Street Game (GhostWalkers #8)(34)
Author: Christine Feehan

“You want to tell me what you want with Jaimie?”

“You’re the one standing over her with a gun. She looks in bad shape. You tell me who you are and what you’re doing here.”

“You can find out about us the hard way, just like we’re doing with you,” Mack said. “You think I’m going to hand it to you?”

“This is going to be a damn long day and she could be in real trouble,” Joe pointed out.

“She’s my family.” My everything. Mack didn’t say it aloud, but he might as well have, with the gruff voice he used.

Those black eyes studied him. “I look out for her. Step aside and let me see to her.

I have medical training,” Joe added.

He’ll have to let go of the switch, Kane pointed out.

True, but he’ll be next to Jaimie. If he’s an assassin . . .

Joe sighed. “Keep the gun to my head. Let me take a look at her.”

Mack stepped aside. “I’ll kill you without hesitation if you even look like you’re going to harm her.”

Joe’s eyebrow went up. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you.” He walked straight across the floor to the bedside, turning his back on Kane without hesitation.

Cocky bastard, Kane observed.

Joe knelt down beside Jaimie, his back to both of them. They knew it had to take courage to do it, but the man ran his hands gently over her face. “Hey, sweetheart, can you open your eyes for me? I need to look into them. I want to hear you talk.” He glanced over his shoulder at Mack. “Has she talked? Slurred her words?”

“She told me to go away and let her sleep,” Mack admitted, “so she knew what was going on, and no, she didn’t slur her words. But she’s in pain. She was moaning up until a few minutes ago.”

Sweetheart? Who the hell does he think he is, calling Jaimie sweetheart? he demanded of Kane.

Noticed that, did you? Kane shook his head. Let it go, Mack. He’s worried about her. She always was more sensitive than the rest of us to violent energy, and someone died back there.

She should never have opened herself up. We could have protected her if she hadn’t done that.

We don’t know how her radar works. Obviously she had no choice if she wanted to find out the enemy’s position. Mack, she’s in trouble, we both can see it.

“Tell me what you need for her,” Mack said. His gun never wavered. His gut told him Joe Spagnola was there to help Jaimie, not hurt her, but it would take one moment to kill her.

“My medical bag is in the lift.”

Kane immediately retrieved the small bag, opened it, and went through it carefully. Joe didn’t even glance at him, but had placed his fingertips on Jaimie’s head and closed his eyes. Marc was an accomplished medic in the field, working with wounds, but he didn’t have the ability to work with brain bleeds. Strokes and even death could follow. The moment the fingers locked onto her skull, Jaimie’s facial expression turned to a frown, and her body became restless beneath the thin sheet.

“She has leaking blood in several spots, although none appear too bad. No big clots.”

“Can you stop it?” Mack asked. Do you think he’s a psychic healer? The real deal?

I don’t know, boss, but he looks like he knows what he’s doing, Kane answered.

“I’ll try working to seal off the weak areas. Sometimes I can and other times I don’t have the strength to tap into the energy I need. It all depends on how severe the problem is. I have some medication in my bag that should help. Do either of you know how to set up an IV?”

“We both can.” Nearly every GhostWalker could. All of them had fundamental lifesaving skills.

Kane removed the necessary equipment and began the preparations while Mack watched Joe closely. The man kept his fingers on Jaimie’s skull, and they could feel the pull of energy around him as he seemed to gather and use nearly every bit in the room. For a moment the smell of burned flesh permeated the room and Mack’s heart jumped in response, but he held still, the feeling that Joe was working to help Jaimie strong.

She moaned softly and tried to turn her head, her body moving restlessly under the covers. Her legs thrashed and she lifted her hands, trying to push him away, batting feebly, but very persistently.

“Hold her down,” Joe ordered. “It hurts like hell. Basically I’m trying to manipulate the energy to do what we’d do in surgery.”

Mack holstered his weapon and sat on the other side of the bed, leaning his weight on her slender body while Kane put the catheter into the back of her hand.

“She should have gone to the hospital,” Mack said, angry with himself. He didn’t trust her being in a hospital. It would be far too easy for an assassin to get to her. Too many doctors, nurses, and orderlies going in and out of her room.

Joe shook his head. “Too risky. She’s a target. You couldn’t take the chance and you know that.”

Jaimie continually moved her head, trying to get his hands off of her. Her moans were becoming cries of distress. Mack leaned close to her and whispered in her ear.

“I’m here with you, honey. He’s trying to help you.”

His voice seemed to soothe her a little. She subsided, her fingers sliding across the sheet to find his leg.

“You know why they want her dead?” Mack asked.

“I have my suspicions. I hope I’m wrong. I originally was assigned to guard her to keep any foreign governments from trying to acquire her. What about you? Do you know?”

“We just arrived last night. We grew up together.”

“You must be Mack McKinley. I read her file. She had a very different background. All of you were friends before you ended up on the same team.” Joe visibly relaxed, although his fingertips never lifted from Jaimie’s skull.

She cried out softly in protest again and began to thrash under him again. Kane gripped her hand to keep her from ripping out the IV. Her lashes fluttered and she tossed her head, trying to get rid of the insistent fingers and the heat they were generating.

“This is hurting her,” Mack said. “She wasn’t doing this before.”

“I’m operating without anesthesia. Did you think it would be easy? She’s a GhostWalker, she’ll be able to handle it.”

“She’s not like the rest of us,” Mack protested. His stomach was in knots and there was a bad taste in his mouth. He felt as if they were torturing her. Jaimie wasn’t cut out for what they did, no matter how powerful her gift. If she opened herself in public, too much energy rushed in to overpower her. He had believed that with practice, all of them could protect her. They were anchors and in theory, the energy should rush to them, but something about Jaimie was different. He’d known it since she was a child, that her psychic gifts worked differently than all of theirs, and that hers was stronger.