“But you take on those same injuries when you’re healing me, don’t you?” Her gaze remained steady on him. “You’re risking too much.”
“I’d risk anything to save your life, Leila.” He was absolute. Firm. Decisive. “You just relax and let me see what we’re facing.”
He had the needles in his arm and hers. He removed his boots and sat on the bed, facing her. “I’ve put everything you need, including weapons, on your side of the bed, just like last time. You have lights and anything else you might need while I’m out.”
Diego placed his palms just above her abdomen and reached for the well of healing energy inside him. The moment his hands were in place, he felt the shifting, the heating inside him. The heat imaging mapped out the bleeding and the areas where the jarring of her body had damaged those sites all over again.
There was no use wasting time on cursing. Leila had done what she had to do to stay alive. He had to do whatever was necessary to keep her alive. For him, there was no alternative.
“It’s going to get hot, to the point of being uncomfortable, sweetheart,” he warned. He despised hurting her when he knew she was already in pain. “If you pass out, it’s all to the good. Just saying I’m sorry before it gets too bad.”
Again, her eyelashes fluttered and rose, and he was looking at all that vivid green. “I’m sorry for putting you in this position. And if anything goes wrong for either of us, just know I wouldn’t trade my time with you for anything.”
Clever little demon one-upped him. He wasn’t good at the hearts-and-flowers thing. She needed him to kill a man for her, he was all over that. He could show his love for her that way, but finding the right poetic words wasn’t going to happen.
He didn’t reply, turning his focus inward, mapping out every torn and bleeding wound. He had one fleeting thought that his brother could have done a much better job, but he pushed the moment of doubt away and began to work. He was all she had, and that meant he had to be enough.
For the next two hours, he was lost in a world of blood and damaged organs, operating with skills he didn’t believe he had until he had no choice. He was meticulous about every touch of heat he applied, welding over the rips and tears until her veins and arteries were smooth and holding. Until every organ was once again functioning properly. Only then did he come back to himself, swaying, his body in agony. His insides felt as if he’d taken a blowtorch to them.
Careful not to move around too much—he feared he was now bleeding internally—he stretched out beside Leila, took a long drink of water and began the transfusion between the two of them. He closed his eyes and breathed through the pain.
How had Rubin done this over and over? Diego had watched his brother do surgery on some of the worst wounds possible, and yet he’d survived. A few times it had been close, but never once had Rubin complained. Jonquille, his wife, had once saved Rubin’s life by taking on the terrible wounds he’d suffered. He’d seen this scenario play out multiple times over the years, but he hadn’t felt what Rubin had. He’d set himself up as Rubin’s protector, not his aide, when it came to healing.
He wished he’d learned from his brother. Rubin was an incredible psychic surgeon, risking his life without hesitation to save others. Diego guarded him carefully and ensured that those aroundhim wanted to do the same. Rubin detested that he was surrounded by a unit of men willing to take a bullet for him. He would have been furious had he known Diego had added to the men’s need to protect him. He used his voice to influence subtly whenever possible. He felt he could have used Rubin’s help right at that moment. He was going down and was fairly desperate for someone to watch over Leila for him.
Rubin drove the four-wheel-drive pickup up the mountain as fast as the vehicle would allow him to travel. Using four-wheel drive slowed everything down going up the rugged terrain. He did push it to the maximum speed on any of the straighter stretches, but those were few and far between.
First, he’d gone over everything Diego had said before he left, and Rubin had gotten a bad feeling. He found Diego’s parked truck in the space below Luther’s home, where they often left a vehicle. He’d gone to check with Luther, knowing the old man would have a finger on Diego’s mental state. Instead of Luther, he found dead bodies strewn all over the vast acreage.
Going up the mountain, he stuck to the road until he saw vultures circling near the gorge. He found more dead bodies. Alarmed, he continued. There was another problem area with more bodies. It looked as if his mountain was a war zone.
Pulling the truck up to the cabin, he was instantly aware it was occupied. He’d seen the tracks of his brother running up the road. He was carrying someone. Ordinarily, his tracks were light or nonexistent. He hadn’t even tried to hide them. Instead, he ran fast, uncaring that someone might be able to track him. That was out-of-character behavior and meant someone was in need of medical assistance.
He opened the cabin door and found himself looking down thebarrel of a gun. The woman aiming the weapon at him was pale, weak and slumped in the bed beside Diego. She also wore an expression that told him she would pull the trigger if he presented a threat to them. Diego was transfusing her, but he looked out of it.
As a rule, if someone were to enter their cabin, it would be Diego guarding everyone. The fact that he’d barely stirred was more alarming than ever. Ignoring the gun aimed at him, he crossed the room to his brother’s side.
“What’s happening here, Diego?” Rubin asked, removing the needle from his brother’s arm. “There are dead bodies strewn all over the mountain. I called for cleanup, but it’s going to take a miracle.”
Diego barely opened his eyes to acknowledge he knew who was beside him. Alarm spread. There were no visible injuries on Diego, but something was really wrong.
Rubin helped Diego lie back against the pillows. “I need to look you over. Are you wounded?”
“Help Leila first.” Diego didn’t open his eyes. He knew he was in a precarious position. He’d never once indicated to Rubin that he was capable of psychic surgery. When Rubin examined Leila, he would know. “She was shot. Lost her spleen. Had to try to repair several organs, veins and an artery. She was running around today, fighting off soldiers. Ripped things open. Did the best I could for her, but she needs an expert.”
Diego didn’t want anyone else helping Leila. He wanted her to view him as the one man who would sacrifice anything for her, but the truth was, Rubin was unbelievable as a surgeon. Whether hands-on or psychic, Diego didn’t know anyone better. He had instincts that never seemed to fail. Sure hands. That well of healing in him was unbelievably strong. Diego wanted what was best for Leila, and sadly, it wasn’t him.
“I take it Leila is the name of the woman aiming a gun at me.”There was a low note of amusement in Rubin’s voice despite the situation.
“Rubin is my brother, Leila. He’s an amazing doctor. His skills as a surgeon are legendary. He’s going to examine you and fix anything I may have missed.”
Fingers stroked featherlight caresses over his hand. Tentatively. Barely there. He managed to turn his head, although it took tremendous effort. Leila lay beside him, eyes closed, breathing a little labored, but her fingers were moving over the back of his hand. He turned his hand to capture hers, threading them together, needing her touch as much as he needed Rubin to fix everything that could possibly be wrong.
You didn’t miss anything. I don’t want anyone else. You saved me the first time, and I know you did just as well this time.
They were connected so closely that it didn’t shock him that despite the fact that she wasn’t telepathic, she had found the pathway without his aid. The only problem was that pathway included Rubin.
“You performed surgery on this woman, Diego?”
