Page 59 of Wired Target

She would go deep inside to that place where nothing and no one could reach her.She’d stayed in that gray inner place for two years the last time they took her to Guantánamo Bay.

When they came this time, she’d be ready, and she’d make them pay before they took her there again.

34

Connor came to awareness, hearing male voices talking over his head.“Low blood pressure.May have internal injuries,” an older voice said.“We can’t be responsible for this.”

“We’re just following orders.Keeping him here for a little while,” a younger one replied.

Connor kept his eyes shut as he tried to assess the situation: was he with friends, or foes?

“I’m here with you, Master.”Feirn whispered in Thai in Connor’s ear.“You’re hidden.Safe inside Sophie’s compound.We’ve bought some time.”

“Hey!What are you saying to him?”The older voice, concerned.

“No English,” Feirn said.

“Who is this guy, anyway?”Older grumbled.

“He seemed to know the blond guy.Maybe they’re together,” Younger said.

“Weird shit going on,” Older said.“The cops should be in here, taking statements.”

“Sophie’s friends with the cops, and she said wait.So, we wait,” Younger said.The two moved off into another room, still arguing.

Feirn’s breath was warm on Connor’s chilled cheek.“Master.You have some time alone now.Concentrate.Go inside and heal yourself.I know you can do it.I’ve seen you do it.”

Feirn was right.Healing himself was the best use of Connor’s limited resources right now; if he could mitigate his injuries, maybe Sophie’s two men wouldn’t insist he go to the hospital.

But without the warm, womblike waters of the Yam Khûmk?n fortress’s healing baths, it was hard to concentrate.

His broken leg throbbed with every beat of his heart, his brain felt too big for his skull, a million glass cuts cried out for attention, and his neck was a bundle of live nerves, lighting up his spinal column with flashes of electric agony every time he moved.

Whiplash was no joke, but none of his injuries were life-threatening.

“You can do this, Master.Concentrate.Leave the leg for last,” Feirn said.

Connor groped for the young man’s hand, then squeezed it.“Thank you for disobeying me, Feirn, and being there when I needed you,” he whispered.

“It’s my pleasure to serve you, Master.”Feirn said.“Now focus.Send energy where it needs to go to heal your body.”

Connor kept hold of Feirn’s hand, and concentrated.

Deep inside his body were conduits of blood, the pump of his heart, elaborate cables of nerves, the intricate processing plant of his organs, all built upon a sturdy structure of calcium bones.

Connor visualized the rich indigo of his energy field moving along liquid pathways with his heartbeat, repairing the many damages as Feirn kept up a steady whisper of encouragement in his ear.Gradually, the insistent jangle of pain receded.

His mind grew clearer as the electric zaps of nerve pain stopped.

His leg was still a wreck, but he’d at least silenced the loud throb of it.He squeezed Feirn’s hand again.“Thank you.I will rest now and do more later.”

“Water, Master.”Feirn slid an arm under his head and neck to lift him and held a glass to his lips.Connor drank thirstily, then drifted off into sleep.

He woke to the sound of Sophie arguing with the men in the adjacent room.Feirn was nowhere to be seen.“It’s not your responsibility to decide what happens with Connor’s injuries.What you need to do right now is fix Angel.The alarm should have gone off again when an intruder got into the kitchen and attacked Armita!Angel should have called our cell phones, whether I’d manually deactivated her or not!”

Connor’s pulse jacked.His eyes flew open.What had happened?

He needed more information.Needed to understand what was going on so he could figure out a strategy, how he could help.

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