Page 9 of King

“Joey,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she rushed to his side.

A tall man with a commanding presence stood at the end of the bed with a chart in his hands. His sharp eyes, as hard as steel, flicked toward her.

“Who are you?” Slade growled protectively over his patient, his voice like gravel.

“She says she’s Joey’s...aunt,” King answered before she could speak, his tone careful.

“Amara?” Jessie sniffed, bringing her head from Jake’s chest.

“Yes,” Amara replied to Jessie, but she looked at the man at the end of the bed staring at her. She didn’t have time for pleasantries. “Does he need blood?”

“You know her?” King asked Jessie, but Amara ignored them.

Jessie stepped back, her arms folded tightly, and exchanged a tense glance with King. "Yes, but not well. I thought you were in Mexico," she muttered, her confusion evident in her tone. “How did you even know he was in trouble?"

Amara’s eyes went to Joey’s pale face as she answered, her voice low but laced with authority. “I’ll explain everything after he’s safe. Right now, there’s no time for questions. Does my nephew need blood or not?”

The man, who she figured was the doctor but looked nothing like any doctor she had seen, nodded gravely. “Yes. He’s lost significant blood. We’ve been searching every available database for a compatible donor. His blood type is extremely rare.”

“RH null,” Amara said calmly, brushing her fingers gently across Joey’s brow before stepping toward the doctor. Her gaze was fierce and unflinching. “Where do you want to do this?” She rolled up her sleeve without hesitation.

The doctor froze, confusion etched deep into his face. “I’m sorry, but because of his type, he can only receive?—”

“RH null blood,” Amara interrupted sharply. “I know. BecauseIto have RH null blood.”

The room fell silent, tension rippling like a crackling storm. The doctor’s frown deepened as he stared at her, his disbelief plain. “That’s... impossible. There are fewer than fifty known cases in the world. It’s almost unheard of for family members to share it.”

“Well,” Amara said, her eyes blazing, “consider this your miracle exception. I’m his aunt, and we don’t have time for a medical conference. You can analyze me later if you want to write a paper about it.” She stepped closer, her posture daring him to argue. “But Joey doesn’t have time for bullshit.”

“We still have to test your blood.” He wasn’t easily swayed, but she saw a spark of respect in his handsome gaze.

Amara’s patience finally snapped. Her eyes flashed with a fury born of desperation and love. “Does Joey have time for that?” Her voice cracked, her composure teetering on the edge. “I would bleed out for him without a second thought. Take my blood now, or you can explain to everyone why you stood here arguing while he died.”

King stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “You heard her, doc. Do it.”

The man nodded as he stared at Amara. “I’m Dr. Slade Buchanan.” He said, his voice hard as his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Someone did this to him, expecting him not to survive. I don’t know you. Joey is my patient, and if you have lied to me, I will kill you myself.”

“She isn’t lying.” A new voice entered the room, and they all turned to look at the door. “And she’s right. Time is running out for him.”

Amara frowned as she stared at a man with white swirling eyes staring straight at her. He gave her a nod and then looked toward Joey with a frown.

“What the hell are you doing here?” King’s voice drew her attention as she looked at his shocked face as he stared at the newcomer.

“Figured you guys are going to need help on this one.” He said, then glanced back at Joey. “Hurry, doc, he’s fading fast.”

Amara’s breath caught as a strange sense of familiarity tugged at her mind. She studied him intently—his sharp features, his calm, almost otherworldly demeanor, but the memory eluded her. Her instincts screamed caution, but something deeper told her he wasn’t here as an enemy.

CHAPTER 5

Daniel, walking into the hospital triage, wasn’t even remotely on King’s bingo card. He had vanished months ago, chasing truths only he seemed to understand. If Daniel was here, it wasn’t a casual visit. This meant something serious was brewing. Trouble had its claws in Joey, and whatever had drawn Daniel from the shadows was big. Bigger than King wanted to admit.

His gaze flicked from Daniel’s intense, swirling white eyes to Slade, who was ushering Amara out of the room with purposeful urgency. She glanced over her shoulder. Her expression of fear made him want to protect her. King watched as her retreating form disappeared through the doorway. Shaking those feelings aside, he turned his focus back to the still, too-pale figure of Joey lying on the hospital bed. The kid didn’t stir; his breathing was shallow, and his skin looked like ice. A sick knot twisted in King’s gut. Joey wasn’t just hurt. He was hanging to life by a fragile thread.

King turned back to Daniel, who stood silently, watching him with those eyes that always seemed to see too much. The weightof unspoken truths hung between them, heavy and sharp. King stepped forward, extending his hand, his grip firm and resolute.

“Good to see you, Daniel,” he said, his tone genuine.

Daniel grasped his hand with a strength that matched King’s. A flicker of respect resonated between them.

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