“What’s wrong, Paul?” Javier continued.
“Brilliant fieldwork. He would have bled out, but someone repaired the artery; I just can’t see how.” Paul narrowed his gaze, stepping closer to Kane and actually crouching down to peer upward toward his abdomen and chest.
“There’s a definite wound site, the artery spliced together in some way.”
The darkness gathering in Javier’s eyes disappeared, and he flashed Rose a smile. “You saved your man, didn’t you? What exactly did you do?”
Paul pushed Kane’s shirt out of the way. “Clean cut. This is where he went in . . .” He broke off as Javier’s words penetrated. He blinked rapidly as if coming back from a great distance. Very slowly he stood, regarding Rose with awe. “You did this? How? You have to tell me what you did.” Excitement made his voice shake. “You know you saved his life. He would have bled out in minutes.”
Kane must have sensed her reticence, because he reached out and took her hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her knuckles. The small gesture comforted her. She shrugged, trying to look casual. They thought they knew about protecting themselves from Whitney, but she’d been under the scrutiny of cameras and microphones nearly all of her life. She knew what it was like to live under a microscope. It had become obvious, at a very early age, that each of the girls Whitney was experimenting on needed to hide as many of their abilities from him as possible.
She thought she’d have the chance to learn trust slowly—with just Kane. She hadn’t counted on his family. His team, with the exception of Paul, had grown up together, and Kane trusted all of them. He expected her to do the same. Panic hovered close. She could barely breathe.
You can do this, sweetheart. You don’t have to answer questions. This is your home. There are no expectations.
His voice caressed her. She forced her head up and looked into his eyes. She could live there. The way he looked at her—as if she was his entire world—it was a heady, potent experience, one she didn’t entirely trust. But she wanted to trust him. She wanted this to work. When she made up her mind to do something, she committed 100 percent. She wasn’t going to wimp out now.
“Rose, please,” Paul’s voice trembled with excitement.
“This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen and—seriously—the closest thing to what I can do. I’ve never met anyone like me.”
She heard the loneliness—the idea that he could be a freak of nature. All of them battled with being “different.” They always would. She could see how isolated Paul must have felt growing up. His father was a big man, a man who was disciplined and understood violence. Paul was just the opposite—a natural-born healer with tremendous empathy for those around him. His father probably had tried to understand him, but how could he? The boy was sensitive, and the idea of killing had to be abhorrent to him.
In some ways, even among the GhostWalkers, Paul was still isolated. He wasn’t a soldier by choice. He was far too empathetic to kill. He was a healer, a poet, a man whose very soul cried out for gentleness, yet he was surrounded by extremely violent men. She could see both Kane and Javier were protective of him, but they didn’t understand him.
“How? You have to tell me how.”
While she could do some extraordinary things, she wasn’t quite as empathetic. She made a good soldier and she knew she did. Paul seemed a little lost. She looked from him to Javier and Kane. These men had accepted the boy into their world—their family. They offered him their loyalty and complete acceptance, which he obviously needed. He would give the same back to them tenfold.
If it’s easier, Rose, I can take Javier into the other room.
She took a breath and shook her head. She suddenly found she wanted to be a part of them as well. She wanted that same acceptance. If she became one of them—like Paul had become one of them—Javier would give her the same loyalty he gave his family members. She wanted his respect and his protection, for her and for Sebastian. It was difficult to let go of her fears—she had so many—but she’d always believed in facing her fears.
“I’m able to visualize in my head what’s going on in someone’s body under extreme circumstances.” She chewed nervously on her lower lip, trying to find the words to describe how the talent manifested itself. “I feel heat in my fingertips first. And then my palms. Eventually my hands get so hot it feels as if they’re burning.”
Paul nodded. “The nerves are raw, and the heat starts running up your arms.”
Rose’s gaze jumped to him. He understood. He actually understood the manifestation. They smiled at each other. “The first time it happened, I was seven, and one of the girls, Thorn, stopped breathing. We all loved her so much. I was panic-stricken. We all were. Whitney had just left the room, and Thorn suddenly dropped to the floor. She’d been defying him, and he’d used electric shock on her. I ran to her, and my hands burned. I knew I had to . . .”
“Touch her. Put your palms on her,” Paul interrupted.
Rose forgot everyone else in the room. She nodded, her heart pounding hard. “It was more instinct than anything else. Once I touched her, I could see her heart wasn’t pumping. It had stopped. I could see it in my head.”
“And in response, you felt the electrical current needed to jump-start her,” Paul said, “running through your own body. It’s as if our bodies provide what’s missing from those hurt or injured in some way. I always refer to it as psychic healing.”
“How does it work?”
“I don’t know. I’ve tried studying what happens to me when I run across someone damaged. Each response is different. I see the patient in colors. Is it like that for you?”
She shook her head. “Not really. When I lay my palms on their skin, I see inside their bodies, not through my eyes but in my head, as if skin to skin, I absorb them into me.”
Kane’s fingers tightened around her, startling her, drawing her attention. She looked at him, almost afraid of what she’d see. Seeing inside someone was a strange, freaky experience. Having her own body react to theirs was almost an intimacy, a bonding between the two bodies, hers providing whatever the other needed. She didn’t tell anyone if she could help it and she never elaborated on what happened—she didn’t want to think about what happened. It was frightening and exhilarating. It was also very, very painful.
Her eyes met Kane’s. There was nothing but awe. Respect. Love. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she swore her knees went weak. He had a way of looking at her. Hungry predator. Intense desire. Amazing, absolute devotion. All the emotions were there for her, and he didn’t try to hide them. It was always a little difficult for her to believe he could feel those things for her, but she was trying.
“You saved my life.” Kane brought her hand up to his mouth. “Didn’t you?”
She shook her head. “I gave you a chance. I’m not adept at healing. I can only do it in a crisis. I managed to repair the severed artery, but I wasn’t certain it would hold, so I actually held it together until we got to the airfield. They’d set up for surgery right there. The doctor who did the surgery fixed everything else as well. The bullet ricocheted around in there and did a lot of damage. You were in surgery over three hours, and they nearly lost you twice, Kane.”
“He would have died in the helicopter if it wasn’t for you,” Javier said. “We’re all very grateful to you.”
Rose was so startled, she actually took a step back. Javier seemed to disappear and then just emerge from the wall itself. She put a hand to her throat, shocked at the way he was looking at her as well. She had gone from potential enemy to reserved acceptance. She was grateful she was on his good side.
“I don’t know what happens,” she admitted. “My body takes over my brain and just acts. I barely remember what I did.”