Not about to have this meeting lying on his back, Aden sat up, quickly getting a visual of Zaira on the infirmary bed next to his as he did so. His skull throbbed violently but he wasn’t as weak as he might’ve expected. It appeared he’d been given something to maintain his strength, his fluids replenished. “How long have I been out?” he asked, noting that he was wearing only loose black drawstring pants.
Remi threw him a white T-shirt from a shelf to one side of the room. “Eighteen hours.”
An eternity for an Arrow in hands that were not those he trusted, but these hands had saved his life. Pulling on the tee, he reached back and gingerly touched the spot where Zaira had dug out the chip right as Aden had sensed it build up to explosion point, lightning bolts of electricity crawling through his neurons on a direct path to his cerebral cortex.
His fingertips met a thin-skin bandage. “Any permanent damage?”
“I can’t tell.” White lines bracketed the medic’s mouth, his leaf green eyes grim. “Whatever it was you two had in you, it was jammed in—hack job. You probably did less damage taking the things out than was done putting them in.”
Aden couldn’t risk testing his telepathic muscles. If he suffered a backlash of pain, it might leave him helpless again even if it didn’t do any further damage. As it was, he didn’t think the news would be good—he’d consciously dropped his psychic shields when he woke. Instead of sensing a loud background hum that denoted the minds of the people around him, he’d heard only echoing silence.
The fact that he was around changelings didn’t explain that silence. Changelings might have strong natural shields, but they existed. And from things Judd had said now and then, he knew most packs had human members as well. He should’ve at least felt a faint murmur that was created of the surface thoughts of a group of sentient living beings.
Controlling his psychic need to reach out took harsh effort. Akin to a changeling leashing his animal, or a human not using her dominant hand while attempting to complete a delicate task. “The current date and time?” he asked, trying not to think consciously of the absolute silence inside his head . . . and of what that silence would do to Zaira if she was in the same condition.
When Remi answered his question, Aden did a rough calculation and realized his and Zaira’s captors had only had him for twenty-three hours prior to their escape. Zaira had to have been taken after him, else he’d have heard of her abduction. Rushing the surgery had been their unknown enemy’s biggest mistake. A longer time frame and the implants would’ve likely become too deeply embedded to easily remove.
“I’d like to take your vitals.” Not waiting for an answer, Finn picked up what Aden recognized as a top-of-the-line medical scanner and closed the distance between them.
Cooperating with Finn’s requests because the medic clearly knew what he was doing, Aden said, “You didn’t contact the squad?” It was very possible this unknown pack had no contacts in the PsyNet, and thus no way to get a message back to Vasic and the others.
Remi shook his head. “Communications are out because of the storm. We figured you’d get in touch with your people once you woke.” He tapped his temple in a silent reference to Aden’s psychic abilities.
“I’d feel better if you had a specialist look at you,” Finn said, putting down the scanner to physically check Aden’s wounded leg. A lock of his light brown hair fell across his forehead but he ignored it to continue his task.
Flexing the limb for the medic and feeling no pain, Aden said, “You appear to have done an excellent job.” It was simple enough to seal a minor wound with the correct laser, but repairing all the tiny blood vessels, torn ligaments, and other shredded internal mechanics would’ve taken hours of concentrated and careful work.
And Aden’s wound had been far less complicated than Zaira’s.
Finn didn’t speak until after he’d tested Aden’s reflexes on that side of his body. “I’m a qualified and certified doctor as well as a healer,” he said, switching to the other side, “but I’m no neurosurgeon. I can’t guarantee I didn’t miss something.”
Remi stirred, eyes locking with Aden’s. “I don’t want to end up with two dead fucking Arrows in my territory,” he said with brutal frankness. “Call in one of your teleporters, go see an M-Psy.”
Aden had to make a decision—tell the truth and reveal his vulnerability, or make up a lie. For now, he decided on the lie. Remi could’ve killed him while he was down, but the leopard alpha’s assistance could also be a cunning double cross. Remi had been in the same isolated area as their captors, after all. Aden couldn’t afford to trust the alpha or his packmates until he’d categorically confirmed their lack of involvement in his and Zaira’s abductions.