Shards of Hope (Page 28)

As PsyMed had once wanted to put down Zaira.

Allowing himself to look toward her for the first time, he made certain to keep his tone neutral as he said, “I heard you note Zaira was stable.”

“She is, but she’ll only be out of the woods once she wakes up.” Finn shifted to give Aden an unobstructed view of the other bed.

Zaira’s body lay motionless in a way it never was in life. The rebellious, brilliant fire in her whispered its continued existence in the way she fought, so quick and smart, in the way she spoke with such rapid-fire intelligence, in the way she protected those who were her own with icy fierceness.

Aden made himself look away before he betrayed the depth of his concern for her.

“You aren’t fully Silent, Aden. You never have been.”

He’d thought it was his contact with Vasic and Ivy’s bond that had changed him, but maybe Zaira was right about his Silence. He cared, had always done so for the people he saw as his own. And Zaira . . . she’d never been just another Arrow in his squad. Always, he’d been drawn to the fire in her, that untamed wildness that was so unlike his own controlled nature.

Aden had been taught discipline from the cradle, been taught to never draw attention or be anything but unremarkable in the eyes of the world. Zaira was like the storm outside in comparison. She’d become the perfect Arrow, but even that, she’d done on her own terms. Since the day they met she’d been disagreeing with him about everything under the sun, never watching her words, never offering him anything but the searing truth and her absolute and unflinching loyalty.

The room suddenly flashed with a shocking brilliance of purple-white light.

“Given your unworried demeanor,” Aden said when neither Remi nor Finn made a comment on the closeness of the strike, “I assume this building is protected from lightning strikes?”

A teeth-baring grin that was very feline. “Careful, Arrow, or I might think you were insulting my ability to look after my pack.”

“No insult intended.” Aden fought his compulsion to hold the alpha’s gaze in a primal power struggle, the instinct one he’d learned to rein in over the years. Instead, he returned his attention to Finn. “Zaira’s condition?”

“She has less severe bruising at the implant site, but her internal injuries were significant.” At Aden’s request, the healer listed those injuries one by one. “I made damn sure I fixed each and every tiny shredded piece—that I can promise you.”

Aden believed him. There was a strong sense of competency about the other man, added to which, he’d picked up on injuries even Aden might have missed. Finn wasn’t just a doctor and a healer, he was a very good one.

Taking Aden’s pulse again after asking him to stand beside the bed, Finn said, “If she doesn’t regain consciousness, though, there’s nothing else I can do at this point except try the drugs I have. None are calibrated to Psy physiology.”

It wasn’t what Aden wanted to hear and he could tell it wasn’t the news Finn wanted to give.

“The best-case scenario is that she wakes on her own in the next few hours,” Finn continued. “At that point, the major issue will be with the site of her gunshot injury; it’ll be tender for a period, and her body will tire more easily for roughly a week, but she’ll be fine as long as she doesn’t do anything to tear open the new skin.”

Making a note on an electronic chart, the healer walked backward several feet. “I had to stimulate growth of her own skin because none of the patches I had would bond to her, so it’s more fragile than she might expect.”

When Finn urged Aden to walk toward him, Aden knew the other man was judging his balance. “Anything feel off?” the healer asked, his eyes intent as another burst of lightning lit up the lightly tanned skin of his face.

“No.” Except for the painful silence in his head.

“Headache?”

“Yes.”

Finn asked him several more questions to gauge the amount and exact type of pain and Aden had to think not like an Arrow but like a civilian to answer him. An Arrow’s pain threshold was far higher than most people’s, but that could be dangerous in this circumstance.

“Okay,” the healer finally said. “Nothing unexpected here, and the pain should ease up after twelve hours. If it suddenly increases in strength, or changes in some way, I want to know immediately.” The words were an order. “Any delay could be fatal if there’s an unexpected bleed.”

“Understood.” Thanking the healer for his work, Aden turned to Remi. “I can’t recall if I ever identified myself to you.” Neither could he place the leopard changeling in any known pack.

“I recognized you,” the alpha said, keeping his hands on his hips rather than extending one. It was either a courtesy because Psy were known to be uncomfortable with the kind of touch the other races took for granted or a sign of reticence because he didn’t yet trust Aden enough to shake his hand. “You’re with RainFire, in the Smokies.”

The pack name didn’t raise a red flag, but neither did it come with knowledge. He did, however, now have a general location. Since the Great Smoky Mountains sprawled across a large area of land, he’d have to gather additional data to figure out the specific location. “This weather is unusual for the region.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “You win the prize for understatement of the century. There was a tornado warning not long before the comm blackout, so yeah, this isn’t usual. Not unheard-of, though—just rare.”