Those lashes fluttered again, but she didn’t seem able to open her eyes.
“Just killed five men for you, Warrior Woman. Give me the knife and let me get to work saving your life.”
“I hear you knocking, but you can’t come in.” There was the slightest trace of amusement in her voice.
Despite the severity of her wounds and the dire situation, he found answering humor somewhere deep he hadn’t known existed in him. He was somewhat shocked that his compelling voice and the strong energy didn’t work on her. At the same time, there was satisfaction. She was the first. He was inexplicably pleased she wasn’t affected by his voice.
He reached in slowly. “Coming for the knife.”
Her body tensed, and she winced. Gasped. He took the blade from her and set it aside. “I have to know what we’re looking at here.”
“I knew it was bad, but thought I would be all right.” Her teeth bit down on her lower lip hard and then eased. “I can sometimes slow my heart. I practice. I tried to slow the flow of the bloodinternally. But a few minutes ago, the two running with me dropped me. I felt something tear. It doesn’t feel good.” Her voice was thin and weak.
Diego laid his hands over the bloody mess that was her abdomen. The bullets had done quite a bit of damage, but the jarring fall had wreaked a lot of havoc on a body already torn apart.
“I’m going to stop the bleeding, but the repairs are just temporary, like putting a Band-Aid on it. I can’t do surgery until we’re in a safe place. I can’t move you far. You won’t survive it.” He believed in being truthful.
A faint smile curved her lips. “Tired. Cold. I don’t think you have a chance saving me, and it’s all right. I’m just so tired. Go after my sister.”
“You’re not giving up, Warrior Woman.” He kept his voice low, but used a more commanding tone. Whether she responded to compulsion or not, she was trained as a soldier. She would respond to commands.
Using the kind of psychic energy it took to stop the internal bleeding was going to leave him weak. There was nothing else for it. If he didn’t get it stopped now, she didn’t have a hope in hell, and he wasn’t about to lose her.
He felt the heat welling up in him. When it happened, he was always a little shocked that he had that in him. He was cold as ice, but apparently there was a deep well of fire he could tap into.
“You’re going to feel heat. A lot of it. Stay very still.”
He directed his hands over the wound and sent healing energy into her body. Light burst under his palms, which grew hot, almost scorching. The worse the wound, the more energy demanded. He willed energy into her wound and hoped he was going about it the right way. He’d honed these particular healing skills on animals over the years, not humans. Sure, he’d gone through medical school to become a surgeon, but in their GhostWalker unit therewere several surgeons, so he rarely had to put his physical surgical skills to use on his team members. Now, however, he was grateful he knew every muscle, organ and bone in the body. Knowledge of the human body was essential when he was healing this way.
“You don’t get to give up, Leila. I know you’re tired, but you have gifts no one else in the world has, or at least very few. It doesn’t matter how you acquired them; you have them. Even without your skills, you’re unique.”
Her lips pressed together, and she gave a small shake of her head.
“I said don’t move,” he reiterated. What he was doing was going to be barely enough to sustain her until he could perform surgery on her. He tried not to think about that and what it would reveal to the world about him. He didn’t need to get ahead of himself. At the moment, his concentration had to be on the ugly wounds inside her body.
“My sister,” she whispered. “You don’t understand about her.”
“It doesn’t matter if your sister can stop the plague,” he said. “She isn’t worth more than you. I need you to fight. Make up your mind you’re going to live.”
“I was supposed to look after her,” she admitted. “They did terrible things to her.”
The hypocrisy of what he was spouting got to him. The trouble was, he believed what he was saying. This woman was unique. Gifted. The world had need of her. It didn’t matter if her sister was ten times what Warrior Woman was. Leila had her place in the world.
He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts Luther had planted, but he couldn’t very well spout off as gospel the things he was saying to her without turning the spotlight back on himself. He was a man who believed in scrutinizing all traits in himself and fixingwhatever he didn’t like if it was possible. If he couldn’t do it immediately, he worked hard to change over time.
“You aren’t responsible for anything that happened to her. We’ll find her, and we’ll get to the people who hurt her. To do that, you have to live. Stay still.”
“It burns.”
She didn’t whine. There was no whine or even pain in her tone. She’d stated a fact. He admired her all the more for that.
“I know it does. I’m sorry for that, but we have to stop this bleeding. I’ll give you a transfusion before I move you to a safer place.”
She shuddered. “You can’t move me. It hurts so bad.”
“I’ve got painkillers with me. I’ll be gentle. It will be a while before I can safely finish working on you. I have to set up a camp for us that anyone looking won’t be able to find. Healing like this wipes me out. Surgery will be worse.” He hesitated. “I don’t allow anyone to know I’m capable of psychic surgery. Not ever. I’m trusting you to keep my secrets.” He hoped she understood what he was giving to her. “Even my brother is unaware of this particular gift.”
“Healing? Why would you hide it? It’s amazing.”
