Holocaust (The Deadwood Hunter Series Book 3) (28 page)

Chapter 37

 

Twelve hours later and Lincoln paced the room, the baby in his arms finally asleep after hours of constant crying. He rocked her gently as his eyes stayed glued on Lexia. Having finally being stable enough to move, Lexia now lay inside a military facility, a place where no questions would be asked. Her heart had stopped a number of times over the past twelve hours, machines blaring as doctors rushed around trying to keep her alive. Lincoln felt as if he had an iron fist wrapped around his heart, and every time a machine wailed, the fist clenched tighter. He wondered if he’d ever feel sane again, whether he’d ever be able to take a full breath.

She’d had most of the damaged skin and debris removed from her body. The yellow waxy patches gone, her skin colored a deep pink, with marks of black. Right now though, with a white sheet pulled up to her chin, he could almost imagine she only slept, if he could forget the breathing tube down her throat and the constant noise of the machine filling her lungs.

“Lincoln,” Sarah called quietly, opening the door.

Glancing at Lexia, he reluctantly walked toward the door.

“Sorry, I’ve not come sooner. I wanted to oversee every administration of the cure.”

“It’s working?” Lincoln asked, his mind going to Alice and then realizing he had no idea where she was. He felt a renewed wave of panic. “Alice?”

“She’s fine. Don’t worry. Marcus won’t release my son until Lexia wakes and she gives them the order. If there is one hunter I will be making sure survives this, it is Lexia’s best friend.”

Not sure how to answer, he remained quiet. The idea of Lexia having men and women waiting for her command was a little surreal and hard to imagine. It was daunting how much she’d changed and grown away from him, and if he was honest, it scared him.
Will she even need me anymore?

“They are coming to take her tracheotomy tube shortly. With her rapid healing, I’m certain she’ll be able to breathe on her own,” Sarah continued, unaware of Lincoln’s growing unease. “I wanted to take the baby,” Sarah said, peering at the girl asleep in his arms.

On instinct Lincoln moved the baby from her view.

“Oh, no, sorry that came out wrong. I just want to check she’s okay. Being buried alive, even protected by Lexia, may have caused damage.”

“She’s been fine. Caden treated her minor burns.”

“Oh, well, it’s just children can appear fine at first. Has she been settled all this time?”

Lincoln stared at Sarah, trying to decipher if she could be trusted. “She has been upset, but has settled now. I’ll come with you. Best to have her double checked.”

Sarah smiled, her eyes then landing on Lexia. “Will you not want to be here when they bring her out the coma and take her offth
e
intubation?”

“Oh, I…”“Here,” Sarah said, gently lifting the baby from him, “we’ll just be next door. I’ll call if we need you. Oh, look, here they are to bring her back. If you’re lucky, she’ll wake soon.”

Torn between staying with Lexia and the baby, Lincoln glanced at the sleeping baby. “You’re just checking her over in that room?” he confirmed, pointing to the room next door.

“Yes, Lincoln, I’ll take good care of her,” Sarah replied, walking from the room with the baby.

Drawn away as the breathing machine was switched off, his heart squeezed tighter. Lincoln stood ridged, not evening daring to breathe as he watched Lexia’s chest remain still. He didn’t release the breath he was holding until her chest rose. Sucking in the much-needed oxygen, he watched her take another small breath.

“This is good,” the nurse said to him, her smile kind. “She’s quite remarkable.”

“Yes, she is,” Lincoln murmured, taking a tentative step toward Lexia.

“She should wake soon. When she does, press the red button. We’ll be in to check over her then.”

Thanking the nurse, Lincoln closed the distance between them in one large step. Gently holding her hand, he stared at her face. She had one burn mark that wrapped around her neck and up over one cheek, but it wasn’t as severe as the other burns; he could already see it had started to heal.

Out of nowhere, her eyes shot open. Gasping in a loud raspy breath, she screamed.

“Lex, Lex, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

Her eyes wild with fear locked with his and for a spilt second she relaxed, her hand gripping his, the smallest of smiles pulling at the corner of her lips. “Lincoln,” she breathed.

Before he’d opened his mouth in reply, her eyes scanned the room. “Where is she?” Lexia screamed, the whites of her eyes huge. “Where is she?”

“Who, Lex? Calm down. It’s okay.”

The doors swung opened that second and Lexia went hysterical. Thrashing, she knocked the doctor out of the way, her screams terrified, frantic.

“Where is Lola?” she yelled again, her eyes locking with Lincoln’s. “Where is she?”

Lola?
“Who’s Lola?” Lincoln asked, the name renewing the pain of his parents’ deaths.

The nurse pushed a needle into Lexia’s arm. Lexia threw her with such force across the room, the woman hit the wall, sliding down. She didn’t get back up.

The sedative had already started to take effect. Her eyes struggled to stay focused. Lincoln had never felt so helpless in his life. Dragging in a deep breath, Lexia forced her arm to move out. She grasped Lincoln, her voice strained and forced. “The baby…my baby…”

“You named her Lola?”

Slumping back, the drugs pulling her under, she smiled sadly, nodding.

“She’s fine, Lex. Sarah has her. Sleep.”

His words though only caused more worry. “No,” she gasped, her eyes wild. “Different, Lo…” her words trailed off as she was pulled under, leaving Lincoln staring in shock.

Her words made sense as his keen hearing picked up Lola’s cry. Out of the room in seconds, he was met by two men guarding the door, their guns pointed at him. Not giving them a chance to speak, his claws slit through his fingers. Slashing the first across the chest, the other fired, clipping his arm with a bullet. Growling, his arm swung out, connecting with the man’s nose, sending him unconscious to the floor.

Bursting through the door, Lincoln assessed his next move. Taking out the two guards who rushed him, he strode forward, one hand steadying the wiggling screeching baby on the table, the other slamming into Sarah’s chest, sending her sprawling – all of which took mere seconds. The leash on his beast all but slipped, the fragile hold on his human form just gripping onto his skin. Voice rough with the edge of his panther’s growl, Lincoln said, “You will not be touching her again.”

“You don’t understand, Lincoln, I was just trying to help.”

“How is this helping? She’s just a baby.” Forcing his claws to retract, Lincoln gently took the needle from her arm. Scooping Lola up with one hand, he picked the vials of blood up with the other.

Walking to the sink, he smashed them against the ceramic bowl, before watching the water turn murky pink as it washed the blood away.

“She’s not Lexia’s. She’s Lucy’s. Lucy created her. Even if she’s been made from bits of Lexia, there is no telling what she will become.” Sarah pleaded with Lincoln, hoping he would understand.

“Lucy created Lexia. Not all born from evil are destined to be so.” Rocking Lola in his arms, he glanced down at her, then back at Sarah. “This baby is Lexia’s. I see it in her eyes and I smell it in her scent. It is her choice as to whether we’ll explore her origins, not yours.”

Walking from the room, Lincoln found his way blocked. Six men, dressed in black combat gear, looked through their scopes, guns trained at him.

“Don’t be stupid,” Sarah said from behind, standing in the doorway. “You are in a government facility. Most of the armed men and women in here are special ops. All I want are a few samples. I have no intention of taking the baby. Are you really willing to expose what you are over a few blood samples?”

Words hard to hear over the rumble of his beast, Lincoln looked at Sarah, the gleam in his eyes pure ruthless cat. “You have no idea what I’m willing to do.”

“You’re right. I don’t, but I’d love to hear how you plan to get both your mate and her baby out of here? You are all alone, Lincoln.”

She was right. Caden had gone to check in with Grey; make sure all the injured shifters were recovering, the dead taken care of. The hunters he’d left back on the battle field, presumably they were all being
cured.
Lincoln was alone, facing six men with guns and God knows how many more lay within the building. Yet as he stood staring at the impossible situation, he could hear Lexia in his mind. She’d tell him to run, to fight, to save her baby and leave her behind.

Pressing Lola securely against his chest, his free hand curled with deadly claws ready to strike. The first two fell without their fingers touching the trigger. Claws sharp and lethal across their throats, their blood sprayed hot and red against the white walls.

A bullet tore through the muscled flesh covering his shoulder. Burning as it ripped through him, Lincoln gritted his teeth and pushed on.

“Don’t damage the baby,” Sarah screeched from behind the door.

Slashing his claws, he tore through their gear but struggled to hit skin. Growling, he went for the throat when the man nearest to him dropped to his knees, hands clutching his chest in shock. The others followed in quick concession, a single bullet clean through their heads, blood pooling from the wound.

Lincoln looked down the corridor. A small group of hunters moved quickly toward them, rifles held ready to fire. Marcus and Belinda in the lead, flanked by two others Lincoln didn’t recognize, and Alice at the rear.

“Looks like we arrived just in time,” Marcus said with a grin.

“Thanks,” Lincoln replied a little shocked.

“Lincoln,” Caden gasped as he came through the doors at the end of the corridor. “What the hell happened?” He ran toward them.

“We’ve overstayed our welcome. Get Lexia. It’s time to leave.”

“You’re not just walking out of here. This place is full of military personal. I can have you surrounded in minutes.”

Marcus levelled his gun at Sarah. “I could kill you in a second,” Marcus responded. “I also have your son, or had that slipped your mind?”

“We are hunters, Sarah. We survived Lucy. Do not underestimate us,” Belinda added.

Face turning red with anger, Sarah shouted to the armed men who’d just burst through the door, “Let them go.”

“I strongly advise against moving her, Linc,” Caden said as they entered Lexia’s room. “She was flat-lining only ten hours ago.

“We stay here we’re all dead anyway.”

“We’ll take the bed,” Caden decided. “Find a vehicle capable of accommodating the bed,” he instructed Marcus.

“On it,” Marcus answered, pressing his earpiece and murmuring instructions.

Caden unplugged Lexia from the machines he couldn’t transport with him, instructing Alice to hold the IV lines up high. Leaving the building via the underground garage, the group met two more hunters from Lexia’s unit.

Having hotwired a van from the garage, they had it idling and ready to go. The back of the van was a tight squeeze. Zac, gagged and bound, was already inside. With everyone secured, they left the building without being followed.

“Where to?” Marcus asked, sliding the dividing window open.

“Give me a minute.” Caden muttered, retrieving his cell. “Just head toward Deadwood, for now.”

Lincoln reached out, running his hand through the hair Lexia had left, gently touching the skin, already healing. “You hear that, Lex. We’re going home.”

Chapter 38

 

She awoke to darkness. It suffocated her, stole her breath, and pressed down on her chest, until her heart stuttered uneasily. She remembered the walls closing in, the burning ash filling her lungs, touching her skin until there as nothing left but charred, agonizing flesh.

A scream ripped from her torn, swollen throat. She remembered Lincoln. She thought he’d saved her, saved her and Lola from the tomb they were enclosed in, but it had been a dream, a dream she could never have.

This is my hell. This is my payment for all I have done.

Too lost in her broken mind, she couldn’t hear the voices calling to her, telling her she was safe. All there was left for Lexia was pain. The pain of a broken heart, a broken soul, and a broken body. She was trapped, entombed, in the hell her mother had created.

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