GhostWalkers 10 - Samurai Game

she know about it, she actually had some in her possession.
    Medic wants to know if there’s arterial bleeding
.
    Not that I can see. I think there might be internal bleeding
.
    Roger that
.
    There was another short silence. She realized he was communicating with someone else.
    Keep him talking, try to make him stay with you. Has he responded to you verbally?
    No
. Thorn felt frantic. She could feel him slipping further from her. She knew the pathway to Ryland Miller, so she didn’t need to include Sam, but as long as she was in his mind, she could monitor his brain function.
He’s slipping in and out
.
    He’s strong
. The voice was utterly calm.
He’s a soldier. He’ll respond to commands. Talk to him. Force him to stay with you
.
    Thorn framed Sam’s face with her hands and pressed her forehead against his. “Sam, listen to me. They’re coming for us and we won’t have much time. I will not show affection to you in public, in the way Westerners do. In my family, courtship means nothing.”
    His lashes fluttered and she found herself looking into his dark eyes. She was fairly certain Ryland had meant she was supposed to bark commands at Sam to keep him alert, but their connection was far more elemental, far more primal,and he responded to her instinctively—or she liked to think so. In any case, she had his attention.
    “Only a proposal of marriage is treated with the utmost respect. If my brother doesn’t cut off your head and accepts such an outrageous suggestion, you will be considered family and must treat my brothers in the same manner. Such an arrangement is not taken lightly in our family. You mustn’t mention courtship when we are back with the others.”
    She pressed her mouth against his. “And no more kissing.”
    For one moment, her heart nearly stood still when she swore his lips curved beneath hers, the lightest of movements, but then he was fading again. Panic welled up. “Don’t you
dare
die on me, soldier,” she snapped, forcing a crisp, sharp command into her voice. “Open your eyes and look at me, Sam.”
    His eyelashes fluttered and he gave a wheezing gasp. She was losing him. The helicopter and medic were going to be too late. Thorn swore under her breath and once again leaned into him.
    “Don’t leave me. I need you.” She choked the words out, horrified that they might be true. She barely knew this man and yet she knew him far more intimately than anyone else in the world. She’d been inside his mind. They fit, like two pieces of a puzzle. He accepted who she was, that elusive woman who stood quietly inside the warrior. He treated her with respect—as an equal. He hadn’t hesitated to go into battle with her and he hadn’t checked to make certain she was doing her part. The world couldn’t lose this man. He was something very special.
    He’s crashing. He’s crashing now
. She kept the edge of panic from her voice, sending the message with utter calm while inside she felt herself shattering.
    There was that small silence and then the voice came—every bit as steady as hers.
Use another Zenith patch if you have it. Just one
.
    Her breath caught in her throat and for the first time she hesitated.
That could make him bleed out faster if he’s bleeding internally
.
    It will force the blood to his brain and keep him from brain damage and buy us the time. Lily will operate when she gets there. Just do it
.
    Lily Whitney—Peter Whitney’s daughter. Did she dare trust her as Sam did? Lily had been the one to develop the second-generation Zenith drug. Was she experimenting with her new drug on Sam? Was she like her father? Did she consider Sam expendable, or was she really trying to save his life?
    She ran one caressing finger down his face, took a breath, and made her decision.

C HAPTER 6

    T horn held Sam’s hand and brushed the hair from his face as the helicopter approached. She ached inside, the tension growing as the helicopter landed and the occupants spilled out. Several men raced to set up a tent, while two more and a woman approached her. She let go of Sam, slowly getting to her feet, aware of every weapon she carried, most concealed now. One man carried a litter while the other paced alongside of him, hands free, his eyes not on Sam, but on her.
    Her stomach fluttered, but her nerves held steady. This man was her guard. Tall, red hair, solidly built, it was nearly impossible to ignore him. First had come Sam’s warning and then Ryland Miller, no doubt, had