Ashley Truing’s perpetually tanned flesh looked so pale, washed out and dull that Diane could actually detect the dark roots that were beginning at her scalp.
Normally, the professional color she had applied to her hair looked so natural, so well colored and streaked that it was impossible to tell it was artificial.
It was also not natural to see her this quiet, almost lifeless, as though the exuberance and vivacious life force that was so much a part of her had drained out with the blood she had lost from the laser-shot wound.
All but silent, almost always deadly when set to its highest setting, laser hand weapons could emulate the old-fashioned bullet-loaded weapons but with much more deadly results.
Thankfully, Ashley had had a med tech well versed in immediate care of such wounds. It had kept her alive long enough for the Breed doctors to get to her. Just as her Breed genetics and amazing inner strength had helped her live through a wound a mere human wouldn’t have had a chance of surviving.
Diane watched through the window of the ICU room as Lawe stood at Ashley’s bedside listening to Dr. Armani and Dr. Sobolov fill him in on her condition.
The Pride alpha and his prima, Callan and Merinus Lyons, had already been there and were currently in their suite awaiting Lawe and Diane at the Navajo Suites along with the Wolf Breed alpha and lupina, Wolfe and Hope Gunnar, and the Coyote Breed alpha and his coya, Del-Rey and Anya Delgado.
The nurses had reported that the Coyote alpha had to force the coya from the hospital. Ashley was one of her dearest friends, and she was inconsolable with worry.
“They lost her twice during surgery.”
Diane swung around to face Rule, the current commander in charge of the teams that had been sent to Window Rock ahead of them.
“Will she be okay?” Diane turned back to the glass looking into the dimly lit room as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and watched Lawe.
His expression was pulled into lines of worry as he stared down at Ashley. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, his eyes burning with fury.
Ashley looked like a little doll tucked into the hospital bed. A pale, still, lifeless little doll.
“The doctors say every hour she’s breathing is a reason for hope,” he said with a sigh. “It was a bad hit. Too close to the heart, and she’s small.”
The reflection of his casual shrug was at odds with the heavy sadness in his voice and in his expression. It was rare that she saw Rule showing any tender emotions. He was good at anger, sarcasm and mockery, but it wasn’t often he allowed himself to feel anything more.
“He’s going to get worse.” The quietly spoken words had her tensing as her gaze touched on Lawe again.
“What do you mean?” Was he aware of the struggle she and Lawe were involved in?
“Lawe saw you almost broken when he rescued you in Syria,” he said softly. “I saw his face when I and the team met him at the hospital you were flown to. He knew you were his mate. He saw you at your weakest. You’re not going to take that image out of his head.”
She glanced at his reflection once again, her gaze meeting his in the glass as she recognized the emotion that swirled in the darker topaz of his eyes.
“You don’t like me much, do you, Rule?” Her lips twisted at the thought.
“Actually,” he said, exhaling roughly, “the problem is, I do like you, Diane. I liked you even before I knew you were his mate.” He nodded toward his brother. “What I don’t like is the fact that you’re not willing to keep him as safe as he’s willing to keep you.”
“And that’s how you see it,” she murmured.
He nodded firmly. “That’s how I see it.”
How little his brother knew him, but hell, how little he knew himself actually. Lawe may have pulled back from active status, meaning he was no longer taking the worst of the worst missions, but he was still there, working side by side with the bogeyman of the Breeds, Jonas Wyatt.
Her lips quirked at the thought, a mocking acknowledgment of her own thoughts. Lawe wasn’t being shot at, but he was still in danger.
“He’s not exactly back home on the farm planting vegetables, is he, Rule.” A bitter reminder that Lawe hadn’t retreated to Sanctuary to build cabins, work base security, public relations or the political positions that were kept open for those Breed mates pulling back from active status. “He’s still directing the missions and dining on adrenaline. But you expect me to tie on an apron and bake bread, don’t you? That’s what you and Lawe both expect from me.” Sarcasm dripped from her lips and she knew it. At the moment, she excelled at it.
His head tilted in acknowledgment. “It would make life easier on the rest of us.” His gaze flicked to hers in the glass. “Unfortunately, I don’t think it would be edible.”
Diane almost smiled at the comment, though her heart clenched in pain at the reminder that Lawe wouldn’t give a damn as long as she was out of danger.
Before she could pull the emotion back and take control of it Lawe’s head whipped around in the middle of his conversation with the doctors, his gaze narrowing on her, then on his brother.
Rule clucked his tongue behind her. “See what I mean? There he goes, getting all protective. The second he senses your hurt feelings, he’s ready to battle.”
From the corner of her eye she watched Rule’s image in the glass as he gave his brother a mocking little finger wave. She had to roll her eyes. Brothers were brothers whether they were Breed or human. Alien brothers were probably the same she thought ruefully.
Evidently, the taunt reassured Lawe because he turned back to Armani and Sobolov, though he did shoot his brother a warning glance as he did so.
She was about to hate men. She could see it coming. They were irritating, overconfident, arrogant and just plain assholes. At least the good ones were. She sighed in resignation at the thought.
She’d actually given due consideration to the subject of giving up the day job as Lawe lay napping the previous night. God knew she didn’t want to see him distracted at the wrong time, and she didn’t want to see him hurt or dead because she couldn’t take a backseat and return to Sanctuary with him. It was in the middle of the night that she realized there wasn’t a chance in hell he would stay there with her. Not for long anyway.
Like Jonas, he would go back and forth. But Rachel was Jonas’s personal assistant, and when possible, she traveled with him. She shared the job with him; they often talked shop together and he valued her opinion.
She simply couldn’t see Lawe doing the same. He wanted too desperately to forget that she was a soldier. That she was nothing but his mate.
Dr. Sobolov adjusted Ashley’s blanket, smoothed a wisp of hair back from her cheek and stared down at the silent form for long moments.
“Her attacker was killed?” Diane asked.
Rule nodded sharply. “Gideon killed him. Holden Mayhew was attempting to kidnap Malachi Morgan’s new mate. She and Ashley are friends and Ashley was caught in the middle.”
Diane knew Malachi. The former Enforcer, who had been pulled into public relations for his exceptional ability to read expressions and detect conspirators, was quiet and intense and, for a Coyote, quite likeable.
“And his mate?”
“Bruised, beaten, though not severely. There were two Council Coyotes waiting at the stairwell exit outside for them. He was selling them a Breed mate. We found the two Council Coyotes this morning, skinned out and gutted in the desert. Gideon can be a savage bastard, it seems.”
Diane suppressed a shudder at the thought of what those Coyotes had suffered, but words her uncle used to mutter drifted through her mind: “Live by the sword, die by the sword.”
“Lawe said Malachi reported knowing him?” Surprising enough.