Samurai Game (15 page)

He moistened his lips and looked down at the top of her silky head. “You’re really beautiful, Azami.”

Thorn looked up at Sam’s unguarded face. He was crashing fast. He’d lost too much blood and the Zenith had kept him going, but he was going to need medical attention fast. “Sam, call in your people now. Tell them you need a medic and blood.” She enunciated each word carefully. “Tell them you’re wearing two patches of second-generation Zenith.”

“
That’s
the important information.” He smiled down at her, as though happy she’d helped him remember.

Thorn nearly groaned. He was very far gone. “Sam. Call in your people right now. Tell them to come
now.
”

He stumbled to a halt and stood there swaying, rubbing at the frown lines between her eyes with his fingertip as if that was far more important than his wounds. “How would you know about second-generation Zenith being in existence? Only we know about that. And how did you have access to it?”

“Sam.”
She used her sternest voice. “We need your team now. Call to them.”

He went down, a giant oak tree chopped off at the trunk, his legs completely giving out and he was on the ground, staring up through the heavy canopy at the clear blue sky, eyes wide-open. Thorn went down with him, trying to cushion his fall, a thread of desperation running through the calm. He must have lost more blood than she’d first thought. She should have pushed him much earlier to call his team, to let them know he was injured. She hadn’t because . . . well . . . she just hadn’t been smart.

“Sam, open your mind to mine. All the way, let me in.” She used her voice shamelessly, a warm honeyed tone, slipping inside his mind to settle there. He
had
to let her inside. She searched for threads, anything that might lead her to his team. She knew, without a doubt, that he’d communicated telepathically with them. She’d never tried to get inside another mind deep enough to find a path to someone else. If she didn’t, help might be too late.

She understood that his team’s first obligation would be to rescue Daiki and Eiji, transporting them quickly to safety. The cleanup team could take its time. And anyone coming to get Sam might think they could drive. They needed a helicopter and a medic fast. Second-generation Zenith didn’t break down the body and cause it to bleed out as the first generation had done—Sam wouldn’t need an antidote, but that didn’t mean the blood loss wouldn’t eventually kill him. The drug had forced his system to speed up, not slow down, and any wound inside his body—and he had a hole through him—might continue to bleed internally.

“Sam.” She caught his shoulders and put her mouth next to his, so that she felt every warm breath that he took. His skin felt cool, all that wonderful heat slowly dissipating.

His eyes focused on her. “Kiss me.”

The whisper was so soft she might not have heard it, but she felt the words formed against her own lips. She crossed those scant inches, settling her mouth on his, opening her mind to his, allowing him to slip into her. She refused to get lost in his kiss, pushing for him to open his mind more fully. The moment the barrier slipped, she poured in fast, afraid even as consciousness slipped away, he would close his mind to her. He was very disciplined, very trained, and she doubted he was a man who would give in to torture, yet his mind was unguarded when he kissed her.

She found that elusive thread to his leader. Captain Ryland Miller—Lily Whitney’s husband. She was ashamed of herself for hesitating. Would she allow Sam to die because of her mission? There had to be a line one didn’t cross. Letting them know of her abilities would complicate things, but Sam already suspected too much about her. She couldn’t live honorably if she allowed him to die just to keep her secrets.

I am Azami Yoshiie. I am with Sam Johnson. He’s wounded and needs a medic immediately. He’s lost a tremendous amount of blood. You’ll need several units. To stop the bleeding and keep him on his feet I administered two second-generation Zenith patches. The surge has worn off and he’s crashed from blood loss. His pulse is weak, his skin cooling fast. He hasn’t completely lost consciousness.

Her heart pounded in her chest. The small silence seemed like hours when it wasn’t more than a few seconds before a deep voice filled her mind.

We’ll have a helicopter in the air in three minutes. ETA to you, ten. Medic and blood on board.

She should have been disturbed that he didn’t ask her questions about how she had managed to tap into his mind—that meant he was a pro all the way. He didn’t even ask her about the Zenith and they had to be both outraged and shocked that not only did she know about it, she actually had some in her possession.

Medic wants to know if there’s arterial bleeding.

Not that I can see. I think there might be internal bleeding.

Roger that.

There was another short silence. She realized he was communicating with someone else.

Keep him talking, try to make him stay with you. Has he responded to you verbally?

No.
Thorn felt frantic. She could feel him slipping further from her. She knew the pathway to Ryland Miller, so she didn’t need to include Sam, but as long as she was in his mind, she could monitor his brain function.
He’s slipping in and out.

He’s strong.
The voice was utterly calm.
He’s a soldier. He’ll respond to commands. Talk to him. Force him to stay with you.

Thorn framed Sam’s face with her hands and pressed her forehead against his. “Sam, listen to me. They’re coming for us and we won’t have much time. I will not show affection to you in public, in the way Westerners do. In my family, courtship means nothing.”

His lashes fluttered and she found herself looking into his dark eyes. She was fairly certain Ryland had meant she was supposed to bark commands at Sam to keep him alert, but their connection was far more elemental, far more primal, and he responded to her instinctively—or she liked to think so. In any case, she had his attention.

“Only a proposal of marriage is treated with the utmost respect. If my brother doesn’t cut off your head and accepts such an outrageous suggestion, you will be considered family and must treat my brothers in the same manner. Such an arrangement is not taken lightly in our family. You mustn’t mention courtship when we are back with the others.”

She pressed her mouth against his. “And no more kissing.”

For one moment, her heart nearly stood still when she swore his lips curved beneath hers, the lightest of movements, but then he was fading again. Panic welled up. “Don’t you
dare
die on me, soldier,” she snapped, forcing a crisp, sharp command into her voice. “Open your eyes and look at me, Sam.”

His eyelashes fluttered and he gave a wheezing gasp. She was losing him. The helicopter and medic were going to be too late. Thorn swore under her breath and once again leaned into him.

“Don’t leave me. I need you.” She choked the words out, horrified that they might be true. She barely knew this man and yet she knew him far more intimately than anyone else in the world. She’d been inside his mind. They fit, like two pieces of a puzzle. He accepted who she was, that elusive woman who stood quietly inside the warrior. He treated her with respect—as an equal. He hadn’t hesitated to go into battle with her and he hadn’t checked to make certain she was doing her part. The world couldn’t lose this man. He was something very special.

He’s crashing. He’s crashing now.
She kept the edge of panic from her voice, sending the message with utter calm while inside she felt herself shattering.

There was that small silence and then the voice came—every bit as steady as hers.
Use another Zenith patch if you have it. Just one.

Her breath caught in her throat and for the first time she hesitated.
That could make him bleed out faster if he’s bleeding internally.

It will force the blood to his brain and keep him from brain damage and buy us the time. Lily will operate when she gets there. Just do it.

Lily Whitney—Peter Whitney’s daughter. Did she dare trust her as Sam did? Lily had been the one to develop the second-generation Zenith drug. Was she experimenting with her new drug on Sam? Was she like her father? Did she consider Sam expendable, or was she really trying to save his life?

She ran one caressing finger down his face, took a breath, and made her decision.

CHAPTER 6

T
horn held Sam’s hand and brushed the hair from his face as the helicopter approached. She ached inside, the tension growing as the helicopter landed and the occupants spilled out. Several men raced to set up a tent, while two more and a woman approached her. She let go of Sam, slowly getting to her feet, aware of every weapon she carried, most concealed now. One man carried a litter while the other paced alongside of him, hands free, his eyes not on Sam, but on her.

Her stomach fluttered, but her nerves held steady. This man was her guard. Tall, red hair, solidly built, it was nearly impossible to ignore him. First had come Sam’s warning and then Ryland Miller, no doubt, had told them all to watch her carefully. She knew the drill. There would be politeness, warm smiles, cold watchful eyes, and guards watching her every move. Every one of these men was a GhostWalker and they recognized one another. She had known, when she’d made the decision to enter their camp, that she’d be at risk, but the end result—to improve her chances of finding Whitney’s location—was well worth it. Her brief trip into fantasy—pretending she could actually have Sam—was gone and her very familiar reality was back.

Lily Miller rushed to Sam’s side, nodded at her with a polite murmur, but her entire focus was on Sam. Thorn kept a hand close to her dagger. If Sam Johnson died from Lily’s attentions, Lily would follow right after him and damn the consequences. Thorn played out each step in her mind. She would kill Lily swiftly, use teleportation to get into the clearing she and Sam had first jumped to, and then disappear. The GhostWalker team would have home field advantage, but she had confidence, not only in herself but in Daiki and Eiji. They might not be enhanced or have psychic abilities, but they had unbelievable skills, and they would never panic.

Thorn kept her eyes on Lily while the redheaded guard kept his eyes on her. Lily assessed Sam’s condition quickly. She handed Thorn a bag of fluids with the briefest of nods.

“Come on, Sam,” Lily murmured softly. “Hang in there for me. Give me two more minutes. Just two. That’s all I need.” Even as she whispered cajolingly, she inserted a needle into his arm, frowning in concentration as she tried for a vein that seemed elusive.

The big soldier kneeling on the other side of the cot steadied Sam’s arm for Lily, his face a mask of concern. He was all muscle, and yet the look on his face revealed hints of genuine affection and love—the sort of emotion a man like him would show only when fear ate at the edges of his mind. He sent her a quick reassuring smile in spite of the fact that he was anxious.

“Tucker Addison, ma’am. Sorry about the circumstances.” He was deeply afraid for Sam—they all were. That frightened Thorn even more. She should have known something was wrong much earlier.

She inclined her head. “Azami Yoshiie.” Sam had used far too much energy teleporting, again and again. She knew from experience how difficult it was on the body, yet he’d done so wounded and unflinching. Was it possible using teleportation had aggravated the wound in his body?

Lily was much easier to read than the man. She was so apprehensive over Sam’s condition, she had no time for anything or anyone else—not even a potential enemy or an honored guest. Sam was her only concern. Thorn felt the tight coiling in her body ease just a little. There was no way to fake the kind of anxiety Lily was displaying.

Lily found the vein in Sam’s arm. With a rapid efficiency Thorn couldn’t help but admire, she hooked up an IV and then a second one. Blood and fluids pumped into Sam nearly before Thorn could take a second breath.

“Is he going to make it, Doc?”

Thorn narrowed her gaze to center on the speaker, the man standing at Sam’s head.

Lily frowned. “Of course, Kyle. I refuse to allow any other option. It’s safe to move him to the tent now.”

She glanced at Thorn, as if really seeing her for the first time. Thorn realized that, until now, Lily had viewed her as little more than an inanimate object on which to drape supplies while she saw to her patient.

“Ms. Yoshiie.” Lily inclined her head in a slight nod of respect. “I’m sorry we’re meeting under such extreme circumstances. We have to move Sam into the tent. Would you mind carrying these?” She held out the bags of fluids. “I need to keep my hands free.”

Thorn shook her head and immediately stepped up to take the bags from Lily. Another man hurried to help Tucker lift Sam into the litter. They moved fast toward the tent, Lily running along beside them. Thorn’s sense of urgency revived with a vengeance. Lily had declared Sam safe to move, but if they were running, he wasn’t out of the woods yet.