Page 28 of Truth or Lie

THIRTEEN

Leona

ISTOOD BETWEEN Jaxand Flynn’s reassuring bulk, feeling the minutes tick by like molasses as Beckett and Kam did whatever they were doing to try and calm Alex enough to sedate her. Not for the first time, I was struck by the alphas’ unyielding faith in Beckett’s ability to fix any given situation, no matter how badly screwed up it was.

Tension crackled off Nikolayev in waves, as he, too, awaited word. Unlike us, he had a direct line to whatever was happening inside the plane via his mating bond. As it did at odd moments, the utter unfairness of Kam’s situation hit me. We were bonded, but not really. Not when it counted.

Flynn put his arm around my shoulders and stroked me, soothing.

“They’ll take care of it,” Jax said. “Don’t worry.”

Nikolayev stiffened. A moment later, his chest rumbled with a warning growl and he headed for the metal steps leading to the door of the aircraft. My anxiety spiked.

He was halfway up when Kam appeared in the doorway. “Alex is down for the count, but Beckett’s water just broke,” he called down. “Doctor, we need you in here.”

Nikolayev broke into a run, taking the steps three at a time. Kam’s eyes widened in alarm, and he ducked out of the way just in time to avoid being bowled over.

“You gonna need help, doc?” Jax asked. “You’ve only got one gurney.”

The grim-faced doctor eyed the rolling cot. “Yes. Assuming she’s otherwise uninjured, if one of you can carry your alpha, we’ll put Mr. Beckett on the gurney. I should warn you, if this is a true rut, there’s not really much to be done for your pack member beyond the obvious.”

I had a pretty good idea of what was meant by ‘the obvious.’ We’d be facing that topic soon enough—but it needed to be a decision we made together.

Flynn followed the doctor and his orderly onto the plane. Once the way was clear, Kam jogged down to join us on the ground. Probably a good thing, since the last thing the others needed was more people underfoot inside the cramped interior of the jet.

“Alex calmed down enough that we were able to sedate her without anyone getting hurt,” Kam said quietly. “But Beckett’s labor just started two weeks early, and he’s bleeding.”

“Oh, no,” I whispered. All the talk of his pregnancy being high-risk had been yet another background worry in my mind, but I’d mostly managed to avoid thinking about the reality of the danger to him and his unborn pup. The idea that he might be bleeding out from a ruptured placenta less than a hundred feet away from us made bile rise in my throat.

“At least there’s qualified medical staff here,” Kam offered.

Nikolayev appeared with Beckett in his arms. Both of their faces were gray with strain. I held my breath as the pair descended the narrow rolling staircase, but Nikolayev never missed his footing. He made a beeline for the gurney and laid his mate on it. Beckett had rushed to the plane in the clothing he’d been wearing while on bed-rest. The thin pajama pants were soaked with clear fluid and tinged with blood, but thankfully not stained bright scarlet.

Please let him be okay, I sent to any deity that might be listening.Please let the pup be alive.

Flynn followed with Alex in his arms. The metal cuffs still hung from her wrists and ankles. I had a nasty feeling this was because we might need to restrain her again when we got her to wherever we were going. In no time, the nine of us were heading for the main house—the orderly pushing the gurney at a brisk pace while the doctor jogged alongside, checking Beckett’s pulse and blood pressure.

It wasn’t a short trek to get to the main house, but it wouldn’t have saved much time to try and use a car. Considering the difficulty of moving the patients in and out of a vehicle, it made sense to travel on foot, making use of the concrete walkways wending around the property. When we finally arrived at the palatial house, the doctor helped the orderly get the gurney up the low steps leading to the massive front doors.

Inside, he led the way to a large elevator, and we descended to the basement level. It was the first time I’d had cause to come down here, but it came as little surprise that Nikolayev had a pretty decent medical clinic tucked away inside his massive family home. I wondered if Irina had recovered in one of these small, white rooms after Nikolayev had rescued her from the UFNA branch of the Committee.

Nikolayev and the doctor disappeared into one room with Beckett. The orderly gestured Flynn to bring Alex into another and put her on the bed, where he immediately fastened the handcuffs to the metal bed frame. Jax, Kam, and I huddled outside the door, not wanting to be in the way given the room’s limited space.

“The physician will be in to take her vitals and draw blood as soon as he can,” the orderly—Vasiliev—told us. “Like he said before, there’s probably not much to be done medically. You, uh, might want to talk about other options, if that’s on the table. If you need help, we’re next door.”

He checked Alex’s cuffs to make sure they were secure, and then squeezed past us with a nod before disappearing into Beckett’s room. Once he was gone, I exchanged looks with Kam and Jax. We joined Flynn inside the modest room, and Jax closed the door behind us. Kam moved to take Alex’s cuffed wrist in his hand, his fingers on her pulse point. With his other hand, he peeled back her eyelids to check her pupils.

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