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Dumbass, was the reply.
Chapter Forty-Three
It was three more weeks before Friday woke. Striker sat beside their bed going over reports that detailed the massive hunt underway to find him. Somehow, he’d managed to compromise his team during the op in La Paz. He wasn’t sure how he’d done it, exactly, and until they knew for sure, he’d confined himself to the caves.
Not that he cared. He wouldn’t leave his woman anyway. The air around them stirred, and Friday let out a tiny moan. She’d been doing that a lot the past few days, and they all thought it was a sign she was getting ready to wake. Striker put his computer tablet aside as he reached for her hand. The diamondback, who’d been curled on top of her stomach, raised its lazy head and stared at her face.
Her eyelashes fluttered as Striker held his breath.
She’s waking! the snake said.
Yeah. He smiled at the excitement in the rattler’s voice. He felt a little light-headed himself. Hours, he’d spent, staring at this woman, wishing he could climb inside her and fight the poison for her. He’d never felt more helpless in his life. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to let anything harm her, ever again. From now on, he was gonna stay glued to her side. Hell, he’d get her to invent a special protection suit. One she could wear twenty-four-seven. Because she was never getting hurt ever again. Not if he could stop it.
She let out another little moan as her eyes slowly opened. It was im
possible to breathe. She was coming back to him. It was enough to take a man to his knees in gratitude.
“Hey, bébé,” he said softy, “it’s good to have you back. You scared me. Don’ ever do that again.”
Her head turned slowly toward him, and she blinked several times. His world tilted at the sight before him. Instead of two blue eyes, there was only one. The other eye was yellow, with the distinct elliptical pupil of a snake.
“What is it?” Her voice was hoarse from lack of use.
He forced himself to breathe. “You’re beautiful.”
Her gaze was soft and unfocused. “Are you real? Or am I dead?”
“I’m real, and you are nowhere near dead.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips and felt her hand tighten in his.
“I’m not dead?” she whispered when he broke the kiss, searching his eyes for the truth. The eyes that were a match for hers. “Or dreaming?”
“This isn’t a dream, and you’re very much alive. I plan on keeping it that way, too.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “No more playing with poisons. You hear me? There’s gonna be hell to pay if you pull a stunt like that again.”
“Are you sure this is real?”
“You want me to pinch you?”
“What would that prove?” Her brow puckered in confusion.
“Trust me, you’re alive. The poison didn’t kill you, but everybody thinks you’re dead. We’re in the Red Zone, and nobody can get to you here. You’re safer than you’ve ever been.” He caressed her silken hair. “You’re free, bébé. No more CommTECH.”
Her eyes filled with unshed tears as she searched his face, the beginnings of belief and hope in her gaze. “Really?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you about something this important.” He rested his forehead on hers. “Don’t you ever try to leave me again, you hear?”
He felt her tremble, and her hand came up to cup his head. She was weak, but she was alive, and he’d make sure she got stronger. She was his first priority. The reason he’d found for living in this strange new time.
“Did you get the antidote to me in time? Is that what saved me?”
“No.” He leaned back to look at her, hesitating because he wasn’t quite sure how to tell her she’d changed. Not only changed, but become like him.
No, like us. She’s our mate.
Not helping!
“Whatever it is, just tell me.” Her voice shook, and he was instantly angry with himself for scaring her. “I need to know what happened. I need to know this isn’t a hallucination brought on by the poison.”
He let out a sigh. There was no easy way to say this. “The handbag bit you when you slipped into unconsciousness in the cell.”
