CHAPTER ELEVEN #3
She heard the frightened breathing now. Sam turned.
It crossed her mind that she might not be able to comfort him, but she could distract him…
maybe. But before she could go back in and begin a seduction, she heard him roar.
The sound was one of rage and anguish. Then she heard the media center come crashing down.
Sam ran back to the room. Ian stood amidst the ruins of the home theatre, which he’d clearly destroyed with his powers. He held his head with both hands, shoulders heaving. She bit her lip and backed out.
He was crying.
Damn it, where was Gerard?
Sam rushed downstairs, heading into the back of the house, where the kitchens would be. Maclean would not want her to see him shedding tears, especially not a second time. The lights were on, illuminating a very contemporary kitchen, mostly black and stainless steel.
The moment she saw the refrigerator door wide open, with no one in sight, she knew something was terribly wrong.
She ran past the granite center island.
Gerard lay motionless on the floor, face up, eyes closed, his face waxen, covered in blood. She’d seen enough victims of violence to know that he’d been stabbed many times and that the blood was his own.
“Maclean!” Sam screamed. Even as she did, she knew there was no way he could hear her from the second floor. She knelt, seeking a pulse. But there was no beat in his artery, and there was so much blood…
Maclean appeared in the kitchen.
Sam looked up. “I can’t find a pulse.”
He saw Gerard and froze. His eyes widened, and then he choked on horror.
Sam still held Gerard’s wrist. As she did, his arm jerked. “Shit, Maclean, I think he’s alive!”
Ian knelt, breathing hard. As Sam reached for her cell phone, it crossed her mind that he cared about his servant a lot. “Do not melt down,” Sam said, reaching for him. She gripped his arm and he looked at her, his eyes filled with panic. “Can you heal him, Ian?”
Lucidity returned. He inhaled. “I’ve never healed anyone until a few minutes ago.”
She’d analyze that astounding fact later. “Maybe you had better try,” she said, speed-dialing the paramedics on Five.
Ian laid his hands directly on Gerard’s mangled, bloody chest. As Sam spoke to the dispatch, she saw Ian’s color returning, which meant he was getting a grip on himself.
Then she saw the wave of white rain coming from his hands, mingling with the blood.
“Tell them to hurry,” she said, ending the call.
Ian closed his eyes tightly, focused now.
His face changed, lines of strain becoming etched there.
White rain poured from his hands and began dripping off his shoulders, his neck, and his chest. Sam sat back, watching, stunned.
While she could feel his desperation, she also felt his resolve.
The one person he cared about was Gerard. He was terrified Gerard would die.
So Sam prayed.
Prayer wasn’t her thing. But the Rose women worshipped the old deities, and it was as fundamental as observing the Wisdoms in the Book. As she prayed, she was acutely aware that without Gerard, Ian would be alone in the world.
The white rain kept coming.
Gerard’s face relaxed, as if it had previously been set against pain. His eyelashes flickered. “You’re doing it, Ian,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t answer her, shaking like a leaf now.
She took Gerard’s wrist and this time she found a steady pulse. As she held it, the pulse became stronger and stronger. His chest seemed less mangled, the wounds became grayish-pink, instead of raw red. Ian moaned.
Gerard opened his eyes. He saw her and gasped with recollection.
The wounds turned pinker now, as the beginnings of infection were chased away.
“Don’t move,” Sam told him. “Maclean’s healing you.” And doing a damned good job, she thought. But she was worried about him. “Ian, maybe you should stop.”
Ian gave no sign that he heard her.
Gerard glanced up at Ian now. “A monk came,” he managed. “There’s no more time.” He took a huge breath. “I think I’m fine, sir,” he said.
“You’re not fine. Don’t speak,” Sam told him grimly. The monk had done this.
Had he decided to take out his rage on Gerard after being thwarted by Ian at the vault? Was this retribution, or a warning? He had known just where Ian lived and who to go after to get at him. And that meant that the monk had been keeping tabs on Maclean.
Ian’s terrible shaking suddenly become convulsive. He opened his eyes, and looked at her, gasping.
“You need to stop,” she cried, sliding her arm around him.
His eyes closed, and he keeled over, unconscious.
SAM WAS PACING when the medics from Five arrived. Nick was on their heels, and so was Jan.
Gerard knelt beside Ian. As the medics rushed in with their equipment, Sam ran up to them. “He was healing,” she told them. “He began to shake and moan and then he simply passed out.”
“A Healer, huh?” the big, brawny medic said, kneeling and strapping a blood pressure cuff on Maclean. “We don’t see many of those anymore.”
Sam felt helpless. Ian remained deathly pale and he had been unmoving for the past fifteen minutes. “There’s a pulse. It’s really weak.”
The female medic was listening to his heart. Nick laid his hand on her shoulder, surprising her. She tensed, facing him.
His blue gaze was searching. “Since when did you go maverick on me?”
She hesitated and glanced at Jan.
“I told him about the DVD.”
“Thanks,” Sam said, furious.
“It’s my job.”
“No, it’s not,” Sam said.
“What the hell happened?” Nick demanded.
“Gerard, the butler, had a bit of a run-in with an unfriendly. He was as good as dead. Maclean brought him back and then he passed out,” Sam said harshly.
His stare remained intense and speculative. “Did you know he could heal?”
She shook her head. “This is only the second time he’s ever used the power—it’s new to him. Nick, the unfriendly is from 1527. He was one of the guards that kept Ian prisoner for Moray.” The medics were giving him oxygen now and the female medic was injecting him with something.
Nick knelt beside them. “Is he going to make it?”
“Can you give us a moment?” the big fellow said.
Nick stood, glancing sharply at her hands. Sam realized that she was wringing them compulsively and she stopped. He slowly shook his head. “Let’s step into the hall.”
She silently cursed. She didn’t want to leave Ian, but wasn’t going to reveal more of her feelings than she already had. She looked at Jan.
“I’ll stay with him,” Jan said.
“Great.” Sam strode out, Nick on her tail. Then she put her hands on her hips and faced him. “I had every right to protect my privacy.”