Aiden's Charity

Chapter Two

“She’s your mate, she can only accept your blood.” The doctor hastily prepared for the transfusion as her assistant stitched the incision on Charity’s abdomen.

The pale skin was smeared with blood, too much blood. It had run in slow rivulets down her abdomen, smearing her thighs, and the smooth bare flesh between them. He had felt her weakening seconds before he reached camp, felt the fight that had always been so much a part of her slowly drain from her fragile body and knew he was losing her. She was dying in his arms.

His jaw bunched as he fought the anger surging through him. He turned his face from her, staring at the side of the tent that held the field hospital. If he watched her, looked at her lying there so pale and helpless, he didn’t know if he would be able to contain his rage.

He had been warned of what was to come, though he had given little credence to the Breeds’ declaration of psychic abilities to the point they claimed to possess them. He had scoffed at their knowledge of the bonds he knew would exist between them. Had mocked their predictions of the events to come. He had assured himself that night in the Labs had been due to the drugs, nothing more. Even though some internal sense had warned him otherwise.

He had been prepared to treat her as coldly, as cruelly as he would any Council lapdog. But the moment he had caught her scent, had seen her face, so pale, so distressed, he had been unable to maintain his determination. Her scent called out to him, her delicacy terrified him. She was so tiny now; so fragile he wondered how she had managed to escape on her own. She appeared too weak to even stand under her own strength, let alone to have escaped into the jungle.

He was within seconds of destroying every Council soldier and scientist they had taken, rather than holding them for questioning later by the Breed lawyers and government officials heading for the area. Remembering the smell of blood, of her impending death was nearly more than he could stand. They had done this to her. They had stripped her of all dignity and used her for their insane experiments. They had nearly killed her in their drive to play God.

He didn’t stop to question his conflicting feelings regarding Charity. His fury over her betrayal of him, his hatred that she had stayed with the Council rather than fighting to be free. His desire for her, his fury at her. It all converged inside him until the morass of emotions became overpowering.

“Stop growling at me, Aiden,” the doctor bit out nervously, her dark face watching him intently. “It doesn’t hurt. It’s just a needle.”

She inserted said needle into the vein, opening the valve to allow his blood to ease gently through the tube that connected him to Charity. He didn’t care about the damned needle. Over the course of his lifetime he had seen more needles than he could count.

“She’s not my mate,” he snarled, unable to hold the words back any longer. He knew the lie for what it was, though. “I have not accepted this.”

The doctor snorted. She was young for her remarkable skill in Breed medicine. A bit on the short side, with full breasts and hips most men would ache to clasp close. Her skin was as pretty as milk chocolate, and she had long, sleek black hair that fell down her back in a multitude of braids.

“Her body says otherwise.” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts as she stared down at him, glancing often at the speed of the transfusion. “You can’t deny the mating, Aiden. You know that.”

He looked up at her broodingly. She watched him as she would a recalcitrant child. The forced patience and mocking amusement had him baring his teeth in warning.

“I can deny whatever I wish,” he snapped. “I did not mark her. How can she be my mate?”

She frowned at the question. Her studies into the mating phenomena that began with Hope were well known. She was determined to learn why the Feline Breeds had bred so easily, whereas the Wolf Breeds had been unable to. The scientists had theorized for years that the inability to breed could reverse. It had been proven with the Feline Pride. The Wolf Packs had not yet accomplished that last battle with nature, though.

“If what I suspect is true when she swallowed your semen in that Lab six years ago, that was all it took. I suspected the mating could occur without the mark, and this proves it. The blood tests don’t lie, Aiden. Her body is bound to yours. The hormone and unique DNA that marks it matches yours perfectly. The enzyme in her blood that rejects any other transfusion further proves it. Deny it all you like, but she’s a part of you.”

Aiden refused to answer the charge. His blood boiled at the thought of being tied to this woman. Any woman. The life of a Breed was too dangerous. The life of a Breed mate was even more so. The low, vicious growl that rumbled in his throat couldn’t be silenced. The silent disapproval of his conscience was just as loud.

Had it not been for Keegan warning them that her body would accept no other blood but Aiden’s, they would have lost her. Not that Dr. Armani hadn’t run the first vital testing for blood match. She had run the tests as her assistant prepped Charity for the transfusion. Each second had seemed a lifetime as she bled uncontrollably.

“How much longer will this take?” He flicked a contemptuous glance at the blood-filled tube that led from his arm. “I have work to do.”

The scent of her need, even unconscious, was destroying him. Sweet and tempting, the subtle fragrance stirred him, keeping his cock engorged, his body ready to take her. He hated the uncontrolled response. The need, as hard and brutal as it had been while the drugs pumped through his system years before.

“She is more important,” she informed him, her voice turning cold.

Aiden lifted his lip contemptuously. To the doctor, she might be more important. To the Wolf Breeds she might be more important. To him, she was the enemy, he assured himself. He would not let his unruly body sway him where she was concerned. She had worked with the Council for years now, been a part of their inner workings, knew their secrets and their evil. Even when she could have escaped them, she stayed. Working with them rather than fighting to be free.

No sane person could have spent so many years in the bosom of such monsters and not be like them. The denial that clawed in his heart for so many years refused to accept this, but Aiden knew it was no more than the truth. He would not be led by his emotions in this.

Charity was a Council doctor, one of their most valued Lab Technicians and budding scientists, and yet none of them saw the potential of betrayal here.

“All done.” Dr. Nicole Armani’s voice was soft, yet tinged with disapproval as she removed the transfusion catheter. “You can return to whatever you deem important now, Aiden.”

He rose slowly to his feet.

“How long will she be unconscious?” He prided himself on his control then. He stood before the doctor, careless, unconcerned.

“I don’t know, Aiden.” She shook her head, watching as the assistant worked over Charity. “She’s lost a lot of blood, her body was in shock from whatever drugs they had pumped into her, and she was already weakened. It could be hours, it could be days.”

He flexed his fist carefully. “I’ll have one of my men stationed as guard. If she awakens, call for me. If not, she will be leaving on the air transport coming in this evening.”

“Aiden, she’s too weak.” Dr. Armani turned on him in angry surprise. “She may not survive the trip. She needs to be stabilized further.”

His mouth opened to snap at her, to reinforce the order, but his gaze was caught by the silent, too pale woman on the bed. He wanted to howl at himself in rage as an unfamiliar weakness rose inside him. She was too pale. Too weak. He wanted her away from here, yet he couldn’t endanger her further. Some instinct he couldn’t deny or fight refused to allow him to test her fragile strength.

“When?” His voice was a harsh, contained growl of fury.

“Not before she stabilizes,” Armani said again, her voice stubborn. “A day, a week, whatever. I’ll let you know when she can be moved.”

Frustration bit at him with sharp, hungry teeth. Charity would soon be in more danger by staying here than she would be if she were moved too early. The implication of her health and the war raging through the jungle with the escaped Council soldiers and Coyotes was a difficult problem. One he needed to resolve quickly.

“We have limited time here.” He gnashed his teeth together, frustration mounting inside him.

“Aiden, do you want her to die?” She turned on him then, facing him with a frown, her black eyes glittering angrily. “It’s my job to keep her alive. Period. Do you think I don’t know what I’m doing? I will let you know the minute I think she can be moved. If all goes well, possibly—and I stress possibly—tomorrow.”

He raked his fingers through his hair in a burst of anger. “We may not have this time you need, Doctor,” he bit out. “We must be cleared out of here as quickly as possible. You are aware of this, I assume?” He sneered the question at her.

They couldn’t afford an organized assault by soldiers possibly on their way to free those taken captive. The war between the Council and the Breeds was heating up in ways that left him struggling for the answer to their survival.

Dr. Armani drew herself stiffly erect. Her brows lowered dangerously, a tight smile shaping her lips. “Don’t push me, Aiden. I am not one of your Enforcers and I won’t be ordered about. You take care of your responsibilities and I will care of mine. We’ll both live that way.” She was beginning to appear decidedly violent.

“Are you threatening me, Armani?” he questioned her then, dangerously. No one had dared threaten him since the day they escaped the Labs.

“Sounds like she is, Aiden.” Faith stepped into the tent, dirt-smudged, and frowning in concern. “We need you outside. Jacob and Wolfe just pulled in the head scientist. It’s Robertson, and he’s ready to talk.”

Robertson. Dr. Andrew Robertson, second only to Bainesmith, before her death. He would now be considered the Council’s top expert in Breed experimentation. Aiden smiled coldly. He glanced back at Charity, promising himself that she would awaken soon, and when she did, she would not escape him or his vengeance.

“Were they able to retrieve any of the records?” he asked her quickly, forcing his mind away from Charity and her fragile health. “We need those records, Faith.”

She shook her head as they rushed from the tent. “Nothing, Aiden. Keegan was able to get into the records room before the explosion. Let’s pray they were destroyed. From what I’ve seen, we don’t want to know what happened here.”

He heard her compassion, her pain. And in many ways he agreed with her. The Lab had been hell, the smell of death and depravity nearly strangling them as they entered it. They had enough nightmares. God knew they didn’t need anymore.

“Let’s go see if we can choke some facts out of him then,” he smiled mercilessly. “I’m in the mood to be persuasive.”