Alex took Lena’s hand and helped her up the hill. If he thought she’d let him, he’d carry her. When they reached the top, he could feel her resist, but he tightened his grip. He pulled her the last few feet to where he stood. The sharp twist of fear and guilt and anger at the ruin of her face eclipsed the burning throb of his wound. Somehow the smell of bruised honeysuckle that clung to her made the torn skin that much more devastating.
“It’s going to be okay,” he told her. “As soon as we get you healed.”
But would it?
She glanced back over her shoulder.
His eyes followed hers to where Jackson still stood behind them on the crest of the hill, gazing down. Alex wanted nothing more than to peel away the skin of the young agent’s face in retribution. He had one job. How could he have lost her?
Alex led her back to the tree and pressed her down in front of it, kneeling before her. He examined her face in the half-light and winced. Glancing back at Jackson, he growled again for the younger man to get over to them.
“Can you heal this?” He demanded of Jackson. “Really heal it this time?”
Jackson nodded without hesitation. “I’d have healed it last time if she hadn’t gone after you.”
Alex turned back to Lena. “I’d do it myself if I could.” The fact that he couldn’t bothered him more than he’d say. The way she tangled her fingers in his for a moment made it evident that his voice reflected his disappointment. The self-recrimination made his next comment come out as a rasp. “Hopefully Jackson won’t fuck this up, too.”
She shook her head. “I saw Lucas. I came after him. It wasn’t Jackson’s fault,” she managed to speak with a minimum of movement.
“No, just his responsibility.”
Alex rose, pressing his hand to the knife wound on his lower abdomen again. Jackson wouldn’t meet his gaze.
Guilty conscience, kid? He should feel guilty. He should feel damned lucky, too. If Lena had died, Alex would have carved his loss out of the Agent and left him to bleed out on the forest floor while trying to gather up his scattered body parts.
“Much as I hate to leave you in his care again, I’ve got to make sure our route to the rendezvous is secure and that there aren’t any more surprises in these woods.”
“Alex,” she protested, “you’re wounded, too.”
He looked back at her. The torn skin of her lower face oozed blood, and she had an enormous broken goose egg across her forehead where she’d been hit. Except for her eyes, her face was painted with dried and drying blood filled with debris. He shook his head.
“You have priority. I’ll be fine. I’ll be back soon and we can get you to the rendezvous. Once you’re there, you can take care of me yourself, if you want to.” Alex stalked away, moving through the darkening forest.
He moved back and forth, quickly and quietly. Their area of the forest secured, he headed back in a straight line. He swallowed, trying to push back the remains of the acrid near-panic in his throat. He couldn’t believe he’d nearly lost her.
He’d done everything right, even to the point of risking the loss of her affection. He had adapted to every change in circumstances, worked every scenario, before and after they’d set out. He had kept her protected from things he didn’t think she could handle yet, urged her to take on the things she needed to in order to grow into the powerful woman she could be. He’d achieved everything they’d set out to accomplish.
Except he hadn’t gotten to her first after Jackson lost her. Alex had managed to catch up to Jackson at the edge of the woods. It was Alex who had covered his back, pulling a knife after he’d run out of bullets to engage all three of Lucas’s soldiers who’d pursued them from the caravan. It was Alex who had urged Jackson on after Lucas and Lena, the distraction costing him the slash across the belly. Once he’d disposed of the soldiers, Alex had hauled ass to make it to her. And he’d been too late.
Watching from a distance as Lucas slammed her in the face and sent her in a crumpled heap across the clearing had nearly been his undoing. Too far away to do anything. Too far away to even make it there in time to engage Lucas. All he could do was run to her, mind blank and savage.
And now as he silently approached the clearing where he’d left them, Jackson’s voice snaked through the trees.
“—and I could go with you, help you build your own school, help you find more girls. There are more. There have to be. If they could discard some, there are more. And they need to be found. We can do it together. Stop listening to Alex. Don’t give him another opportunity to betray you. Everything out of his mouth is a lie. Everything.”
Alex felt a low throb of rage pulse at the base of his skull. Red washed forward and colored the forest in front of him. He might have charged forward, but for Lena’s response.
“No, he hasn’t lied to me. It’s hard for you to see, to understand, because you’re not like him. You can’t do whatever it takes and justify it and feed off of it. I can. I do. I know where I belong and what my role is.”
Alex enjoyed the exultant surge of emotion as she denied Jackson so much he almost missed her next quiet words.
“Even if it destroys me.” The calm certainty in her voice stopped him in his tracks.