Cat’s Lair

Almost before he was seated, the helicopter was in the air, turning in a wide circle back toward town and the hospital. Jake was on the radio, calling ahead for an operating room and doctors he trusted.

“I know it hurts like fucking hell, Kitten,” Eli whispered, his head bent to hers, his mouth against her ear. “I know you’re suffering and it feels easier to let go. I’m asking you not to. I’m telling you I need you. For me. You have to live, do you hear me, baby? I need you. I don’t want to do this without you.”

He didn’t give a damn if he was baring his soul to her. Hell, it was the raw truth. He couldn’t live without her. He hadn’t been alive until she came into his world. Her laughter had brought him to life. Damn her, she wasn’t going to leave him alone now that she was wrapped so tightly around his heart.

She moistened her lips again. I hear you, Eli, she whispered. Or did she whisper it? Did he hear her soft whisper in his mind? Had he managed to find a way to connect them? If so, he wanted to grab hold with both fists and hold her so close there was no way for her to slip away.

The helicopter landed on the pad on the roof of the hospital. The gurney was waiting, just as Jake had instructed. Eli was reluctant to place her body on it, knowing they would take her from him, but he had no choice. He ran with the gurney, his hand hard around hers, his eyes on hers, demanding. Forcing her compliance.

She kept her eyes open, but there was so much pain he felt sick. She was so cold he felt her slipping away. Her pulse beneath his seeking fingers was thready and weak. Don’t leave me, baby. Stay for me. I need you. Need you so much.

She was gone. They took her through double doors, forcing him to stay back. He felt her slip away from him. Felt the breath leave her body. Felt the moment her heart stopped beating and the pulse went quiet in her body. He felt her leave him. He knew he wasn’t making it up when he heard the voices shouting instructions, all a calm, but frantic fight for her life. He almost lost it, shoving at the two men who stepped in front of him, but Jake was there, one restraining hand on his arm.

“Let them do their job, Eli,” Jake advised. “Both surgeons and their team are well aware of what she is.”

“She’s pregnant. I know she is. I didn’t tell them.” Eli shoved both hands through his hair in agitation. “Maybe a month.”

Jake immediately approached one of the two men who had stopped Eli from entering the surgery rooms. The man turned and rushed through the double doors.

“They’ll take care of it,” Jake assured again.

He’d been there with Emma. The same waiting room. He remembered standing in front of the window, his world bleak and gray. Waiting to know. Waiting to hear if she was alive. He’d prayed for the first time in his life. He knew what Eli was feeling, a gut-wrenching sorrow. An agonizing fear. Terror that the one person who made up his world could be taken from him.

Eli was grateful Jake was there, but he couldn’t talk. He needed quiet. He needed to find the invisible thread that he’d made psychically with Catarina. No one had come to tell him she was dead, so they had to have got her breathing again. He would know if she tried to fade away again, and he would do everything in his power to stop her. She had to love him that much. Enough to endure whatever was necessary in order to stay with him.

He wouldn’t survive her loss. Not intact. It was impossible. She’d made her way into his heart. Snuck in when he wasn’t looking. It was impossible to be with her and not fall deeply, madly in love with her. But that hadn’t been enough. She’d taken his soul.

His throat felt shredded. Raw. Aching. He didn’t even know why. His eyes burned and his body ached, especially his chest. He glanced at his reflection. A man stood there. A stranger. His thick chest was streaked with blood. He wore no shoes, only a pair of soft blue jeans that set low on his hips. His hair was wild. His face was swollen from multiple cuts and bruises and his chest had rake marks down the heavy muscles. His eyes… his eyes had gone a dark gold, all sorrow. All fear.

He’d all but forgotten Cordeau and his lieutenants had tortured him before he’d gotten free. It didn’t matter now. The nurses and the one doctor who approached him fell back when he swept his cold gaze over them. He knew he scared others there in the small waiting room, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but keeping Catarina alive.

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