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Fletch watched, trying not to hover over Helen as she sat on the couch while Jensen took two vials of blood from her.
“We’ll take this now then another vial twenty-four hours after your shot to see how your body’s reacting. Currently, do you feel your bear at all?”
Helen closed her eyes, sitting still and silent for a long moment before shaking her head. A tear leaked past her closed lid.
“No. I thought I felt a twinge when I first saw Fletch, but nothing since. I know she’s there.” She fisted her hand and held it against her stomach. “But there’s no connection. Sometimes, I get these sensations, but it’s hard to explain. I sense her, but I don’t feel her.”
“I get that,” Jensen assured her while he pulled a vial out of the black medical bag he’d brought with him. Next, he freed a syringe and prepared for the injection. “As bears, our animal sides have never been suppressed. The hunters are changing that. If I can figure out how to undo that, then I might be able to create something that will be able to prevent it from happening in the first place. Then I can work with some of the other species doctors to replicate it for them. Think of it like a human vaccine. We could make it impossible for them to suppress our animal sides. It will give us one hell of an advantage.”
“They’d find another way,” Helen stated, wrapping her arms around herself. “Until we’re all dead. They won’t stop. Not until every shifter has been killed.”
“No,” Fletch challenged, hating the lack of emotion in his mate’s voice. It was as if some part of her accepted their demise. “They don’t get to win. We’re bigger than that. Better. Look at you. The years they held you. The ways they tried to break you. They failed. They’ll continue to fail. These attacks allowed two bear dens to realize the other existed. There are new arrivals from the Washington den every day. They’re coming here, to the Holloways, to follow their alpha, Laramie’s mate, Emersyn. Hunters tried to tear us down, to make us smaller and look how we’ve grown. We stand. We fight. Because we don’t know any other way.”
Helen stood and walked into his arms.
“Okay,” she whispered as if he’d given her a call to arms. “I’ll remember that when we’re in the field.”
“What?” Milo asked, glancing between Fletch and Helen.
“The next group that goes out, Helen and I plan to be with them,” Fletch said flatly, his gaze fully on Jensen.
Jensen’s jaw tensed briefly. “Let’s see how she handles this treatment first.”
“My mate goes with me. Milo and I will protect her.”
“Damn straight,” Milo agreed, backing Fletch up. “Besides, she’s already proved how fierce she is. Hell, she got herself out of that hellhole before we could even get to her. If it wasn’t for her, we might have looked in another direction first. There were several places in that area that were marked as prime locations. She saved those who’ve survived just as much as we did. God knows, we’ve been too late everywhere else we’ve gone.”
Jensen clenched his jaw again. “Let Brock know your plans. Laramie and Koby have put him in charge of coordinating rescue attempts. At least, wait another forty-eight to seventy-two hours so we can see how she reacts to this first does.”
“She’s right here,” Helen quietly reprimanded Jensen, and Fletch felt another surge of pride. “Besides, I thought you weren’t worried about side effects.”
“That doesn’t mean they can’t happen. As much as I’d like, I can’t plan for everything. Do I want you to stay close because I don’t want anything else to happen to you? Yes, but I’m not your mate. All I’m asking is for a few more days. Can you give me that?”
“My mate understands those are my choices to make,” Helen snapped, and Fletch dropped a kiss atop her head to let her know he agreed. Milo stepped a little closer, offering his full support, as well. Jensen said nothing, but tension poured off him.
“You’re not responsible for the attacks,” Helen whispered as she stared at Jensen. “Not you. Not Laramie. Not any of the Holloways. It’s like you said. As hard as you try, you can’t plan for everything. Attacks happen. Sometimes, we win. Sometimes, we don’t. I won. I’m here. Others didn’t. My sister is still out there somewhere. I hope she’s fighting every day to survive. I hope we find her. I hope I’m there when we do.”
Jensen rolled his head on his shoulders, flexed his hands a few times, but still didn’t say anything.
“I’ll give you a few more days,” Helen said. “But I won’t be sitting around while I wait. I want to see the women you brought out of that hell with me, and I want to know who you’ve got in that cabin you’re trying to pull information out of.”
“You can see any of the women not still in critical condition,” Jensen finally agreed.
“Did you check the area I told you about?”
Jensen nodded, but Milo was the one to answer her.
“There was no one in them.”
“I know there were at least two women in those pits the day I made my way out,” Helen assured them.
“They weren’t there when we went back,” Milo shared.
“How many made it out?”
Helen leaned into Fletch as she asked her question, as if she knew she’d need his support when the answer came.
“We were able to get thirty out, but twelve didn’t make it. Some died in the clearing. Some on the way here. Some after we got them here. The conditions…” Jensen paused, and Fletch saw the toll the deaths were taking on Jensen. It worried him. Hell, it worried all of them. “Of the remaining eighteen, six aren’t expected to make it. Three are still touch and go, and the remaining nine are in various states of recovery. Physically speaking. Mentally…” There was another longer pause before Jensen turned and walked across the room, shoulders tense, hands fisted at his sides. “Some of them may never recover from what they lived through.”
