Page 26 of Damien’s Mate

“Absolutely not.”

Her knees buckled and she began slowly sliding to the ground. With a muffled curse, Damien got behind her and managed to ease her down. “What the fuck is even wrong with you?” he demanded. “You got hit by a fucking car, for fuck’s sake.”

“I have shifter healing.” She leaned against the running board. “And I had steak. I’m fine. I just need a tiny bit of help.”

Damien stood looking down at her, hands on his hips. “You are the most stubborn, delusional—you are not fine.” He enumerated her injuries on his fingers. “You have broken ribs. A broken pelvis. A cracked femur. And internal injuries. You’re probably bleeding out into your abdominal cavity as we speak.”

“I am not.” She looked down at her stomach, which actually was a little distended. “That belly is just all the steak I ate.”

Yeah, probably. But what if it wasn’t? “I’m taking you inside,” he informed her. “If you fight me, I’m going to smother you with a pillow until you pass out, and I’m still going to take you in.”

She glared at him. “You don’t understand. This—” she held up her wrist— “is a mission I’ve been on since I was six years old. It was my father’s mission, and now it’s mine. And nothing but death stops a Guard soldier from their mission. If you can’t march, you walk. If you can’t walk, you crawl. If you can’t crawl…”

“You drive?”

She didn’t smile. Instead, her voice got very quiet. “You get someone to carry you.”

Her tone hit something deep inside him. He’d never believed in anything as much as that. This mission—whatever it was—really did mean everything to her.

He gave a deep sigh, and squatted down beside her. “Look. I don’t know shit about this mission, and I’m pretty sure you’re not going to tell me. And if telling me means you have to bite my head off—literally—then don’t.”

He took her hand. “But all soldiers need rest if they’re going to keep fighting. And if this mission has been going on for twenty years, will another day really make that much difference?”

“Only to me.” She wasn’t looking at him—she was looking off into the distance. Remembering her father, maybe?

It must be nice to have a father you admired so much you’d give your life to finish what he started.

He said, “I’ll make you a deal.”

She gave a little snort. “Sure. Look how the last one turned out. Seedy motel, no Netflix.”

At least she was teasing him again. That was a good sign.

“Don’t worry, the fancy hotel’s still on the table.” He sat down on the ground so they’d be on equal footing. “How about, you let me take you back into the motel room. You get some sleep, I get some sleep, you heal some more, and then tomorrow I take you back to your safe house and make sure you get to do whatever it is you need to do there. Then, if you want, we can still do the fancy hotel.”

She looked away, not answering, and something inside him went a little colder. Once she was back on her mission, she was gone.

He forced the words out. “Or we say goodbye, if that’s what you want. As soon as I’m sure you’re strong enough to protect yourself. Deal?”

She still didn’t answer.

He said softly, “Let me carry you.”

She still said nothing, but he thought he saw the shine of tears in her eyes. Damn. She was so strong—even in defeat. He knew somehow that she’d had to be, because for a long time she’d had no one but herself to lean on. Like him.

He gave it one last try. “Dr. Jaime gave me morphine.”

He heard her give a soft whimper. “Morphine’s the stuff that makes everything not hurt, right?”

“Yep. But you have to come inside to get it. And promise to stay there.”

There was a long silence. Then, “Fine. Deal.”

Shaking his head, he picked her up and carried her into the motel.

Chapter 11

Lila bit her lips as Damien carried her into the motel room. Tears stood in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.