Chapter Seven
Marco took a sharp, short breath. The pain in his shoulder shot through him with an unbearable heat, and he winced, clamping his teeth together.
His arm lay lifeless at his side, though he could wiggle his finger a bit so he knew the arm was still there. Any movement set off a pain reaction. How was he going to get to the lion compound or even out of the cave when he couldn’t move without almost passing out from the agony?
Mason should have had someone come for him by now. Where was he? He must know his brother was wounded and being held hostage.
Footsteps echoed in the distance. He strained to hear, holding his breath to concentrate. One person. Small stride.
Alicia.
How long had she been gone? Hours? Days? Had she told the bears? He didn’t sense lies in her words, but with the injury he might have missed what he’d normally pick up.
Never trust a bear. Especially a beautiful one.
The footsteps grew louder, closer. She was moving quickly, but not running. He glanced around the small area to see if there was a weapon he could hide in case he needed it, but the walls were bare aside from the glowing specks of dust or whatever they were. Rock everywhere, but none that could be picked up and thrown. Not that he was in a position to throw anything.
On the other side of the cavern lay the bear’s medpack. Maybe she carried a gun. He closed his eyes. She wasn’t dumb. She wouldn’t leave a weapon behind. Plus, if she had one, she’d have had it out when she was making sure he wasn’t going to try to attack her.
A fiery streak of pain branched through his chest like hot lightning, and he fought the nausea that came on strong enough to gag him. He willed the sensation away.
One...two...three...
The footsteps grew closer by the second. Should he feign sleep or talk to her directly? What if she’d brought someone back with her?
He held no power at the moment, and if she brought back a bear that wanted to kill him, Marco wouldn’t be able to defend himself at all.
So be it. I’ll fight with all I have, till the end.
Alicia stepped into the light. Like a beautiful apparition, she paused in the doorway, one hand on the rocky portal, her full lips parted and eyes wide. He caught himself staring. He shook his head to focus but couldn’t stop gaping at her bright red hair and the way it flipped back and forth as it meandered down her chest in a long ponytail. Curves in all the best places, visible even in her dirty clothes.
“You’re awake.” She leaned against the wall, her curves molding to fit the profile of the stone. A half smile graced her soft-featured face. “I’m glad you aren’t dead.”
He nodded. He was glad too.
“How are you feeling?” She looked him up and down.
Powerless was not a feeling he liked.
“I need...” Marco’s voice cracked. He swallowed against his dry throat. Gods, he felt like shit. “I need to go home.”
She grabbed her medkit bag and moved to kneel beside him, her hair swinging as she moved. After pushing her ponytail over her shoulder, she opened the pack and rummaged in it. For the first time, he noticed she carried another bag on her shoulder—one with fringe and beads.
Odd. The bag looked handmade, maybe Native American. He winced as his shoulder throbbed from tensing up when Alicia arrived.
“Did you hear me?” he half whispered.
“I heard you. I want you to go home too. But that isn’t possible yet—we’ve discussed this.”
She took out her water bottle. “Here, let me help you.” She held the water to his lips and lifted his head with her other hand. “Drink. Slowly.”
He drank, trying not to gulp. The warm water slid down his throat, washing away the dust and dryness that had gathered there.
“Better?” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear.
“Yes. Thanks.”
She set the bottle beside him. “You’re welcome. If you’re wondering, the bears don’t know you’re here. My friend Derek knows, but he won’t tell anyone unless you become dangerous. He’s the one that carried you here from the woods.”
“I am dangerous.” He coughed.
“Yeah, maybe on a good day. Now, not so much.”
He growled. If a lion talked to him like this, he’d make sure they never spoke to him again. Alicia’s voice held a note of teasing, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. A woman had never held him in thrall like this one.
A bear.
The pain in his shoulder was beginning to spread. His chest ached farther from the wound, his arm still completely numb.
I should be able to handle this pain. I’m Maximillian’s son. I am strong.
“You’re hurting, aren’t you?” Her voice softened as she spoke.
He nodded, turning his head away from her. His pride could never know how his personal pride had been reduced to being submissive to a bear. A woman.
“I’ve got some medicine for you.” She placed her hand on his good shoulder. “It should help.”
Where her hand lay on his shoulder, heat raced through him. Not the painful searing heat from his bullet wound, but a soft heat.
A healing heat.
She gently squeezed his shoulder and he shuddered. What he wouldn’t give to pull her close and hold her. The thought flashed through his mind before he could stop it, and he felt his cheeks heat through the fever.
Delirious. That had to be it.
She pulled away. “I was able to get the supplies I needed without being noticed, so I think you’re safe. For now, anyway.”
He tried to smile, still relishing the warm tingles her touch had brought.
“Are you going to tell them I’m here?” His heart strained at the thought. The bears wouldn’t like him in the cave—even though the cave once belonged to all shifters. Given that his pride has attacked them and tried to take the cave away, he couldn’t blame them. A wounded lion wasn’t something that would look good in any light and patching him up would be the last thing on their minds.
“Nope. I’m not telling them anything.” She pulled out an amber bottle of pills. “You need to take two of these. Maybe three. It’s going to hurt when I take out that bullet.” After opening the bottle, she dumped three pills into her hand then opened the water bottle with her other hand, wedging it between her knees to keep it steady.
“Thank you.” His voice was so weak he didn’t want to even speak. What must this beautiful woman think of him? Who could respect a man who couldn’t handle a little pain?
“You’re welcome.” She held the pills to his lips and he opened his mouth for them. She cradled his head so he could drink from the water bottle and swallow the pills.
He winced as the medicine went down. Even the small amount of exertion exhausted him. Maybe the pills would help soon and he could gather his thoughts. Right now, all he wanted was to continue to feel Alicia’s touch. She gave him...something he needed. Comfort? Reassurance? He couldn’t exactly figure it out, but whatever it was, he wanted more.
She helped him lay his head down and brushed his hair out of his face. “Okay, it will take a little while till the medication takes effect. Maybe twenty or thirty minutes.”
“Okay.” No point in even trying to be in charge now. Marco was totally in Alicia’s hands. He’d live or die by her care. All he could do was let it go and relax.
And hope.
At least Mason and the others weren’t around to see him in this position.
Alicia poured water on a cloth from her bag. “Let me clean your face. It will help you feel better.”
He gave a slight nod and closed his eyes. As the cool cloth stroked over his skin he relaxed, enjoying her soft touch. She wiped gently, from forehead to chin and he sighed aloud in pleasure. A fuzzy stirring in his groin snapped him back to reality and he moved his head away.
“Enough.” He clenched his fist and willed away his erection.
“Okay.” She set the cloth aside. “Let’s take that shirt off so I can reach the wound better. I cut the shirt earlier but I need more access to remove the bullet. I hope the dried blood hasn’t stuck.”
She eased the shirt up his abdomen slowly, then over his head, trying to avoid touching his shoulder. Marco bit down, trying not to scream as she lifted his arms to pull his shirt off. He closed his eyes as she leaned close, her breasts brushing against his chest as she held his head and slipped the shirt off. Heat and pain mixed into a cocktail of misery and softness, and yet...he was aware of her presence. Close. She laid his head down and ran her thumb along his jawline.
“I’m sorry you’re suffering.”
Her words were as sincere as any he’d ever heard. Sincere enough to make him look away. She ran her thumb down his neck and lay her hand on his chest, lightly.
Those warm feelings from her touch returned in force, calming him and leaving him wanting more.
“Thank you.” What else could he say? If he weren’t injured, he could think of a lot of things to say and do, but at the moment, he felt pretty impotent.
She sat back and set his shirt beside her. Her gaze drifted over his naked chest, lingering at his stomach then continuing downward. He sucked in his stomach, wishing he could flex his near-six pack. Mason’s was much more defined, but Marco wasn’t ashamed of his own either. He winced as his shoulder rebelled at his display of manhood.
Dammit, he wanted to impress Alicia.
He didn’t imagine the sharp breath she took as she looked him over. Was it because the injury was so bad? Or something else? His injury wasn’t below the belt and yet her stare had lingered a second longer there. His own breath hitched at the thoughts that raced through his mind.
“There, that’s better. I can get to the bullet now. With your shirt off, I mean.” She sat back. “The medicine should be helping soon.”
He swallowed hard and gave a nod of his head to acknowledge her words. The medicine was definitely beginning to work. A numbing dizziness floated on the edge of his consciousness, like a thick fog, and his lion napped. The fog grew closer, roiling and bubbling, coming in like a dark cloud to obscure his pain in puffs of vaporous mist.
“Have you taken a bullet out before?” The medicine fog was rolling in quickly and his tongue felt like cotton.
“No. The bears that had bullet wounds didn’t live and yesterday was the first time I’d even been around bullet wounds. I’ve treated other types of injuries.” Her tone was clipped. “And I’ve studied a lot.”
“I’m sorry.” He fumbled the words, hoping she could sense his sincerity through the drugs.
She stopped unpacking her bag. “Are you? Are you really? You lions attacked us, not the other way around.” She scowled.
“This isn’t the time to have this discussion.”
“No. It isn’t.” She unfolded a towel and laid it beside her. “So stop talking so I can focus.”
He watched her set out her instruments and bandages. So many metal tools to remove one bullet. The medicine fog was closer than the horizon, and his anxiety faded as he fell into the edges of the darkness. Operating in a dirt room couldn’t be the best circumstances.
Somehow, he didn’t care. He blinked through the dizziness and fuzzy vision. She was so beautiful. If he died, at least the last face he saw would be a beautiful one.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m ready. Are you?” The color had mostly drained from her face, leaving it pale and in stark contrast with her deep red hair. Her eyes, so wide. She was nervous, he could smell it.
Or maybe that’s me?
“Do I have a choice?” Did the words come out okay? He couldn’t tell. Floating on the high of pain relievers, he strained to keep his eyes open.
“Do you want to live?” She adjusted her hair back, making sure it would stay out of her way during the procedure, then slathered her hands in hand sanitizer. “This is not the most sanitary of operating conditions, but we have to deal with what we have. I’ll try my best, I hope you know that. You’ve lost a lot blood.” She avoided looking at him, but continued prepping the site with cotton dipped in alcohol, steering clear of the open wound.
“I can handle it.” He continued to gaze at her face as she came in and out of focus.
So tired. He needed to sleep and his body felt like it was floating. With the pain at a bearable level, he relaxed.
Alicia paused, then rubbed his shoulder with a cold mass of gel. “Topical anesthetic.” She squirted something on a cloth. “It will numb the site a bit. Nothing I can do for the inside, though. It’s going to hurt when I dig out the bullet.”
“Do it.”
She picked up a pair of tweezers and touched them to his shoulder, near the wound. “Feel that? Or is it numb?”
Marco shook his head. “Numb.” His lips barely moved. Whatever the pain med was, it worked.
He looked up at the rocky ceiling above. The lighted dots wavered in his vision.
“Relax.”
A minute later, she touched him with the tweezers again, at the site of the bullet entry. A rocket of pain shot up his spine and exploded in his head, sending fireworks of agony throughout his whole body.
The world tunneled black.
* * *
Alicia moved the lantern closer. If only she could do this in an operating room or at least in a cleaner and better-lit spot. But she’d have to work with what she had.
She slipped on gloves and ran her hand over Marco’s bare shoulder to examine the entry wound. He’d passed out, which was good. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to continue if he screamed every time she touched him. Besides, even though they were deep in the cave, someone might hear a screaming lion.
She pressed down on his skin. No lumps where the bullet could easily be found so it must have gone directly into his flesh at a ninety-degree angle.
The mini-operation would be one of the most complicated procedures she’d done. Her stomach fluttered.
Marco was breathing. The pain medicine assisted in knocking him out. If she ended up digging for fragments, then him being still would help.
Her stomach tightened and she inhaled a shaky breath.
This is more than I’m able to handle, Tawodi.
She closed her eyes, as Grandmother Hawk had taught her, and drew in the largest breath she could take, then let it out bit by bit, imagining all the stress and trouble leaving. Blow out the stress of getting caught, of hurting or killing Marco, of another lion attack. Focus on the one task she had ahead. Removing the bullet.
Her thoughts clear, she pushed away the anxiety and forced her mind to relax.
Solitude. Silence. Serenity.
A whisper sounded, beyond her hearing, but inside her head, and she waited. Tawodi had taught her how to let things pass through her mind. Thoughts, fears, stress. She had to let everything go to move on and be ready for the task ahead.
Trust yourself, Alicia. Your destiny lies on this path.
She accepted the message as the truth. This man, this lion, needed her. She would be able to do what she needed to do to save him. Strength surged through her. She couldn’t tell if the whisper came from Grandmother or Shoshannah, but it didn’t matter. She knew what she must do.
Time to act. She glanced at Marco’s face and truly looked at him for the first time. Rugged and handsome, he wasn’t merely an enemy or lion. He was human too. And though his eyes were closed, the way he peered into her when he talked made her feel special.
Bright red, his cheeks flamed with feverishness. Infection was setting in quickly.
Angry, the skin around wound had a faint burned area and bruising where the single bullet had entered, and a black stippling pattern where the little bit of excess gunpowder had spread. She gently raised Marco and peered at his back for an exit wound but found none. He groaned but didn’t come to.
A few flecks of the phosphorescent growth on the cave walls and ceiling had fallen on Marco’s tan chest, giving the appearance of a constellation of stars in a warm summer sky. She blew the glowing bits away, then cleaned the area again.
Maybe the trajectory of the bullet had been straight and merely slowed and then stopped inside his shoulder without exploding into shards. Marco didn’t seem to be bleeding internally, or he would’ve likely already died, even with his shifter healing abilities.
She pressed around the edges of Marco’s wound, trying to determine if the bullet had fractured or if there were any fragments near the surface. A firm lump lay just below the entry spot, not too deep inside, against the bone it seemed.
She had no clips or anything to stave a mistake with a scalpel. He’d bleed out if she hit a large vein or artery.
Trust.
She picked up the packet that held the sterilized scalpel and tore it open. The blade reflected brightly in the lantern light.
She placed the scalpel just under the entry wound, then with a firm pressure, slid it across Marco’s soft skin.
A small incision, lines of red bubbles following her blade as the skin parted. When the cut was about an inch long and the opening lined up with the entry wound, she set the scalpel onto the towel and picked up the surgical tweezers. Her hands shook and she focused on stilling them.
Marco hadn’t moved, other than a random twitch or groan. His breathing was regular, almost like he was sleeping in a soft bed somewhere. He seemed comfortable. If he could stay out a little longer, he’d miss the majority of the painful procedure.
Thank the gods for small mercies. He’d suffered enough already.
She slid the tweezers in the wound, hoping to find the bullet close to the service. She twisted it and felt around with the tips of the tweezers. Blood dripped from the cut, but not too much—she’d made exactly the right incision and avoided anything too deep. The tips of the tweezers scratched against metal.
Was it possible the removal would be so easy?
She clasped the chunk of metal and tugged the bullet out.
She held it up to the light, its brass surface covered in rusty red, and its sleek casing dented. Amazing and scary that something so small could do so much damage. She dropped the bullet on the towel and sat back on her heels.
Whole!
She put light compression on the wound. Thankfully, it wasn’t bleeding much and the bullet hadn’t been deep enough that she needed to try to repair internal tissue. Shifter healing would take care of that.
How did they get so lucky? The bullet hadn’t split or broken into pieces. If Marco had a broken shoulder, she wouldn’t be able to set it, but he showed no deformity.
She cleaned the wound, put a bit of heavier compression on his chest, then checked it and decided she could go ahead and stitch the skin closed.
She pulled the curved and pre-threaded needle from a sealed pack and began running it through the flesh and cinching up the wound. Her hands weren’t shaking anymore. She’d done it. Tiny stitches that would hold the skin together until he healed formed a line that followed where the scalpel had been, like a row of baby plants peeking out of the ground.
She was tying off the last stitch when Marco groaned, and moved his head back and forth. He chewed his lower lip and winced.
“Shit, that hurts.” He squinted and stared at the ceiling then tried to sit up. “Where am I?”
“I took out the bullet but I need to finish stitching you up so lay back. Don’t try to move.”
Marco reached for his shoulder but she pushed his hand away with her forearm.
“Leave it alone. You sure are stubborn.” She tied the knot on the stitch and clipped the extra nylon. The last stitch. She was done.
“It’s hurting.” He lifted his head. “What did you do?”
“You were shot. Of course it’s hurting. You’re in the cave now and I’m fixing you up, or trying to.”
He lifted his head and tried to get a better look. “You’re a bear.”
“Yes, don’t you remember me? Alicia. Bear medic risking her own safety by bringing you into the Cave of Whispers to heal you.” She scooted closer.
“Thank you.” He nodded. “Yeah, I do remember you. Just needed a minute to catch up. Oh, that cave.”
“You’re one lucky lion.” She set the needle down then rolled up the towel with the surgical implements. “Which cave did you think you were in?” Now antibiotics and shifter genetics could do the rest.
“How do you figure that?” His eyes, still half-lidded, searched for her. “I was shot and now I’m hiding behind enemy lines. I’d say my luck hasn’t been so great.” He looked around the room. “And this doesn’t look like the cave I’ve been told about. The one with the healing lake.”
“We’re way inside the tunnels so the bears don’t find you. As for your luck, you were left out in the woods and you would’ve died if I didn’t help.”
“I’ll count my blessings.” His voice quaked.
“We all need to count our blessings. The gods have shined down on us and let us live through the terrible battle.”
“Yes.” His voice, barely a whisper. “I dreamed my father was dead. I’m glad it was only a dream, but the battle memories have shaken me.”
Alicia paused, not sure what to say. Yes, Max was dead. Elijah had buried him in the shifter catacombs deep in the cave. His spirit had joined the starry river already. Marco was in no position to handle the news yet.
“Did you get the bullet out?”
“I did. In fact, it hadn’t penetrated far and I was able to remove it easily and in one piece. I was expecting to have to pull out a bunch of fragments.” She smiled.
He started to sit up. “That’s great news. I can go home now.”
“No, you can’t. I told you to stop trying to sit up. You’ve got to recover before you can take off into the woods. I’d find you lying on the side of the path somewhere and we’d be back to square one.”
He grunted and lay down, relief wafting off him like strong cologne. He didn’t fool her with his tough-guy act. She smelled his pain.
Her shoulders bunched under the pressure of the day. Good thing the surgery was over because she was sleepy and more than a bit grouchy now.
“What’s next?” he asked.
“You need to rest. Also, you must take an antibiotic for a while and let your shifter metabolism heal you. Gunshot wounds are notorious for getting infected.”
He licked his lips. “Did you think to grab me an extra shirt?”
She shook her head, trying not to stare. She hadn’t really paid attention to the fact he was naked from the waist up, but now that the bullet was out she couldn’t help but ogle his masculine form a little. Well, she’d looked when she helped him take off his shirt, but she’d been stressed by the bullet wound at the time.
No denying it, Marco was sexy.
“I was busy trying to get the medicine and supplies, sorry.” She didn’t want to tell him he could just leave his shirt off and it wouldn’t bother her; that would be wildly inappropriate. “You should leave the shirt off for now so I can check on the wound. I need to bandage it too.” Heat rushed to her cheeks. What was the matter with her?
“Thank you. I don’t know why a bear would help a lion like me, but I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. Doing my job, Marco.”
He grabbed her arm and held it. “Is that all it is to you? A job?” His eyes grew wide and the brown shifted to a deep green.
She couldn’t look away from his gaze. “I... I heal people. Of course you’re part of my job.”
He squeezed her arm gently. “You’ve done a fine job. I know it’s risky for me here. I’ll be out of your hair by morning.”
“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t.” Her arm tickled at his touch, and when he moved away, a cold chill passed over her.
“You got any food?” He glanced around the little alcove.
“You need to wait a little while before you eat, but I’ll get you something soon. I do have antibiotics for you.”
“Whee, thanks. Just the steak I ordered.”
She rummaged through her bag and set the pill bottle beside him. “Make sure you take one of these three times a day. After you leave, I mean. I’ll make sure you get them while you’re here.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grabbed the bottle and poured out a pill then popped it into his mouth and swallowed it. “Done.”
“Don’t you need water?”
“Nah.”
Tough guy.