removed from her body. The yellow waxy patches gone, her skin colored a deep pink, with marks of black. Right now though, with a white sheet pulled up to her chin, he could almost imagine she only slept, if he could forget the breathing tube down her throat and the constant noise of the machine filling her lungs.

  “Lincoln,” Sarah called quietly, opening the door.

  Glancing at Lexia, he reluctantly walked toward the door.

  “Sorry, I’ve not come sooner. I wanted to oversee every administration of the cure.”

  “It’s working?” Lincoln asked, his mind going to Alice and then realizing he had no idea where she was. He felt a renewed wave of panic. “Alice?”

  “She’s fine. Don’t worry. Marcus won’t release my son until Lexia wakes and she gives them the order. If there is one hunter I will be making sure survives this, it is Lexia’s best friend.”

  Not sure how to answer, he remained quiet. The idea of Lexia having men and women waiting for her command was a little surreal and hard to imagine. It was daunting how much she’d changed and grown away from him, and if he was honest, it scared him. Will she even need me anymore?

  “They are coming to take her tracheotomy tube shortly. With her rapid healing, I’m certain she’ll be able to breathe on her own,” Sarah continued, unaware of Lincoln’s growing unease. “I wanted to take the baby,” Sarah said, peering at the girl asleep in his arms.

  On instinct Lincoln moved the baby from her view.

  “Oh, no, sorry that came out wrong. I just want to check she’s okay. Being buried alive, even protected by Lexia, may have caused damage.”

  “She’s been fine. Caden treated her minor burns.”

  “Oh, well, it’s just children can appear fine at first. Has she been settled all this time?”

  Lincoln stared at Sarah, trying to decipher if she could be trusted. “She has been upset, but has settled now. I’ll come with you. Best to have her double checked.”

  Sarah smiled, her eyes then landing on Lexia. “Will you not want to be here when they bring her out the coma and take her offthe intubation?”

  “Oh, I…”“Here,” Sarah said, gently lifting the baby from him, “we’ll just be next door. I’ll call if we need you. Oh, look, here they are to bring her back. If you’re lucky, she’ll wake soon.”

  Torn between staying with Lexia and the baby, Lincoln glanced at the sleeping baby. “You’re just checking her over in that room?” he confirmed, pointing to the room next door.

  “Yes, Lincoln, I’ll take good care of her,” Sarah replied, walking from the room with the baby.

  Drawn away as the breathing machine was switched off, his heart squeezed tighter. Lincoln stood ridged, not evening daring to breathe as he watched Lexia’s chest remain still. He didn’t release the breath he was holding until her chest rose. Sucking in the much-needed oxygen, he watched her take another small breath.

  “This is good,” the nurse said to him, her smile kind. “She’s quite remarkable.”

  “Yes, she is,” Lincoln murmured, taking a tentative step toward Lexia.

  “She should wake soon. When she does, press the red button. We’ll be in to check over her then.”

  Thanking the nurse, Lincoln closed the distance between them in one large step. Gently holding her hand, he stared at her face. She had one burn mark that wrapped around her neck and up over one cheek, but it wasn’t as severe as the other burns; he could already see it had started to heal.

  Out of nowhere, her eyes shot open. Gasping in a loud raspy breath, she screamed.

  “Lex, Lex, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

  Her eyes wild with fear locked with his and for a spilt second she relaxed, her hand gripping his, the smallest of smiles pulling at the corner of her lips. “Lincoln,” she breathed.

  Before he’d opened his mouth in reply, her eyes scanned the room. “Where is she?” Lexia screamed, the whites of her eyes huge. “Where is she?”

  “Who, Lex? Calm down. It’s okay.”

  The doors swung opened that second and Lexia went hysterical. Thrashing, she knocked the doctor out of the way, her screams terrified, frantic.

  “Where is Lola?” she yelled again, her eyes locking with Lincoln’s. “Where is she?”

  Lola? “Who’s Lola?” Lincoln asked, the name renewing the pain of his parents’ deaths.

  The nurse pushed a needle into Lexia’s arm. Lexia threw her with such force across the room, the woman hit the wall, sliding down. She didn’t get back up.

  The sedative had already started to take effect. Her eyes struggled to stay focused. Lincoln had never felt so helpless in his life. Dragging in a deep breath, Lexia forced her arm to move out. She grasped Lincoln, her voice strained and forced. “The baby…my baby…”

  “You named her Lola?”

  Slumping back, the drugs pulling her under, she smiled sadly, nodding.

  “She’s fine, Lex. Sarah has her. Sleep.”

  His words though only caused more worry. “No,” she gasped, her eyes wild. “Different, Lo…” her words trailed off as she was pulled under, leaving Lincoln staring in shock.

  Her words made sense as his keen hearing picked up Lola’s cry. Out of the room in seconds, he was met by two men guarding the door, their guns pointed at him. Not giving them a chance to speak, his claws slit through his fingers. Slashing the first across the chest, the other fired, clipping his arm with a bullet. Growling, his arm swung out, connecting with the man’s nose, sending him unconscious to the floor.

  Bursting through the door, Lincoln assessed his next move. Taking out the two guards who rushed him, he strode forward, one hand steadying the wiggling screeching baby on the table, the other slamming into Sarah’s chest, sending her sprawling – all of which took mere seconds. The leash on his beast all but slipped, the fragile hold on his human form just gripping onto his skin. Voice rough with the edge of his panther’s growl, Lincoln said, “You will not be touching her again.”

  “You don’t understand, Lincoln, I was just trying to help.”

  “How is this helping? She’s just a baby.” Forcing his claws to retract, Lincoln gently took the needle from her arm. Scooping Lola up with one hand, he picked the vials of blood up with the other.

  Walking to the sink, he smashed them against the ceramic bowl, before watching the water turn murky p
ink as it washed the blood away.

  “She’s not Lexia’s. She’s Lucy’s. Lucy created her. Even if she’s been made from bits of Lexia, there is no telling what she will become.” Sarah pleaded with Lincoln, hoping he would understand.

  “Lucy created Lexia. Not all born from evil are destined to be so.” Rocking Lola in his arms, he glanced down at her, then back at Sarah. “This baby is Lexia’s. I see it in her eyes and I smell it in her scent. It is her choice as to whether we’ll explore her origins, not yours.”

  Walking from the room, Lincoln found his way blocked. Six men, dressed in black combat gear, looked through their scopes, guns trained at him.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Sarah said from behind, standing in the doorway. “You are in a government facility. Most of the armed men and women in here are special ops. All I want are a few samples. I have no intention of taking the baby. Are you really willing to expose what you are over a few blood samples?”

  Words hard to hear over the rumble of his beast, Lincoln looked at Sarah, the gleam in his eyes pure ruthless cat. “You have no idea what I’m willing to do.”

  “You’re right. I don’t, but I’d love to hear how you plan to get both your mate and her baby out of here? You are all alone, Lincoln.”

  She was right. Caden had gone to check in with Grey; make sure all the injured shifters were recovering, the dead taken care of. The hunters he’d left back on the battle field, presumably they were all being cured. Lincoln was alone, facing six men with guns and God knows how many more lay within the building. Yet as he stood staring at the impossible situation, he could hear Lexia in his mind. She’d tell him to run, to fight, to save her baby and leave her behind.

  Pressing Lola securely against his chest, his free hand curled with deadly claws ready to strike. The first two fell without their fingers touching the trigger. Claws sharp and lethal across their throats, their blood sprayed hot and red against the white walls.

  A bullet tore through the muscled flesh covering his shoulder. Burning as it ripped through him, Lincoln gritted his teeth and pushed on.

 

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