you control the bleeding with pressure? Is it slowing?”
“Yes.”
“So far, so good. Use a flashlight to see if his pupils are evenly dilated and reactive.”
Con’s beautiful brown eyes held hers in a wordless embrace while she checked his pupils. The moment she withdrew the light, his eyelids floated down. He grunted and opened them again. He looked like a little boy stubbornly fighting sleep.
Her stomach clenched. She could not stop to think about the fact that she’d nearly lost him. Later. She’d deal with the ramifications later. “They are.”
“Is he pale or clammy? How’s his pulse?”
“He is pale, not ghostly white, though.” She placed two fingers on Con’s wrist and counted. “Strong pulse. About seventy.”
“A little fast for him, but not bad.” Grady sighed, his relief palpable. “If you have supplies, disinfect the laceration and fasten butterfly bandages across it. Place an adhesive bandage over the top. That’ll hold it securely. Keep him quiet. Make him rest, or his condition could worsen. Lots of luck with that.”
Con yawned, and his long, dark eyelashes again fluttered down. Again, he battled them open.
“Actually, he’s sleepy. Is that bad?”
“One hundred percent normal. Plus, he’s been running on pure adrenaline. Now that he’s down, he’s crashing. Usually, he’d handle it without missing a step, but combined with a knock to the noggin, it will temporarily scramble his reflexes. Sleep is the best thing for him.”
She watched Con determinedly fighting drowsiness. “Try telling him that.”
“I hear ya.” She heard the grin in Grady’s voice. “Unconscious is the only way to keep him out of trouble. As long as you can easily rouse him, it’s okay. Wake him briefly every hour for the first four, then every two hours. Hopefully, we’ll have you out of there before then. Questions?”
“No. I’ve got it.”
“I don’t doubt it. Hang tough, kiddo. I’ll turn you over to Command, now.”
“Sugarplum Fairy?” Aidan’s smooth, deep voice said. “What happened?”
“Co—the Nutcracker fought one of the robbers and they went over the balcony.” She squeezed her eyes shut against the terrible sight. Relived the terror. The anguish. She gulped. Keep it together. Con needs you more than ever. “From the third floor.”
Aidan whistled. “That boy was always damn lucky.”
She turned her back on Con and whispered. “He’s going down for the count, though. And the robber boss is getting impatient about the chopper.”
“Don’t worry. Con filled me in on his plan while he was securing the beauty shop. We’re going to play a recording of a chopper descending over the loudspeaker, and lower a floodlight from the roof, wired at the proper angle. With the storm limiting visibility to a few feet, it should fake ’em out for a while. The negotiator is patched in, and he’ll take over with Tony. Are you in a secure location?”
“As secure as anywhere in this blasted mall. We have a gun now, though.” Not that Con was in any shape to use it. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Her stamina was wearing thin. “I almost forgot. The robbers are moving the hostages to the multiplex.”
“Ten-four we’re on it. Stay hidden. Send me a radio check every hour. Take care of yourself and the Nutcracker.”
“That’s the plan.”
Aidan laughed. “You sound exactly like him. Over and out.”
Con had finally lost the battle with sleep. His breathing was slow and even, his skin bleached under the dark beard stubble. The cut had nearly stopped bleeding, seeping slightly under the pad.
She let him rest while she ran out to the carnage at the tree, carrying two comforters. The short nap would do him good. Now that Con was safe, and her rage had faded, she was obligated to give aid to Glacier Eyes. Leaving him to die of shock was more than her conscience would bear. She couldn’t afford to examine too closely what she might have done had Con died. She liked to believe her morals would have overridden her savage, primitive instincts. Instincts she hadn’t even realized she possessed.
Bailey jolted to a stop. Yes, she had known. On a subconscious level, she’d realized a slumbering dragon lived inside her. She had battled for years to keep it asleep. Because if she couldn’t control it…what then? The fear, the memories of her parents screaming at one another, tearing each other apart emotionally, had kept the dragon in chains. Unconsciously, she’d followed her mother’s example and enslaved her emotions. Maintained control at all costs. The dragon had always been something to fear, to avoid. To slay.
Con’s wise advice to