He knew the crash was coming, and it was going to be bad. Already, his vision was blurred, dark around the edges. His head pounded and his body hurt beyond belief. Still, he wasn’t finished until he gave her what she needed. He hooked himself up to an IV after he removed the equipment for the blood transfer, and then it was over.
Diego went down hard, just as he feared he would. He was thankful he hadn’t been standing. One moment he was half sitting beside her, and the next everything went black.
Leila became aware of sound first. Insects droning. She registered that was a good thing but she was disoriented and at first couldn’tfigure out why. Her head pounded and her abdomen felt on fire. She was afraid to move. Breathing hurt. She reached for the weapons Diego had promised would be close, just to reassure herself that she wouldn’t be taken a second time. She’d never felt so vulnerable.
It took another few minutes, or at least it felt that way, to pry her eyes open. Despite finding herself hooked up to a needle with what appeared to be an empty bag of fluids, her entire body felt dry, and her eyes and mouth were desperate for fluids.
She turned her head, and for one moment, her heart accelerated. She slowed the beat immediately and took in the man who had most likely saved her life. He hadn’t left her or given up. He’d treated her with respect, telling her step-by-step what he had to do. He’d left supplies and weapons for her, giving her every chance for survival.
Light filtered through the branches and brush covering the small den where they sheltered. The early morning rays fell across Diego’s face, illuminating the sharp angles and planes of his cheekbones and jaw. His face was a perfect sculpture of masculine beauty. She had never seen a man so gorgeous. Everything about his features appealed to her.But…Her heart sank. Was he breathing?
Her heart sped up in alarm, and once again, she deliberately slowed her pulse. It wouldn’t do any good to have both of them dead. She couldn’t do more than turn her head, fearing that moving around would destroy all the work Diego had done. She felt as if she’d had an operation, her insides sore, but she felt different from when she’d gone under.
The scent of blood was disturbing. She knew that many of the predators in the forest would be attracted to their shelter. Leila tightened her fingers around the gun. She would have to be ready to defend them. First, though, she had to determine if Diego was alive.
His body lay very close to hers. Thighs touching. She began to feel around for his arm or hand. She had to stay very still, that was what he’d said, but she was uncomfortable. Her clothes were a mess and felt sticky against her skin. That wasn’t the only problem. She couldn’t get up to use the bathroom, not that there was one. Diego hadn’t thought of that. Or had he? She hadn’t looked around for a bucket. He said he’d put everything she needed within her reach so she wouldn’t have to move. She wasn’t wearing her trousers, just her bloodstained, very tattered shirt. He’d had to take off her trousers and underwear to operate on her.
She lay there unmoving, feeling exhausted, scared, with tears leaking out of her eyes. It took several more minutes to get the courage to continue exploring for Diego’s arm. She didn’t dare try to turn on her side to face him. She wasn’t even certain she could. Finally, after moving her palm along his thigh, up his hip and rib cage, she brushed his arm with her fingers. One arm was down along his side.
Leila traced a path to his wrist and settled her fingers over his pulse. She found herself holding her breath. Waiting. He had to be alive. It was as necessary as her next breath. For a moment, she couldn’t see or hear anything but her own wild heartbeat thudding in reaction. Then she felt it: a faint, fluttery beat that sent her emotions soaring. The relief was overwhelming.
His wrist and that heartbeat acted like some kind of a security blanket for her. She lay there beside him, just breathing, grateful that he was alive. She was more grateful for his life than her own. It took another few minutes before she began searching with her other hand for anything he may have left to aid her in relieving herself. She didn’t want to ruin the makeshift bed she was on, and she was becoming a little desperate.
Her fingers touched something soft and round, and she dragged it onto her chest. The roll of toilet paper made her smile. Of coursehe would be traveling with toilet paper. He seemed to have a magical pack with everything she needed. The next thing she found was a lightweight plastic rectangular container she could slide under her. It wasn’t easy, and she hurt like hell, but she managed to lift her hips just enough to get the shallow basin beneath her. Relief was tremendous. Even overwhelming. She could feel tears on her face.
Leila wasn’t a crier. She had always been stoic, refusing to allow anyone to see what she was feeling. Once she started, she was unable to turn off the faucet, especially when she realized it wouldn’t be as easy to remove the container as it was to slide it under her. She had to worry about spilling. It took effort and pain to manage, but she was able. Exhausted, she fell asleep with tears still running down her face.
Leila woke hours or days later, she didn’t know which and didn’t care. She didn’t especially want to be awake. Night in the forest was spooky. She had no idea why. She’d spent hundreds of hours training in forests. This one felt different—ancient. Eerie. Each time she heard movement outside the shelter, she half expected some mythical, monstrous creature to stick its head inside and confront her with a mouthful of teeth and glowing eyes. The gun in her hand and holding on to Diego’s wrist, feeling his heartbeat, kept her wild imagination from conjuring up every creature she’d read about that was supposed to occupy the Appalachians.
“Smoke wolf,” she murmured aloud. She’d read he was a red-eyed, enormous fierce predator rarely seen. He would eat any livestock, wildlife or human, he encountered.
“Aw, the smoke wolf. You need to rattle chains to deter him.”
Her heart stuttered. She turned her head to look at Diego. He hadn’t moved.
“You do? Chains?”
“Yep. He’s called a smoke wolf because he can shift into a cloud of smoke. You can see why he’s not been tracked far or caught.”
The amusement in his voice charmed her. She really liked the sound of his voice. She told herself it was because he had saved her, but she knew it was far more than that.
“I would be more concerned about the raven mocker finding us,” he continued. This time the note of amusement seemed to stroke over her skin like healing fingers. “He hunts the sick and dying at night.”
“That’s just great,” she played along, wanting to keep him talking. “What does he look like?”
“Very large, raven feathers and sharp wicked beak. It would drain our life force, and that allows him to extend his life.”
She gripped his wrist tighter. “Well, at least we’d go together. What else could be out there?”
“Warrior Woman, we’ve got bigfoot, but he might be likely to help us, so we’ll discount having to protect ourselves from him. These mountains have many scary creatures. There’s the massive silver giant with his fur-covered body and glowing eyes.”
“Glowing eyes seem to be a common theme in these mountains.”
The briefest of smiles curved his lips and made her heart stutter. He really was a stunningly gorgeous man.
“The giant is about ten feet high and weighs in around five hundred pounds, but he’s agile and said to be very fast. I, personally, have never encountered him but have met a few who glimpsed him. They said just seeing him foreshadowed tragedy. He eats wildlife, livestock and humans.”
“So, a lovely fellow. He wouldn’t be likely to help us.”
