The Awakening Aidan - By Abby Niles Page 0,62

but the danger out here was more threatening. After gathering her in his arms and tucking her as close to him as possible, he sprinted across the beach and into the house. She made no noise, no movement. Her body limp.

As he carried her through the house, he used the light to take a quick inventory of her injuries. No broken bones that he could see. No gaping wounds. Minor scrapes on her arms and neck. Nothing surface. His throat tightened further, fear he hadn’t known a person was capable of gripping him.

When he reached the bedroom, he gently laid her on the middle of the bed, horrified at the labored way she’d started to breathe. He opened her robe and moaned. “No. No. No.”

Dark purple stained her torso. Internal bleeding.

There was nothing he could do. Nothing.

A pained groan came from her as her eyes fluttered open. Aidan crawled up beside her, brushing the wet strands from her face. Fear shone in her eyes as she looked up at him and she gasped for breath.

He shushed her, tears scalding the back of his. “Don’t you die on me.”

“Ai—” A gurgle, then more blood slipped out of the corner of her mouth.

Her struggle to speak almost undid him. He shot off the bed, tearing through the room desperate to find anything to help, knowing it was futile. A blow like this was fatal.

His eyes landed on her briefcase. Or was it?

Jaylin had said the red flash device was used to bring a half shifter’s latent shifter DNA to the surface during extreme injuries.

She’d thought she was going on a working trip. Had she brought it?

He stumbled forward, hand shaking as he undid the latch on the case. On top of the fake Biggerstaff file sat the device, along with her stethoscope, a tape recorder, paper, and pens. She’d been prepared to work.

He glanced at Jaylin lying helplessly on the bed, her chest fighting to just take a breath. This never would’ve happened if he hadn’t tricked her into coming here. She’d be healthy, full of life, not fighting for it—and slowly losing the battle.

Aidan looked back at the contraption. A new fear churned his gut, remembering his beast’s anger even with him in the next room away from the flash. What would happen if he were in the same room?

It was the only chance she had, though. Even if he called the mainland, it would be at least an hour before help arrived. She didn’t have that much time.

This was the only hope they had.

Device in his hand, he moved back to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. “Jaylin?”

When her eyes slowly opened and shifted toward him, he held up the instrument. “How do I use this?”

The fear in her eyes grew as her gaze darted between him and the device. She slightly shook her head.

“It’s the only way.” He took her hand. “Show me where to put it.”

She silently refused his request by clenching her hand closed.

“Show! Me!”

She turned her head away, staring in the opposite direction, again denying him the chance to save her. It infuriated him that she’d rather die than let him help. Aidan hurried around the bed and bent close to her face, curling a hand around one of hers and holding tight, as if that alone would save her.

“Y-you’re going to die.” He squeezed her hand as emotions clogged his throat, but he forced himself to speak. “Jaylin. Please. Live. I’ll walk away. You’ll never see me again. Just live. ”

Tears illuminated her brown eyes. One slipped from the corner and trickled down her temple into her hair. Slowly she opened her fingers and touched the area to the side of her left breast right under her arm. Then she held up two fingers.

“Twice?” He swallowed.

Once he was almost certain he could handle, but twice? They sent shifters out of the room when they used this thing. What if something happened to him after the first shock? What if his beast emerged before he could do the second shock? What if it turned its anger on Jaylin?

She squeezed his hand back. “I-t…o…k.”

It wasn’t okay, nothing about this was okay.

He looked around the room. He didn’t have long—he was either going to do this or let her die. And he sure as hell couldn’t do the latter. The wind howled outside, rain slammed against the windows. He went over and touched the window encasing the private balcony.

Double paned. Tempered. Not easily shattered.