Whispers of Darkness (The Deadwood Hunter Series Book 2)(2)By: Rachel M Raithby
The girl’s hand pressed gauze against Lincoln’s side, her other shakily wrapped a bandage around his middle.
“Can you handle that alone? Nice and tight, we really need to stop his bleeding and keep an eye on his breathing, he’s still really unstable. I’ll go help the girl.”
“Lexia,” she whispered so quietly he couldn’t quite catch her.
“Lexia, her name is Lexia,” she said in a firmer tone.
Caden stood with a nod and rushed to Lexia; he’d never seen someone so badly hurt and still living. As he worked on her battered and broken body his mind wandered back to the moment he'd first laid eyes on her. She'd stood there braced to fight holding that blood-stained knife of hers in a death grip, every inch of her body shook with the effort to stand and yet she held the blade perfectly still. He had no doubt in his mind that even in the state she was in, she’d have killed him in a flash. Those eerily gold eyes of hers glowed with power and strength; she would protect Lincoln and the girl to her death and it looked like she already had. Her whole body was spattered in blood, some of it her own; it ran freely from her wounds, pooling on the forest ground. It had felt like an eternity waiting for her to back down but she never did. She'd collapsed to the floor, her knife still clutched in her hand pointing right at him. Caden had run to help her but Lincoln's heart had stopped beating the moment she hit the ground. He’d prayed she used that will of hers to hold on while he saved his friend’s life; he had no idea what this warrior was to Lincoln but he was certain she loved him with all her heart.
He swore under his breath. "What?" the young girl whispered from Lincoln’s side.
"The bullet’s lodged in her bone and I really don’t want to dig it out in the middle of a forest." The girl looked across at her friend’s crimson-stained face, tears ran from her eyes onto Lincoln’s mucky skin, leaving trails in the smeared mud and blood. She looked up staring straight at him; he saw now the strength she had, the hell she must have gone through.
"Save her," she ordered.
"I'll try my best.” He set to work hacking into her flesh.
With both Lincoln and Lexia stable, Caden ran to where he’d left his car. Luckily the ground wasn’t very soft and he managed to maneuver his car through the forest. He jumped from the car and left it in park, pulled the back seats down, and with the help of the girl (Alice she said her name was) lay Lincoln and Lexia, unconscious, in the back of his car.
“Where are we going?” Alice asked him as she tried to keep Lincoln and Lexia from moving around as the car bumped across the rough forest.
“To my house in Rapid City, I have more equipment there; they both need... work.”
“Will it be safe? I mean, those people... those things… will they be able to find them?”
“You mean the Hunters?”
“I hope not,” he murmured as the car pulled onto the road and sped off at breakneck speed.
Lincoln drifted in and out of consciousness. Every time he came out of the heavy darkness, his mind slipped back in, pulling him under where he couldn't think. He thought he saw the green eyes of his friend Caden and heard a soft crying but he never heard Lexia. He searched desperately in his mind for her, but she wasn’t there in the darkness, she wasn’t there.
He opened his eyes for a second and stared at a white ceiling. He tried to move his head but his body wasn't working; his eyes drifted shut again.
He could hear cars... I’ve left the forest? Breathing deep through his nose, taking in the scents... Alice... her warm head rested against the side of his bed. She was crying; her body shook sending little tremors across his body.
And there beneath all the sharp disinfectant and the metallic blood... Lexia, My Wild Cat. Lincoln called her name, screamed for her but no sound left his dry parched throat and he went under again.
When he opened his eyes again, what felt like seconds later, he was still looking at the same ceiling but he could no longer feel Alice by his side and when he sat up he saw he was alone. Lincoln sat on the bed a little disoriented. His side ached, the thick bandage was stained pink from blood.