Shards of Hope(34)

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.”

The extreme weather had given Aden and Zaira a critical advantage, one their captors couldn’t have anticipated. Injured as they’d been, with the implants in their heads and their captors in a jet-chopper, they wouldn’t have made it far without the rain hampering the chase by washing away their trail.

“Think you can keep some solid food down?” Finn asked and, at Aden’s nod, left the infirmary to organize it.

Unable to fight the urge any longer, Aden walked around his bed to get to Zaira’s. Her breathing was even, her skin tone back to its normal warm shade between cream and golden brown rather than clammy and bleached of color. When Aden picked up a scanner Finn had left nearby, Remi didn’t protest. Aden checked her vitals, focusing on the areas of injury, and was satisfied the healer had done a stellar job stitching her up. All that remained was for Zaira to punch through the veil of darkness behind which she was currently trapped.

Keep your promise, he said silently. Stay.

Aloud, he spoke to Remi. “Thank you for the assist.”

Remi raised an eyebrow. “Why exactly did you need an assist? Arrows are usually a law unto themselves, from all I’ve heard.”

“Even Arrows can’t heal bullet wounds on their own.” Not strictly true. There was one Arrow who could, but Judd Lauren’s ability was so rare it was nothing most people would ever know.

“It wasn’t a criticism.” Remi shook his head. “I don’t know how you walked on that leg if you came from where I heard that chopper circling.”

Aden had walked on it because he’d needed to walk on it to save Zaira. He’d been hit on his way back inside to her, had quickly bandaged up the wound while searching for supplies. The black of his combat pants had hidden the blood from Zaira, his decision not to tell her a conscious one. He hadn’t trusted her to agree to come with him once she knew he was wounded, too. She’d have fought to stay and hold off the enemy, give him a head start. Since Aden would’ve dug his heels in, it had been quicker to prevent the argument in the first place.