Wild Cat (8 page)

Siena moaned softly as the helicopter banked and then moved fast toward the hospital. Jake covered her naked body with a blanket, dragged on headphones and talked into the radio, obviously communicating with the doctor, relaying as much information to him about Siena's injuries as they could see.

Elijah wanted to brush away the bloody strands of hair that hung in chunks over her face, but the thick strands were helping to stop the flow of blood. Instead he ran his finger along her eyebrow. “I'm here, baby. Right here with you. Hang on for me. Can you do that, Siena? Promise me you'll hang on.”

Her lashes fluttered. His breath caught in his throat, but she didn't open her eyes. Everything after the landing felt like a terrible blow. The gurney waiting, the team of doctors racing her to the operating room where Doc was waiting for her. He couldn't go with her—he tried—but four huge security guards blocked him from the room.

He would have gone right through them had it not been for Jake and Joshua. The two men moved up on either side of him, and Jake backed him up with one hand. With three words. “You're not helping.”

It was the longest wait of his life. Hours. He didn't sit down. He paced. His leopard raked at him savagely, needing to get to his mate, to ensure no harm was coming to her—to ensure she lived. Elijah found he couldn't pace away the rage that rode him so hard, or the need to go find Paolo and
Alonzo and retaliate in a way that would make them suffer for a long time before they died.

He pushed both hands through his hair and stopped moving, going completely still, his breath holding there in his lungs as the doctor came through the doors. Jake and Joshua immediately were there, on either side, caging him in. Not touching him, but close just in case.

“She's alive. She's strong. She fought him off of her. She fought hard. There was no evidence that she was raped, thanks to her determination. Because you told me you had sex with her last night, I gave her the more advanced pregnancy test, but it hasn't been twenty-four hours. Her body is flooded with hormones, so we treated her as if she were pregnant. I'll give her another test tomorrow, because if she's pregnant that will determine the pain medications we can give her.”

Elijah shook his head and took a deep breath to let it out. Of course she could be pregnant. With her leopard rising, both the cat and the human were fertile at the same time. He'd been so out of control he hadn't thought about anything but being inside of her.

“She has four cracked ribs and another one fractured,” Doc continued. “The laceration on her hip and leg is the worst. It took us hours to close that one. Michelle, a friend of mine, is an amazing plastic surgeon. She spent a long time on Siena's face as well as all other surface closings. The four rake marks on her back are deep, and she's going to experience pain for a long while. She was lucky. He wanted to hurt her. He wanted to punish her, but he didn't want to kill her.”

“Her leopard didn't accept his,” Elijah guessed.

“I would say that's what happened,” Doc agreed. “The puncture wounds indicate he tried to cement a relationship. The fact that the male leopard raked her like that, it wasn't a marking, it was a punishment, a leopard out of control when he's denied what he wants.” Doc's dark eyes pierced Elijah directly. “Her leopard was already bonded to yours, yet there was no mark on her from you.”

That wasn't exactly true and Elijah knew it. He had marked her with his teeth, with his hands. His marks were all over her and probably deep inside as well.

“What are you not telling us?” Elijah prompted.

“Infection is bound to set in,” Doc said. “We have to anticipate that. We flooded the wounds with antibiotics, but this is a cat and those lacerations are deep.
Very
deep. We're not out of the woods yet.”

“You're not happy,” Jake observed.

Doc sighed. “She lost a lot of blood. We gave her transfusions and we'll blast her with a cocktail of intravenous antibiotics, but you need to be prepared.” He stood for a moment, head down, and then he looked up, his eyes meeting Elijah's.

For the first time Elijah could see the leopard in him. That fierce nature.

“Whoever did this to her needs to be . . . eradicated. Gone. For all time. It's not right. She's a young girl. I've never been so angry in my life.”

“I'll find him,” Elijah said, and made it a vow.

*   *   *

S
IENA
floated in a sea of pain for days, moving in and out of awareness. Once she opened her eyes and Elijah was there, his hands stroking her hair, whispering softly to her, assuring her he was there. That she was safe. At times she thought she was dreaming, but that time she knew he was really in the room with her. She couldn't bear his touch. Couldn't stand the idea of facing him. She would never be safe again. She would never look the same again. She closed her eyes and he was gone.

Another time she heard muted weeping. It was heartbreaking. She wanted to get up and go to the person to comfort them. They sounded so alone and wept as if their world was gone. It was only when she felt a hand on her forehead, brushing back her hair, and heard Elijah's voice soothing her that she realized
she
was the one crying.

She surfaced a few more times and always he seemed to be there, no matter if it was dark or light. She had to have been dreaming, but it was such a strange thing to dream that she wanted to stop. She didn't even want the man in her dreams, let alone in her hospital room—and she knew she was in a hospital. She remembered what had happened to her—every single detail.

In the car, Paolo had tried to rape her. She fought him hard, but when he hit her in the face, nearly knocking her out, her leopard had pushed forward to save her and she'd allowed it. It had angered Paolo that her leopard had already emerged. His male leopard had immediately attacked the little female. Her female had only come out twice before and had no clue how to fight off a huge male, and he wanted to mate with her. The attack on the small female leopard had been brutal and Siena couldn't stand it; she'd shifted again to protect her cat.

Siena didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to remember the pain knifing through her when the cat mauled her. She didn't want to think about her grandfather's death and how her demands of allowing her to have a different choice for a husband had precipitated his death.

Siena tried to force her body back to wherever it had gone, but she could hear the sound of machines and the noise was persistent. A heartbeat. Drumming. And then there was the pain. She wanted to move, to try to get away from it, but found it impossible. She took a breath and forced her eyes open. She found herself staring at a wall. She was hooked up to all kinds of bags with all sorts of liquids in them, and none seemed to be the painkiller that she needed
desperately
.

Her face felt stiff and throbbed with every beat of her heart. Her ribs hurt. Her back and one side all the way down to her knee felt like agony. She was lying on her right side, only a sheet covered her, and it was her left side that felt as if someone had poured gasoline on it and started a fire.

“She's been moaning,” a voice said—a male voice, one
of hard authority—and he sounded pissed. “She's in pain. Give her something.”

Her breath left her lungs in a long rush. She knew that voice. She prayed it was a dream only that Elijah Lospostos had been holding her, whispering to her to hang on, but there was no mistaking that voice of absolute authority.
The worst I ever had.
She squeezed her eyes tightly closed.

She couldn't face him. Not ever again. Certainly not like this. She hadn't glanced under the sheet, but she knew what she would see if she did. She looked like Frankenstein's monster, sewn back together in patches. She pushed her fist into her mouth to keep from weeping. She wouldn't do that in front of him.

A woman bustled around by the machine and stuck a needle into the line going into her arm. “You're awake,” she said brightly. “This should take care of the pain. I'll let the doctor know you're awake.”

Siena didn't respond. She bit down harder on her fist, wanting to scream at Elijah to leave. What was he doing there? Had he been there the entire time? The woman left the room, and she felt his hand on her hair—hair that was braided. She nearly groaned aloud, remembering the feel of hands in her hair, a brush. That low male murmuring as he braided her hair to keep it out of her face and make her more comfortable when she'd been so hot.

“Go away, Elijah,” she ordered flatly.

“You know I'm not going to do that, baby,” he said softly.

She opened her eyes and there he was. Close. Too close. His hand stroked a caress through her hair and tears burned behind her eyes. She didn't want his pity. “I can't face you right now. Please just go.”

“We'll get through this. You're on the road to recovery finally. The fever has subsided, and it looks like the antibiotics have finally kicked in.”

She was afraid to move. Whatever drug the nurse had given her was actually beginning to work and she didn't feel
like screaming in pain for the first time since she'd become aware. She didn't want that agony to come back. That meant staring into Elijah's eyes, eyes that changed color continually, one moment light mercury and the next as dark as night. Her breath caught in her throat. He needed a haircut, but the need suited him, giving him a disheveled, sexy look that went with his handsome face. He was a beautiful man, with his black tee stretched across his heavily muscled chest and his jeans fitting his narrow hips and tight butt perfectly.

He was breathtaking. She didn't want him to look at her, and she certainly didn't want to meet his eyes. She couldn't.
The worst I've ever had.
His words were burned into her brain.

“Don't, Siena,” he said softly, as if he could read her thoughts. “I was full of shit, saying those things to you. I fucked up. I know that. You know that. We have to move past that because we both know I'm not going anywhere.”

She stared at the wall just over his head.

“Siena. I told you I fucked up. I'm saying we need to move past it.”

Something inside her broke. She wanted to leap at him, anger moving through her humiliation. “Move past it? Exactly what should I move past, Elijah? Move past the things you said to me? Sorry, the things you said can't be unsaid. Move past the fact that you shoved me out a door naked when I was in shock? I don't think there is moving past those things. Please leave before I call security.”

“I
am
your security,” he snapped. “No one is going to throw me out, baby, least of all you. You're going to have to come to terms with that fact. You know everything I said to you was bullshit, so move on.”

“Oh. My. God.” She forgot about the pain—probably because it had subsided—and she lifted her head, glaring at him. “You are so arrogant. And idiotic. Seriously idiotic if you think I'm just going to forget what you said to me. I can repeat it word for word if you like.”

“I wouldn't like,” he said, his eyes nearly glowing at her
as if he had every right to be angry. “And lie down before you hurt yourself.”

“You can stop giving me orders and get out of my room.”

He put a hand on her shoulder and applied pressure until she had no choice but to subside against the pillow. For a moment satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. She saw the leopard there, and she knew he was one of them. She
knew
it. His temper. His arrogance. The sheer power he exuded just walking into a room.

Siena narrowed her eyes at him. “I can't believe you. You have no right . . .”

He leaned so close her breath caught in her lungs and her angry retort caught in her throat. His mouth skimmed her ear. “I have every right.
Every
right, Siena. You're mine. Your leopard accepted me. You gave yourself to me. You have my child growing inside of you. Believe me, baby, you belong to me. I don't give up what's mine. So move past the bullshit and let's deal with what we've got going on now.”

She stared at him, feeling another body blow. A hard one.
You have my child growing inside of you.
Did he just say that? Did she hear him right? She opened her mouth but the only sound that emerged was a soft cry of anguish. She closed her eyes, jammed her fist back in her mouth and bit down hard. It didn't help. Tears started. Once they did, she couldn't stop them.

She cried silently, a storm that couldn't possibly be held back. She wept for the men who had died after she'd distracted them, allowing a hit man to get into place. She wept for her grandfather who she loved more than anyone on earth. She wept for the fact that her beloved grandfather had used her to do something that vile. She wept because she'd given herself to Elijah Lospostos and he'd thrown her out his front door naked.

“Baby, enough,” Elijah soothed, his hand back in her hair. “We'll work this all out. No one can get to you. We've got the team in place . . .”

She couldn't stop the tears. There was that awful first time. The only time. The
worst
he'd ever had, and now there were consequences because she had been so out of control and burning up for him that she hadn't thought about what could happen. A child. Elijah's child. If Paolo or Alonzo found out they'd move heaven and earth to get to her. They'd do something terrible.

She lost sight of Elijah and then felt his weight on the bed. He actually stretched out beside her, careful of her back, but his arm went around her waist and his breath was on the nape of her neck.

“Baby. Go ahead and cry, then. Let it go. All of it.”

“Go away, Elijah.” It came out muffled and teary because of her fist. She also sounded a little desperate.

“You need to cry, then cry, but you're going to do it in my arms.”