Grace took a deep breath and then she settled onto the bed next to Elizabeth, took both hands in hers and tried to infuse as much confidence into her smile as she could. She dreaded what she was about to do. She knew it could well be too much. The child was too far gone. So much cancer. Maybe they’d both die. But at least Grace would try. She had so very much to live for, and she knew if she failed, Rio and all his men’s lives would be forfeit.

“Close your eyes,” Grace said softly. “And I want you to concentrate hard. You’re going to feel me. Don’t fight it. But what I need you to do for me is to focus on being better, on fighting this illness and on getting better. The stronger you are, the stronger I can be.”

Elizabeth nodded and squeezed Grace’s hands. Grace smiled at the child’s obvious effort to give Grace reassurance.

Grace sucked in another breath, closed her eyes and then focused all her mental energy into the pathway between her and Elizabeth.

She nearly recoiled from the sheer magnitude of the cancer eating away at Elizabeth’s body. It was everywhere. There was no medical explanation for why this child had lived as long as she had. She’d hung on by sheer force of will.

Grace drew it away, absorbing it in her own body, and felt herself weakening with every passing second. But then she was joined by Elizabeth’s own iron will.

It was a light in the darkest tunnel. Dawn breaking after a stormy night. Strength. Hope. Love. Only the resilience offered by the young. Elizabeth’s spirit was as strong as her will. Her soul hadn’t given up. Nothing about this girl had signaled defeat.

Fused together, their wills strengthened, the light became stronger. The warmth and power of their combined determination infused Grace with much-needed support.

Grace sagged, struggled to keep herself upright, to keep her focus and not lose the battle for Elizabeth’s life. And then tiny arms wrapped around her, holding and supporting her.

A whisper in her ear. “You can do it. I know you can. Thank you.”

Grace reached for the last of the darkness, those ugly shadows that hung tenaciously, and with the last of her strength, she yanked them away, taking them into her own body. She fell forward into the pillows, heard Elizabeth’s cry of alarm. Her plea for her father to help.

Farnsworth’s hands gripped her shoulders, turned her until she was on her side. His face was grim, but full of hope as he looked between her and his daughter.

Elizabeth scrambled Àth scramup to her knees, looking worriedly down at Grace.

“Help her, Daddy. She needs help!”

Farnsworth’s eyes filled with tears as he stared at his daughter, pink, healthy looking, her eyes full of vibrancy that had been lacking for so long.

“Elizabeth,” he whispered.

For a moment, he left Grace and enfolded his daughter into his arms. Muffled sobs erupted as he crushed her to him.

“My baby. My baby.”

Elizabeth pried herself away and again looked down at Grace, who tried to offer her a reassuring smile. She was weak, yes, but she wasn’t incapacitated. She had Elizabeth to thank for that. Elizabeth, who was strong, whose will to live had been so strong that it had aided Grace in the healing process.

She’d lent her strength to Grace so that Grace hadn’t shouldered it all alone.

“Daddy, she needs help. Go get them. They can help her. You promised they could go.”

Farnsworth looked reluctant to leave her even for a moment, but he edged away from the bed and then walked toward the door.

RIO paced outside the doorway. The hall was filled with soldiers. Mercenaries. It was tense. Titan had their guns on Rio’s team as if daring them to make a move. Any move. They looked way too damned trigger-happy.

Rio just hoped to hell that the rest of KGI had made it ashore after the helo drop and were in position. This could all go to hell at a moment’s notice, and he damn sure didn’t want to be without backup.

The door opened and the tension soared in the hallway. Farnsworth stepped out, his back to Rio as he faced Hancock.

“It’s done. She needs help, though. She’s weak. Let them take her and go. I promised them safe passage off the island.”

Hancock pulled his gun, pointed it at Farnsworth, and shot.

Rio leapt instinctively to the side, drawing his own weapon. The hallway became instant chaos. Another shot fired and pain screamed through Rio’s chest.

“Cease fire!” Hancock roared. “Goddamn it! I did not give the order to fire!” He turned in rage and squeezed off another shot, downing the man who’d taken the shot at Rio.

Then he held his gun up high while every one of his team members covered Rio’s team, effectively preventing them from acting.

Rio slid to the floor, blood running like a damn river from his chest and onto the floor. “Son of a bitch! Hancock, you stupid fuck! What the hell are you trying to pull here?”

Hancock nudged Farnsworth’s body as if making sure the man was dead, and then he crouched down beside Rio. His expression was grim.

“Fuck it all, Rio. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was a planned maneuver and one of my goddamn men panicked and got trigger-happy.”

“Daddy!”

The shrill, high-pitched scream echoed through the hallway. Elizabeth ran, trying to get to her father, but Terrence scooped her up, hugging her to his broad chest and shielding her from the gruesome sight.

“Get the fuck out,” Hancock bellowed. “Clear this goddamn area.” Then to Rio, “I know goddamn well you have the rest of your team here. Unless you want this to become a goddamn bloodbath, you better get a handle on them quick. We have no interest in KGI. You were just collateral damage.”

“Diego,” Rio called, his voice fading with every breath. Son of a bitch, it hurt. “Get word out. Stand down. Meet with Sam. Tell him what’s happened. For God’s sÀod‚ke, tell them not to fire unless fired upon.”

He looked up at Hancock with glassy eyes. “You better be telling me the goddamn truth about this. If not, I can guarantee not a goddamn one of you will leave this island alive.”

Hancock nodded.

“Tell Grace…” He gasped, pissed that he couldn’t seem to get air into his lungs. “Tell Grace I love her.”

“Rio!”

Grace tried to push Hancock aside, but nearly fell over with the effort. Hancock reached up to steady her with a gentle grasp.

“It’s too late,” Hancock said gruffly.

Fear and panic slammed into Grace. She collapsed to her knees, wobbling precariously. “No!”

She reached down, putting her hands over the wound just below Rio’s neck. Blood was everywhere. Soaking his clothing, her hands, seeping onto the floor.

Hancock tried to pull her away and she rounded furiously on him. “You know what I can do. Damn it, let me go. I have to save him. I won’t leave him like this!”

Hancock stared hard into her eyes. “You can’t do this, Grace. You’re too weak and this is a mortal wound. There’s no saving him. You need to leave.”

“Fuck you!” she yelled. “You have no idea what I can do.”

“It will kill you,” he growled.

“Do you think I care? Do you think I could live with myself knowing I did nothing to save him? Do you think I want to live knowing he died for me? Get out of my way. If you won’t help me, then go. Go with the others. But get out of my way.”

Hancock sighed and then slowly relinquished his grip on Grace’s arm. She fell over Rio’s chest, hugging him tightly to her.

Don’t leave me, Rio.

The broken words poured from the very depths of her soul.

Grace.

There was a faint stirring as if he was barely hanging on.

Don’t you dare do this. Get out. Go to Terrence. He’ll get you out safely. You’re too weak, baby. Don’t do this. I’m begging you.

She ignored his pleading. She slammed into his mind with the last remaining strength she had. She overpowered his objections, held her ground when he would have fought her off. Nothing, no one, would keep her from saving him.

He was hers, goddamn it, and he’d damn well live even if it killed her.

She reached deep, found reserves she never knew she had. Desperation and her love for this man gave her power she would have never dreamed she possessed.

She pulled, absorbed, and the more she did, the more pain cr

acked through her, splintering, cutting into her like a thousand knives.

She gasped, flinched. She thought she cried out, but she couldn’t be sure. Her focus was solely on him. On stopping the flow of blood. On healing the terrible wound that would most certainly kill him if she couldn’t save him in time.

The smell of blood was strong. So strong she gagged. It was then she realized it wasn’t his blood. It was hers. On her tongue. Seeping down her neck.

As his wound closed beneath her hands, hers opened, tearing a hole in her flesh.

Her vision went dim. It was hard to breathe. So very hard to breathe.

Never had she felt this kind of pain.

Her body, already so weak and embattled by absorbing Elizabeth’s illness, had reached its limit. Not even she could help herself anymore.

She was dimly aware of fÀly awareootsteps pounding down the hallway. Distant gunshots. Yells. Barked orders.

With the last of her waning strength, she sealed the wound in Rio’s chest. And then she gave one last, stuttered breath and slid soundlessly to the floor beside him.

CHAPTER 38

RIO took a huge, gulping breath, jerking to awareness as if someone had just defibrillated his heart and he’d come back from the dead. His hand automatically went to his upper chest, to the terrible wound so near his throat. Only he found nothing. No gaping hole.

His hand came away bloodstained. He hadn’t imagined it. And yet the pain was gone. He could breathe. It was as if it had never happened.

And then he remembered Grace’s broken pleas. Her desperation to save him. And him begging her not to try to save him.

He rolled, immediately coming into contact with her limp body lying next to his. The wound—his wound—was there in her chest. The flesh lay open, and blood ran in a seemingly never-ending stream.

“Grace.”

It came out as barely a whisper.

“Grace!”

He went to his knees, his hands covering the wound, trying desperately to stop the flow of blood. He looked around, panicked. No idea what to do, how to save her.

Hancock shoved in beside him and Rio went for him, not wanting him to so much as touch Grace. Hancock knocked him back and then pressed a thick towel to Grace’s wound, holding firm pressure.

“Terrence!” Rio yelled. “Diego! Somebody! Goddamn it, I need help! We have to get her out of here!”

He returned to Grace, noting the pallor of her face and her complete lack of movement.

“Oh God, Grace,” he said, his voice completely cracking. “No, no, baby. Why. Oh God, why?”

The rest came out in a tortured moan. With Hancock still holding firm pressure to Grace’s wound, Rio gathered her in his arms, rocking back and forth as tears ran freely down his cheeks.

He knew. He knew what this had cost her. He could feel no air exchange. Could feel no breath from her nose or mouth. He buried his face in her hair and wept because he’d lost the one thing in this world that mattered the most to him.

She hadn’t been strong enough to heal him. Not a mortal wound. And so she’d taken it in his stead, knowing the sacrifice she was making.

He kissed her temple, his tears wetting her hair. He gently pushed the strands back away from her beautiful face. He stroked her cheek, ran his fingers over motionless lips.

“I love you,” he said brokenly. “Don’t leave me, Grace. Please don’t leave me alone.”

Pounding footsteps in the hall. Diego followed closely behind by Donovan. Donovan pushed Hancock aside and quickly worked to seal the wound.

He spared Rio a quick glance, full of regret and resignation. “It’s bad, man. We have to move now. Chopper’s waiting. Our only hope is to get her to a hospital so she can be stabilized long enough for her natural healing ability to kick in.”

While Donovan spoke, he felt for a pulse. For a moment his fingers remained at her neck and then he cursed.

“Put her down, Rio,” he barked.

Rio complied, easing her to the floor. His heart dropped when Donovan rose over her, his hands overlaid as he began to compress her chest.

“Hold pressure to that wound,” Donovan ordered. “Make sure that airway is sealed.” Then to Diego.ƀ “Give her mouth to mouth. We have to get her back.”

Donovan pumped her chest and then lifted his gaze down the hall. “Where’s the goddamn med pack? I need an IV yesterday!”

More footsteps in the hall, but all Rio saw, all he could focus on, was Grace and her fight to live.

He slipped into her mind just as she’d done to him.

Goddamn it, Grace. Don’t you go out like this. You hang on. You can beat this.

No regrets.

The whisper was faint in his mind just as Donovan shouted for Diego to stop.

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