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“She needs blood?” He gives a tight nod. “Okay. I think we risk it. Put in at least one of those bags.”
Logan’s brows crunch together. “What if it’s Claudia’s blood? Or another beta?”
I clap him on the shoulder. “She was given someone else’s blood for fucking years, Logan, and she still presented as an omega, our omega.” My fingers tighten. “Besides, if you don’t do this, she could die, right?”
His jaw tenses, and he gives a tight nod. “Right.”
“So fucking do it, man. I’d rather have Sadie as a beta than not at all. All of us would.”
Another nod and then he’s moving. He grabs the blood bags and preps it for the transfusion, finding a new needle and carefully inserting it into her skin into the same place the last needle was. His motions are sure and precise. Not taking any chances with our girl. The bag hanging from the long metal pole by the chair is clear, definitely not blood. Logan unhooks it and hangs the blood bag in its place. We both watch as it drips into our girl.
I hold my breath. It’s not like I expected an immediate reaction, but I think I was hoping for something. My fingers are still twined with hers, as Logan packs up the rest of the blood. “We’re gonna have to move her. We need to get her to the hospital.”
I nod without questioning him, tucking my gun in its holster and scooping her slight weight into my arms, cradling her against my chest. Fuck, she feels lighter. Hollowed out. Like a dried out husk of herself.
He grabs the bag and holds it up higher, to let the liquid life flow into our girl even as we move. There’s still the sounds of gunshots, of shouting, but we can’t stay here. “Fuck,” Logan curses. “I really wish we had one more person with us who had a fucking gun.”
“We don’t have time to wait,” I remind him.
He heaves a deep breath and nods. “Right. Yeah. We need to get her to the hospital.”
Logan leads the way to the door. He sets down the cooler of blood and pauses with his hand on the doorknob, tilting his head to listen. Then he yanks the door open and sticks his head out before glancing back at me. “Clear.”
We make our way back the way we came, as quickly as we can. “We’re at the stairs,” I murmur into my mic. “Should be out in less than two. We need to get her to the hospital immediately.”
“Got it,” Maddox replies. “On our way to cover you. When you get to the car, don’t wait for us. Take it and go. We’ll follow.”
Logan lets out a sound of relief, still holding the blood bag over Sadie’s body, making sure there’s a steady drip flowing into her. I swear she looks better already, but I think I’m just fooling myself. I just want her to be better so badly.
Logan once again pauses at the door to the first floor, head tilted, listening. There’s still the faint sounds of gunfire, but Swift must have led them away from us, giving us a chance to get out without running into anyone. That doesn’t mean there isn’t an army of guards on the other side of this door.
“Ready?” Logan breathes, hand tight on the door.
I heft Sadie up higher in my arms and nod. “Ready.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Logan sets the blood bag on Sadie’s stomach, and tugs his gun from his holster. “Run straight for the car,” He demands. I open my mouth to tell him he should take our girl. He’s the medical professional, after all, but he’s already pulling open the door and barreling out, gun first.
I’m right on his heels, bypassing him when he draws up short to fire his gun toward a couple of guards running toward. “Heading for the exit,” I pant out.
“Its clear,” Swift says back, and I have to fight the surprise that he’s even remotely paying attention to our coms. Usually in a situation like this, he’d be so deep in his killing, in his bloodlust, that he’s unresponsive until everyone is dead. But then this situation is unique.
The precious cargo in my arms has made it so.
Maddox and Luca pound into the room we entered the building through. Their eyes focus on Sadie for a second, relief plain in both their faces as they take her in, but I don’t stop, heading right for the door and pushing outside, knowing they’ll protect my back and help me get her out of here.
Swift is waiting on the other side, grinning and covered in blood. He doesn’t have guns in his hands, but knives, dripping red. His smile falters the slightest bit when he sees her pale face, but he doesn’t hesitate to turn and take off in front of me, taking point and drawing gunfire to him. Crazy reckless bastard.
I fucking love him.
My lungs are burning and the muscles of my arms trembling by the time our SUV comes into view. I can hear my pack behind me, hear them fighting the last of the guards. It would have probably been a better idea to have an alpha carry her. They’re stronger and faster than I am. But there’s no way in hell I’ll let my body fail her now, not when we’re so damn close to the car. Not when we’re so damn close to losing her.
“Almost there, heartbreaker. Hang on. We’re going to make sure you’re okay,” I murmur to her. Letting out a breath as I reach the vehicle. I’ve just slid her into the back seat when a concussive boom radiates out from the building we were just in and a legit fireball pierces the sky. The ground under my feet quakes and I stumble, catching myself on the open door, before spinning to see the building go up in flames.
“Didn’t feel like waiting until we were farther away?” Logan growls at Swift, who laughs and shrugs.
“I told you I’d blow it as soon as we were all clear. I waited even longer than that until we got Cherrybomb in the car.”
I mean, he warned us.
