Connor’s diversion works, and about half of Viper’s goons are off wandering around the woods looking for us. I hate waiting until the fucking drugs wipe out the rest of Viper’s men. And I hate waiting for the drugs to hit Viper. He doesn’t seem affected at all.

I keep my eyes fastened on Rayne as she services the bastards. Clearly, the drug that Viper gave her is an aphrodisiac. His goons have their paws all over her. Rage battles jealousy, but I have no time to dwell on that now. I need to be ready to go the instant Connor gives the signal.

“My turn.” Viper yells so loudly, even his men jump. Dread surges through me as Viper pushes Rayne against the table. He intends to hurt my little dragon, and I can’t let that happen.

He grabs and twists her swollen nipple. I focus on telegraphing one thought to her—don’t fight. Just in case. I’m not sure how much of this empath stuff I believe, but for now, better safe. And what does she do? Kicks him in the balls.

Viper stabs her. Pride juggles with terror as I spring from behind the draperies. My brave Dracaena.

I snatch a throwing knife from my shoulder sheath. Rayne pulls Viper’s knife from her leg. Arterial blood spurts. We haven’t got much time before she bleeds out. An adrenaline rush almost blows the top of my head off. I cross the floor in two strides.

“Got you covered.” Connor’s voice rises above the sounds of fighting.

Rayne points the tip of her knife in Viper’s crotch. “Back up, you bastard.” Her voice is hoarse as she battles the blood loss.

I wrap my forearm around Viper’s throat, putting the knife against his carotid artery. “Rayne, I’ve got him. Tourniquet your leg.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, she takes the knife and slices an apron string. Kat crouches beside her as she ties her leg above the cut.

“Tighter.” During that split second, Viper whips out another knife hidden under his shirt and stabs up under my left arm. The wound’s deep and hurts like a son of a bitch. I slide the tip of my blade into his neck, close to the artery. “Want to try that again, fuckwad?”

“Why don’t you fight like a real man?” Viper growls. “At least I killed the little slut. “I can hear the smug arrogance in Viper’s voice. Every fiber in my body vibrates with the urge to snap his neck. I draw in a deep breath. Arch my back, letting the energy surge through my arm. I manage to pull it away. “Move.” I push Viper toward the table. I need to put him out of commission in the next ten seconds. Please don’t let her die. Not again. Please, God. Funny how, in times of peril, we call on an entity who probably doesn’t exist. I hear the ratchet of a gun cocking.

“I’ve got this.” Connor’s voice rings out loud and true. “You take care of your little one.” He drops my medical bag on the floor beside me. An evil grin spreads across his face as he grabs Viper. “Back up, scumbag. We’ve got a little surprise for you downstairs.”

Relief washes through me for an instant before I turn my attention to Rayne. The pallor of her skin sends panic shooting through me. I crouch beside her. Her lovely caramel skin is now a dull gray, her breathing shallow. I take a couple of deep breaths and force back the panic. This will not happen again. I simply won’t allow it.

I use the second apron string to tie a tourniquet above the first. I check her foot . . . No distal pulse. I send a silent prayer upstairs, thankful the tourniquet works. That buys us a little time.

Kat hands me a knife with the efficiency of a trained nurse. I rip the wrap from a sterile pad and place it over the wound. “She’s going into shock. Get a blanket.”

Moments later, Kat drops a blanket over Rayne. I tip my head toward my hands. “Lean on this with all your weight.” I don’t even try to keep the edge from my tone. Rayne starts to thrash around. “Stop.” I look at Kat. “We’ve got to keep her immobile and get her to a hospital.”

I pull the IV saline bag and tubing from my medical bag. She’s shocky, and I need to stop the progression and fast. I tie off her arm and look for a vein. Shit! Her blood vessels match her frame—small and delicate. I take a deep, steadying breath. Calm down, Jay. This isn’t Savannah. I slap her arm. She moans. She’s sweating. She’s pale, cool and clammy. I take her pulse. One thirty . . . weak and thready. Shit!

“Try the other arm. She says she has one good vein in her left arm,” Kat says.

I don’t even want to know why Kat and Rayne would have had a reason to discuss her anatomy. After I find the vein, I connect the intravenous and open the flow. Hoisting the plastic bag in the air, I say, “Hold this.”

“Jaden.” The urgency in Kat’s voice startles me, and I look up. “How bad is it?” She stares at my left chest.

Blood seeps steadily from a deep six-inch cut curving from the base of my armpit across my ribs. A minor inconvenience under these circumstances. I look back at Kat. We don’t have time for this shit. She says nothing.

“Didn’t hit anything vital. Needs a few stitches is all.” I wiggle the IV bag toward her.

She rummages in my medical bag until she finds a sling. “First this.” She wraps the bandaging around my chest and ties it snugly. “There, that should help stem the bleeding.” She takes the IV bag.

I pull out the blood pressure cuff. Ninety over sixty. Goddammit. Not again! Please God, not again.

“How long do we have?” Kat asked.

“Don’t know.” I check again for a distal pulse. None. Good. At least something works. “She’s shocky. Then there’s the long-term blood loss to the leg.”

Visions of Savannah that fateful night in the ER start to dance through my head. I need my little dragon. Kat clears her throat. “Meaning?”

“Meaning there’ll be cellular damage if it’s on too long. That’s amputation. The sooner it comes off, the better.”

Connor appears at my side. “We’ll get her in the car. Wasn’t sure what you want to do with Viper. I locked him in a cell downstairs.” He hands me a ring of keys.

I stare at my hand for one stunned second that feels like a week of sleepless nights. Kill the bastard. Make him bleed. Every cell begs me to treat Viper to a taste of the pain and despair he’s brought on these unsuspecting young women. Some of them children. Savannah’s dead face flashes in front of my revenge-filled bloodlust. I don’t have time for this.

I stand in the front of a large room with several small cells, more like cages, against the walls. The doors to all cells but one stand open. The locked one houses Viper. He’s restrained against the back wall with chains and metal cuffs on his wrists and ankles. Five young women stand around the whipping benches in the center of the room. They stare at me then back at Viper.

Viper lunges against the restraints all the while screaming, “You’d better let me out, you son of a bitch. I’ll kill you.”

It takes all of my will to stop myself from returning the favor. But I don’t. Instead, I hand Viper’s knife and keys to the cell to one of the women. I give my Swiss blade to another. The hint of a smile crosses her lips as she accepts the offering. I turn and walk out of the room, closing the heavy wooden door, drowning out the sounds of Viper’s screams.

That unique hospital emergency room smell and cacophony of moans, grunts, and sighs assault me as I walk through the sliding glass doors. I drop Rayne onto the waiting gurney. As they rush her off to the OR, cramps grip my gut. A gentle hand drops on my shoulder.

“You’ve done all you can, Jay,” Kat says. “Let’s get you looked after.”

The throbbing under my arm hooks my attention. The bandaging and shirt over my left abdomen are covered in blood.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

I smile at the familiar voice. “Susan. How are you?”

The nurse practitioner directs her gaze to my cut. “Work first, chatter later. You know the drill. This way.” I follow her to the cubicle in the middle of the large emergency department. Most of the cubes are occupied by seniors suffering COPD or having issues with their pacemaker. A man wretches and gurgles as he tries to clear phlegm from his lungs. Just a normal night in the ER.

Susan quickly takes my vitals. “Still strong as a horse, I see. Let’s take a look at what we have here.” Without further ado, she removes the blood-soaked bandaging and cuts away my T-shirt. Her movements are firm and efficient. Ouch! I grimace.

“Yup, that’s a nasty one. What happened?”

Now there was a poser. The police are most certainly on their way. Protocol requires the staff to call for any type of stab or gunshot wound. Keep it simple and stick to our story.

“I got in the way of a guy trying to mess up my girl.”

“You sure did,” Susan says. “You’re damned lucky your ribs got in the way. That’s one nasty cut. You’re going to have one ugly scar in your armpit.” She fills a syringe from a small bottle on her prep tray.

“A bit of a pinch. You know the drill.”

A bit of a pinch, my ass. Life doesn’t feel quite so rosy on the patient side of the fence. Susan proceeds to inject local anesthetic around the cut. “This one’s going to need ten or twelve stitches.” Susan starts sewing, using the same small, neat stitching plastic surgeons use. Bless her.

The intercom crackles to life. A disembodied voice chants, “Code Blue in OR two. Code blue, OR two.”

Panic surges through me. “Is that—”

Susan nods. I slump in despair. Code blue means respiratory arrest. My little dragon is dead. I slam the heel of my hand onto the gurney.

“Easy there, Jay. You know the drill. It’s not over—”

“Until the body’s in the bag,” we both chorus. But Susan’s upbeat mood doesn’t penetrate my dread. Fear snakes around my heart, threatening to incapacitate me. I hold my breath as I wait for the code requesting a transfer to the morgue.

“All done.” Susan snips the thread and tapes a large gauze pad over the cut. “Here, put this on.” She hands me a set of scrubs. “Showers only—”

I jump off the gurney and give Susan a one-armed hug. “Thanks! Good to see you.”

She taps my right shoulder. “Chin up. I’ll see what I can find out for you. Will you be with your friends in the OR waiting room?”

I nod as we walk toward the emergency room exit. “Thanks.”

Kat and Connor sit in a corner of the waiting room, talking to a uniformed police officer. Connor glances at me. That one brief look tells me he’s made no mention of our arsenal or Viper’s potential demise.

“Here he is now.” Connor stands as I cross the room. The officer follows suit. “Jaden, meet Officer Daly. Officer, Jaden Stone.”

Officer Daly’s eyes travel over me. He looks decidedly out of his element as if this case was one mountain higher than anything he’s ever worked on.

“What can I do for you, Officer?” I take the seat beside Kat. Officer Daly resumes the seat opposite. Connor sits beside him, facing me.

“I understand you’ve been stabbed. How did that happen?” Daly flips a page in his notebook and sits, pen poised. Dull gray eyes stare back at me. I tell our agreed-upon version of what transpired at The Manor—we’d received a panicked call from Rayne and tracked her cell phone signal. When we arrived, a fight ensued. Viper stabbed Rayne. I tried to save her. Viper stabbed me. Connor helped subdue him. We’d locked him in one of his cells, released his captives, and called the police. We’d rushed Rayne to the hospital as there was no time to spare.

“There’s only one problem with your story—there was no one at this place you call The Manor.” He askes me a few more questions, confirming the location of The Manor in Inverhuron and what we found there.

“And you’re sure you’ve never been at this house before?” Daly isn’t the brightest bulb on the planet by any stretch of the imagination, but then, what can one expect of a small town police force.

“Absolutely positive.” I keep my tone neutral, exercising the calm patience I use whenever confronted by law enforcement.

Daly shakes his head. “Any idea where this Viper might be?”

“None whatsoever.”

Mirth bubbles below the surface of Connor’s blank facade.

“But you left him locked in the basement?” Daly scratches his head.

“Yes, sir.” Don’t volunteer information. I keep my expression blank as Daly leafs through his notes.

“Where’s the cell phone?”

I pull my cell from my pocket and hold it out to him. Connor covers a snort with a cough. Daly’s gaze shifts from Connor to the cell phone to me. “She gave it to you?”

“Oh, you want Rayne’s cell? I have no idea where it is.”

“We may need you to come into headquarters to make a statement.”

“Jay?”

I leap from my chair as nurse Susan sticks her head through the door. “Here.”

“Rayne made it through the surgery, and she’s in ICU. We almost lost her, but she’s a fighter.”

Officer Daly muscles his way beside me. “I need to take her statement.”

Susan gives him the authoritative hospital stare perfected over many years of dealing with the daily deluge that runs through the ER. “That will need to wait until she’s conscious.” She turns back to me. “You can see her for a minute. Your friends can wait in the ICU waiting room.”

Kat touches my arm. “We’ll be going now. Call if you need anything.” She stands on tiptoes, kisses my cheek, and then draws me into a big hug. “She’ll be okay. The nurse is right. She is a fighter.”

I allow myself to sink into the comfort of her embrace. I’m not usually one for warm fuzzies, but I accept the gift of her strength for several long moments. Almost losing Rayne has shaken me to the core.

“See you when you get back.” Connor slaps me on the back as I follow Susan through the large double doors. Officer Daly follows on my heels. Susan stops at the nurse’s station. “Someone will be right with you.”

High-pitched beeps and respirator fans compressing are the only sounds filling the deathly stillness of the ICU. Susan leads me to one of the cubicles surrounding a station housing a large bank of monitors. Blankets swath Rayne’s tiny frame, and her small head and left arm are the only things visible. Oxygen leads run from her nostrils. I examine the IV bags running into her scrawny arm—Type O blood mingles with an antibiotic drip.

Susan rifles through the chart hanging on the end of the bed. “She’s not out of the woods yet, but she’s stable.”

As her gray pallor strikes me, my breath catches with fear. Fear that stills my voice as much as the large lump threatening to choke me.

Susan pats my arm. “I’ll give you a minute.”

I pull up a chair and take the hand of this young woman I barely know. This woman who in two short weeks has wormed her way deep into my heart. I send a silent prayer through the universe. Come back to me, little dragon.