“The price was paid. Blood was shed. Your life for hers,” a voice whispered then, gentle, soothing. “Your return depends only upon your own will.”
His eyes opened. The winds blew before him, shimmering, iridescent, glittering beneath the brilliant rays of the sun. The force of it was nearly blinding, filled with heat and whispering promises that shook him to the core of his being.
“Are you strong enough to return, child of the wind?” the voice whispered. “Strong enough to hold onto all you died for? You have held your end. A life for a life, blood for blood.”
“I can return?“
“A life for a life. Blood for blood. The bargain was met. Your return depends only upon your desire to be.”
He heard the scream then, feral, agonized, a sound filled with such misery, such bleak, resounding sorrow that at first he wondered if it were his own.
Through the shimmering waves of heat and air, he saw her then. She was fighting someone. Jonas. He was holding her to the floor as Megan and Braden attempted to help hold her still. Her hands were clawing at a door, her head tilted back, blood and dirt and tears streaking her face as she wailed his name.
“Harmony.” He whispered her name, reaching out to her. His hands sank into the shimmering waves of life, reaching for her, not even minding the hard, brutal jerk of his body.
Then darkness filled his vision and his own cry echoed inside his mind as he fought to find her once again. He had to get to Harmony.
“Rest, child of the wind,” the voice whispered as his body became leaden, his soul aching for the sound of Harmony’s voice. “Rest for now …”
It didn’t matter that the empath held her in her arms or that Braden and Jonas were arguing quietly in a corner. Through gritty eyes, Harmony stared at the clock on the waiting room wall and counted the time, second by second.
She could hear the muted beep of the heart monitor in the operating room, the proof that Lance had come back, and so far, he was still alive. The sounds of the surgeons’ voices had drifted away for the most part. She didn’t want to know what they said; she couldn’t live with the knowledge of what had happened to his insides.
How many times had she killed with a single gunshot to the heart? The knife was her preferred method of killing, not her only one.
She was aware of Megan’s hand petting through her hair gently as Harmony’s head lay in her lap. The other woman treated her as a child, and for the moment, Harmony didn’t have the will to resist. Lance’s parents were on their way to Boulder, via the Breeds’ heli-jet. They would arrive soon. And she was supposed to be there. She was supposed to face them, the woman who had nearly killed their son.
Cousins, aunts and uncles were said to be rushing to the hospital. Harmony had no idea how she was going to face them all.
“They’ll love you.” It took a moment for Megan’s soft voice to penetrate. “Lance loves you. You carry his baby and he chose to risk his life for you. You didn’t force him to do it, Harmony. He did what he knew he had to.”
“He didn’t have to,” she whispered. “He should have let me die.”
“And he would have followed you,” Megan sighed. “At least this way, he’s fighting to live. Whether he does or not, you are still a part of our family. Just as your child is.”
If he didn’t live, she would follow him. Megan and Braden would raise the baby with all the love Harmony had no idea how to give. She would follow Lance. Just as she had sworn she would.
“Harmony…” Megan protested. “That wasn’t what Lance wanted.”
Harmony knew the empath was reading her emotions, perhaps even her thoughts. It no longer mattered.
“I told him,” she whispered. “I warned him, the choice is his. Life or death. I’ll follow wherever he goes.”
She wouldn’t live without him, and she knew it. She was aware of Jonas and Braden watching her worriedly, of the silence that filled the waiting room.
“He died so you would live.” Megan’s voice was tearful. “You’ll let him sacrifice himself for nothing?”
Not for nothing. The child they had created had to live, she knew that. But Harmony knew she couldn’t go on alone. The ghost of all she could have had would haunt her forever.
“His child will live.” Tears Harmony didn’t know she could still shed bled from her eyes. “I can’t fight anymore, Megan.” She swallowed tightly. “There’s no fight left in me.”
Even though Megan argued with her, she knew there would be no changing Harmony’s mind. It was no more than she would do if anything ever happened to Braden. He was her world. Her light. He was all her hopes and her dreams, and her greatest desire. It would be no different for Lance and Harmony.
She had stayed away from the couple, not because of Lance’s fears for her, but because Megan had sensed Harmony’s battles and she knew there would have been no way to disguise her sorrow, her compassion. Harmony hadn’t needed that. Not then. She needed it now.
Megan lifted her eyes to Jonas, aware of her own tears. The solid core of determination inside the young woman she held was unbreakable. It wasn’t grief or sorrow talking. This was the woman who had fought, had sacrificed and who had lived with nightmares every day of her life. Megan knew that if they lost Lance, they would lose Harmony as well.
Jonas’s emotions, though well guarded, were easy enough for her to read. His heart was breaking. Right there inside that stone wall of a chest, beyond the mocking sarcasm and the manipulating games, he was breaking apart.
Megan had kept her silence on Jonas. She rarely agreed with him and she let him maintain his facade of vengeful, righteous Breed fury. It wouldn’t pay to ever let him know that she saw deeper than that, that she saw his nightmares. That she saw his pain.
“Fight for Lance then.” She turned her attention back to Harmony as she felt the fragile, weak force of Lance’s emotions searching around her.
He was alive. So fiercely alive and determined to protect Harmony, even now. Megan could feel it. He had sensed his mate’s pain, her agony, and nothing short of death, perhaps not even death, would keep Lance’s spirit from seeking her out, attempting to comfort her. It was the first sign Megan had seen that they hadn’t lost him. Until now, she hadn’t been certain herself that he would live.
Relief poured through her. She had been waiting for him. She knew her cousin.
“Harmony, let me take you to Lance.” The girl jerked as though to get up. “Just stay still. There’s only one way to do it, and it might not work. You can help him fight. Help him fight, Harmony.”
He was so weak. She had never felt his life force so weak, and it terrified her. As she settled her hands over Harmony’s head, she let herself reach out to him. She called his name, met the searching tendrils of psychic warmth, and then she let Harmony do the rest.
She was shocked by the sudden pouring of heat from Harmony’s body, through her own, and toward Lance’s searching mind. As though Harmony had been waiting for him, preparing for him.
How the woman managed the will to send such energy through a channel so fragile, Megan had no idea. But she swore, as she closed her eyes and maintained the bridge between reality and spirituality, that she felt them embrace.
Was she asleep? Had she finally lost the will to even stay conscious? Harmony felt Lance reaching for her, his arms holding her, and though he would have given her the heat he always tried to instill in her, she gave her own instead.