"You all right?" Nick asked sharply.

"Think so. It's a through-and-through. I'm already healing," he replied. He was a little out of breath, but standing on his own.

Nick looked around. "Anyone else? I know I heard at least one other hit."

"Took one high in the chest," Jax muttered. His face was pale, sweat rolling down his temples.

"What?" Kira gasped. "Let me see."

He shook his head. "No time. Mac can take a look in the van."

"Are you healing?" Nick's voice was tight with concern.

"Not sure."

Which wasn't an answer. Eyeing his chest, she spotted the small hole in the dark fabric on the left side, barely noticeable. On closer inspection, she could see wetness spreading on his shirt, and it didn't seem to be slowing any. A chill shook her. When he'd rescued her from the two men that first time, he'd been hit and had healed almost instantly. And again, when he and Aric had fought, their scratches and bites had vanished quickly.

He wasn't healing now. With every step they took to the elevator, and then across the parking garage, making their escape, he slowed. When they reached the hole in the fence, his limp was worse than ever, he was breathing hard, and his friends were exchanging worried looks. His shirt was almost completely soaked with blood, and the front of his cammos was fast becoming saturated. He stumbled and Zan was there, slinging Jax's right arm over his shoulders, half-carrying him.

Halfway to the van, his knees buckled, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

"Shit!" Zan caught him as he collapsed, lifting him into a fireman's hold.

"You got him?" Kalen asked as they reached the mouth of the alley where he and Hammer were waiting.

"Yep. Damn, he's heavy though."

They were moving fast and Kira had to jog to keep up. Fear gripped her by the throat and wouldn't let go. He hadn't felt well to start with, but he'd insisted on coming anyway. And now he'd been shot and couldn't heal.

Because of me?

If that was true, if she caused the death of the man she loved, she'd never forgive herself.

The man I love. Oh, my God, I love him. He's my mate. Mine.

And he can't die.

Back at the vehicles, the two doctors met them, faces grim but determined. The scene took on a surreal quality as the sick pair of shifters were loaded into the SUV with Dr. Mallory, Ryon, and Aric. Kalen helped Zander get Jax into the van, and once inside, Zan refused to let go of his best friend. Kira crouched in the back, close enough to hold her mate's clammy hand, but giving Mac room to work. Tears sprang to her eyes, rolled down her cheeks.

"Jax?"

No response. He lay horribly still as Mac cut his shirt up the middle and parted the flaps, exposing the wound. Blood was streaming from the hole located high on the left side of his chest, inches above the nipple, close to the collarbone.

"I'm pretty sure the bullet missed his lung," the doc said. The relief in the vehicle was tangible. Quickly she checked his back, and put a damper on the good news. "But it's still in his chest and he's losing too much blood."

"Let me do my thing." Placing a hand over the wound, Zan pressed down firmly. A blue-tinted glow lit his hand, and Kalen sucked in a breath, eyes wide.

"You're a Healer?"

"Yes, but it's not working." Zan, holding his friend's head in his lap, removed his bloodied palm and swallowed hard. "Why the hell isn't he healing, Mac?"

"I've got a theory, but it's privileged information."

"What? That's bullshit! Is he dying or something?" Zan barked at the doctor, dread stamped on his handsome features.

"Or something," she agreed, her gaze flicking briefly to Kira.

Who felt like a steaming pile of shit.

"He'll recover, though. Right?" Zan asked.

After a pause, Mac nodded. "I believe so."

"You believe so? What the-"

"Easy, man." Kalen touched Zan's shoulder. "Let the doc get to work so she can help your friend. Okay?"

For a few seconds, Zan visibly struggled with himself, perhaps to keep from snarling at the newcomer. In the end, however, he just sagged against the side of the van. "You're right."

Mac kept working, placing a pressure bandage on the wound. Next she hooked up an IV, and Kalen held the bag of fluid aloft for her. "Thank you."

"No sweat," he said softly.

Kira wiped the tears with her shirt, but they wouldn't stop coming. She'd never felt so helpless. And the guilt ate her guts like a worm pushing through rotten soil. She clung to Jax's hand, brushing the rough skin with her thumb, contemplating whether his team would blame her for this.

But they couldn't possibly hate her more than she hated herself.

His sternum had been cracked open with a rusty screwdriver and a mallet, liquid fire poured into the cavity.

He opened his mouth to yell, or thought he did, but couldn't make a sound. Nothing worked the way it should. He knew where he was, though. In the speeding van, head in someone's lap, every bump in the road jarring his pain-racked body. A small, feminine hand held one of his tightly. Kira.

"Jax?"

He knew it was her, but he couldn't scent her anymore. Couldn't speak or move at all, not even to squeeze her fingers, let her know he was alive.

For how much longer?

Goddamn, he didn't want to go out like this. He struggled to breathe, thinking it shouldn't be this hard. When he'd been hit, he was certain the bullet had missed his lung. It had, right? He'd been shot before, and the wound should've healed with no problem.

Instead he lay as if dead, along for the ride, unable to communicate in the slightest. He was aware of Kira and a couple of other voices speaking to him in soothing tones, telling him that he'd be all right. He tried to take heart, to push back the encroaching fear, but wasn't entirely successful. Something was very wrong, besides the gunshot wound. The talking around him grew even more worried as the vehicle stopped and doors opened.

People were shouting. His body was jostled and he couldn't cry out.

Something hard slid underneath him. A backboard.

Then he was out of the van, being carried fast. Loaded into another transport. He remembered the helicopters and realized they must be at the hangar. Two hours to home.

And the truth flooded in-he wasn't going to make it.

It shouldn't be possible, but it was becoming a reality. His body was shutting down, like the lights in a house winking out one by one. He hung on as long as he could. Counted in his head, and when he lost count, tried to concentrate on the loud drone of the engines. Imagined the compound getting closer with every mile, whisking him to safety.

"Breathe, Jax! Come on, buddy!" Zan shouted next to his ear.

"Jax? Please, stay with us." Kira. He heard her tears. "Don't leave me."

He tried to obey. Really fucking tried.

Made it all the way to landing before their frantic calls began to fade. His last awareness was of being lifted, flying. Wishing he could see the stars, shift into his wolf, and run.

Make love to Kira.

And then it all vanished into mist.

"He's not breathing? Mac!"

Kira bailed out of the helicopter after the doctor. Zan and Kalen were already out, holding each end of the backboard, hurrying up the walk toward an entrance marked EMERGENCY. The other woman didn't answer or spare her a glance, just ran, shouting orders at the nurses and other medical personnel who met them at the double doors.

Heart pounding in fear, Kira rushed after them. She would've followed them all the way into the ER had strong arms not wrapped around her waist, hauling her back.

"You can't go in there, honey," Nick said, voice full of regret.

"Let me go!"

"Can't do that. He's in good hands, though, I promise."

"He needs me! Nick, please."

"I'm sorry." Gently, he guided her to a chair. "Come on, I'll wait with you."

"We all will," Aric declared, dropping into a seat. Obviously he and the others had handed off the two survivors they'd liberated from the NewLife building, but she hadn't been paying attention.

After a moment, she calmed herself enough to ask, "Are the two shifters okay?"

"They'll make it, physically. The rest, we'll see, but I think they'll pull through."

She nodded. "That's good."

The respite was brief and took her mind off Jax for only about three seconds. The team crowded into the waiting area, none of them willing to leave without word. Zan and Kalen walked back in from the OR, faces weary. A barrage of questions from the guys was met with little info, none of it encouraging.

"He wasn't breathing," Zan choked, dropping into a chair, head in his hands. "That's all I know."

"Jesus," Hammer mumbled in shock.

Aric responded by putting a hole in the wall with his fist and letting go a stream of profanity. The others just moped. Someone went for coffee.

Time passed. Kira wasn't sure how long it had been when Sariel strode into the room, heading straight for her. Jumping up, she launched herself into his arms. He caught her against his chest and enfolded her in his wings, and the dam broke. She sobbed in terror, babbling that she couldn't lose him.

"You won't, dearest." He placed a kiss on the top of her head. "I swear to you."

"H-how do you know?"

"I just do. Now dry those tears, or else your wolf is going to be treated to the lovely vision of a puffy, blotchy mate when he wakes up."

Pulling back, she managed a small laugh. "Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome. What are displaced princes for?"

It was a lame attempt at a joke, and she loved him for it. Wrung out, she let him tug her over to a chair. At Zan's urging, he fetched a box of tissues from the front desk-he was puzzled about their purpose at first-handed them over, and settled in beside her for what might prove to be a long wait.

It was worse than long. Interminable was a better word. Half the team was dozing when both Mac and Melina pushed through the double doors into the waiting area, but everyone immediately snapped to attention.

Dr. Mallory got to the point. "The two shifters are stable but still unconscious. Jax is also stable at the moment, and the bullet has been removed. But his condition is critical." She gave Kira a pointed look. "I'll need you to come with us."

"Of course." She rose on rubbery legs and followed the doctors. Whether either of them was ready or not, she had a suspicion that the moment of reckoning was at hand.

A sexy silvery-eyed wolf was about to become hers.

Chapter Fourteen

"Jax, open your eyes."

Don't want to. He preferred to keep sleeping, safe in his cozy cocoon. Besides, hers was the wrong voice. Not the one he loved.

Wait, loved? Ah, shit.

"Sweetheart, can you hear me? Come on, handsome. Let's see those peepers."

Kira. For her, he tried. His lids were like wet concrete, but he managed to crack them open a tiny bit. Her small form was leaning over him, blurry. But there. Holding his hand, stroking his brow. So good.

"I . . . can't smell you," he rasped.

Her touch stilled. "What?"

"He means his sense of smell is gone," Melina said. "He can't scent you."

"Oh. What do we do? How do we fix it?" She was so upset, his baby.

He couldn't comfort her. Couldn't move a damned muscle.

"This is undocumented territory, but I'd like to try something. Are you willing to let me make a small incision in your wrist? I can give you a local anesthetic." Obviously she was talking to Kira.

Wait a minute. Melina wanted to cut his angel? Why? Jax tried to growl but only a pathetic whine came out. His eyes closed again.




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