Chapter 9 #6
It was only minutes before she felt him standing over her. He knelt down as she opened her untrustworthy eyes. “What happened?” he asked gently, reaching to gather her to him. She grasped his arms to steady herself but was shocked to feel warmth and wetness beneath her fingers.
She forced herself to focus on the dark fluid soaking his shirt. “You’re hurt!” she exclaimed as the anatomy of the injury instantly flared into her psychic awareness. He’d been stabbed in his left biceps and clawed across the right.
“No. Don’t,” he said firmly when he sensed her power. He drew her up into his arms and stood easily. She blinked away the diagnostic images of his injured body when he refused her help. “Save your strength for those who need it more.”
“Amando,” she whispered, knowing by the tension of his body and the lines around his mouth that it was bad.
“Amando is dead. It’s Rye. He took the brunt of the trap.”
“What was it?”
“Electricity. Rye was right. There was a time constraint. They were running out of the fuel they were using to power an electrical trap around the camp.”
The screams of agony she had felt and heard. Reule and his men walking into that painful death trap. “Amando is dead?” She felt fresh tears and sorrow burn across her soul.
Reule set her on her feet, but held her up against his body. “There’s nothing you can do, kébé.”
“What does that mean?” Her gaze snapped up to his at the oddly worded reply.
“He was bitten by a Jakal.” Delano spoke up from behind her, making her twist in Reule’s proprietary hold. “Jakal venom is fatal.”
Reule growled threateningly at Delano, and she knew the Pack had been warned against involving her.
“But he isn’t dead yet?” she demanded.
“As good as. It’s a matter of minutes, Mystique.”
“Take me to him. Let me help him!”
“No!” Reule held her in a grip of iron when she tried to wrest herself away. “Amando made me swear not to let you try. kébé, the suffering from Jakal venom is horrific. He saw how you took on Chayne’s wounds. We can’t know if you’d survive. He made me promise …”
“Then break your promise! He’s in pain and doesn’t know what he’s saying!
Let go!” She lunged hard against his grip, sending her braid whipping against her face.
“Please!” She didn’t want to throw a tantrum, but couldn’t seem to help herself.
Sobs wrenched out of her chest in hard rasps as tears fell wildly.
“Mystique, stop it!”
Anger overwhelmed Mystique. She gripped Reule with infuriated strength, and the workings of his body flared into her mind’s eye. Reule was the most powerful telepath and empath she’d probably ever know. This would be no easy task.
She was right.
Mystique felt the sudden seal of an enormous hand around her throat and she was jerked completely around until her back was flush to his chest and her breath was being slightly restricted by his powerful grip. He wasn’t hurting her, but he was making himself perfectly clear.
“Don’t you dare try to strong-arm me, little girl,” he gritted out in a savage warning into her ear.
“Then let me go to him! I can save him! Please! I’m begging you.”
“Don’t you think I want that?” he demanded, giving her a sharp tug. “Amando is Pack. My blood flows in his veins and his in mine. My mind is within his this very moment. I’m feeling him die. Don’t you think I want to let you go to him?”
“No! I think you’re choosing me over him! Please! Darcio, Delano, please!”
“Stop! I’m begging you, baby, please stop.
” His voice broke and she abruptly stopped struggling when she heard the pain in him.
He lost control over his emanation and suddenly she could feel it.
All of it, driving into her. His grief and the agony of watching Amando die from the inside out.
The wretchedness of the entire Pack. The knowing and the helpless fury.
“You could never save them both, you know. Rye needs you too, and at least he has hope. You can’t possibly save him and Amando.
Who will you choose? Can you choose?” He dragged in a hard, stuttering breath.
“I’m making the choice for you. Don’t you see?
That’s what I am meant to do in this world. Let me protect you.”
Reule scooped her up, her totally passive body telling him that she’d finally absorbed the terrible truth of the situation.
He swallowed back his own torment and carried her over to where Saber and some others had laid Rye’s savagely burned body.
The cosmetic wounds weren’t the problem.
He’d taken a terrible hit, the pulse wracking his body for a while before Reule and Delano had figured out how to free him from the trap.
They couldn’t even feel his mind anymore, and they were terrified of losing two Packmates in such a painfully short timespan.
The psychic effect alone would be devastating.
Reule wasn’t in a position to dwell on the personal ramifications, though.
It was a luxury that, as Pack-leader, he might never truly have.
Reule dropped her down beside Rye. She curled up onto her knees and reached out for Rye.
She stopped just before she touched him, hesitating as her eyes flowed over his big body.
Reule didn’t need to be a telepath to know her thoughts.
She was reconciling herself to the idea that if she committed herself to healing Rye, she would eliminate any hope for Amando.
Reule already knew there was no hope. In another minute Amando would truly be gone.
The backlash of his death would tremble through the Pack, including Rye, who might not be able to survive the devastation of it in his present state.
Reule wanted to tell her to hurry, but he’d pushed her too much already.
She was tired and feeling ill, and badgering her would be of no help.
She took a deep breath and laid her hands on Rye’s broad chest. She went straight for his heart and lungs, knowing what electrical shock could do to both.
His heart was beating erratically, his lungs filling with fluid.
His numbed brain couldn’t correct the problems. In a way, the current still lived within him.
But she would change that. She eased his heart into matching her own slower, steadier beat. She was smaller but he was generally healthier than she was, so it was a fair approximation. She emptied his lungs, coughing as her already smoke-abused chest absorbed the damage.
Reule stood quietly over her, as did the rest of the Pack.
Silence reigned in the dark forest as though they were at worship, rather than flesh from battle.
Rye became the center of Mystique’s existence.
Pictures of his anatomy burst into brilliant color and detail.
She marveled at how much she knew about the small structures whose delicate balance was necessary for the miracle of life.
Her hands slid over the charred male body as she forced him into a deep sleep, no longer needing another to divert pain for her.
She was proud of that. If nothing else, that development was worthwhile.
In the end it was the exterior burns she left uncared for, partly from exhaustion, but mostly because Reule snatched her away, calling an end to the healing. She murmured instructions about how to dress the burns and then fell asleep.
She didn’t feel it when, moments later, Amando finally slipped away from the rest of the Pack.