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It took far too long to build a refuge that couldn’t be seen from the air or any trail. Once he had Leila inside, he would erase all tracks leading to their shelter. He had gone half a mile off trail through heavy brush and trees. There was a particularly tall tree with a huge root system reaching for a thin trickle of running water that came from above. The small stream ran all year round, sometimes doubling in size, but always there was a source of water for the animals and plants. The tree provided shelter for wildlife and was home to birds, squirrels and lizards.

The tree was full, thick branches reaching in all directions, darkening the forest floor. Tall ferns grew around the tree, blocking the view from any direction. Years earlier, Diego had discovered the spot when he followed an owl through the forest. Just to the left of the root system was a steep berm, a drop-off that was covered by years of foliage, needles, leaves, branches and twigs falling to form a massive mound that appeared solid.

He had patiently climbed down the ridge, exploring, and had found the entrance to a cave. It wasn’t really a cave, more of a deep depression in the mountain hidden by the root system, ferns and the hundred-year-old accumulation of debris at the edge of that berm. It would be impossible to find unless you knew where it was.

Diego worked as fast as possible knowing Warrior Woman didn’t have much time. They would need a place with room for both to lie down and easy access to water. He had rations with him—he rarely went anywhere without them—and he knew how to hunt for food in the forest, but he wouldn’t be in very good shape after performing a psychic surgery.

The truth was if he didn’t have to hurry, he would have tried to find a way to back out of using his greatest gift. A psychic surgeon was extremely rare, and the gift required a completely selfless sacrifice. He didn’t think of himself in that light. Rubin was a man who would sacrifice everything for others. He didn’t always base his decisions on logic. The compulsion to heal was extremely strong, and Rubin was very empathetic. There were times when he risked his life when he should have known better.

Diego was far more pragmatic than his brother. He had never allowed emotions to rule him. With a gift such as psychic surgery, he knew to succeed he had to be willing to sacrifice his own life for his patient. He was never one hundred percent certain he would make the exchange once he was deep into surgery and things were going wrong. He’d seen it happen to Rubin dozens of times. He’d been the watcher, ensuring his brother stayed alive during the process, but he had never let on that he had that same gift.

He prepared the small den with everything he could think of that they would need when both would be weak and vulnerable. He was meticulous, paying attention to details. Those could mean the difference between life and death. Throughout his life in the mountains, he’d befriended the great gray owl, and he called on them now, asking them to stay alert for any signs of intruders. Only then did he go back to Warrior Woman.

It was a testament to Leila’s strength of will that she hadn’t moved when he cautioned her not to. Even with the painkiller he’d given her, she had to be in agony. He found himself admiring her and was even more determined to save her life.

The journey to the shelter was a nightmare. He was a member of the Air Force GhostWalker’s Pararescue Team. Countless times he’d carried the wounded on his back over impossible terrain. He’d done so automatically, without thought, getting his patient to a safe place where they could save his life. Carrying Leila felt different, personal, as if he shared every bone-jarring bump as he took her over the rough terrain and through the dense forest. The half-mile hike felt like ten. It was virtually impossible to avoid the brush and low-hanging branches as he made his way to the shelter. She didn’t make a sound, but her breathing was erratic.

Diego was good enough in the forest that he could cover his tracks, but if he broke branches or bruised leaves, a good tracker might be able to follow him. He knew he would have to erase all evidence of their passing.

Once in the shelter, he settled Leila on the soft raised area he’d made for her. The sleeping bag was on top of a bed of leaves he’d compacted to make it softer for her.

“We don’t have much time. I want you to listen to me carefully. I know you’re struggling to stay conscious, but you need to hear me and follow my directions to the letter. I’m going to remove all traces of us coming here. It will take a few minutes. Beside you are water and rations. I’m placing three guns within your reach.” He guided her hand to each one. “Extra ammo is next to the food. I’m giving you three knives.”

Her lashes did lift then, and she looked him directly in the eye. “Are you leaving me?”

“Just for a couple of minutes to wipe out our tracks, but when I come back, I’ll be doing the surgery on you. I’m going to talk very plainly. There has to be truth between us at all times. I’m not going to hide that this situation is dire.” While he spoke, he set up for the operation.

“I prefer truth.”

“If we survive, I expect that you will never give away the fact that I performed this surgery on you.”

“We?”

He ignored the fact that he wanted to rub his finger over the little frown lines appearing between her brows. “If I live through this, I’m going to go down hard. Very hard. It will leave us without protection. I expect that during that time, the men who went up the mountain will come looking for their friends. They’re going to find five dead bodies, and they won’t be happy. Hopefully, I’ll have concealed our tracks and they won’t be able to find us.”

He saw the protest welling up and turned away from her. He didn’t have time to argue or explain. He hurried away and double-timed back. Systematically he erased every trace of them. There was one fern with a broken stalk and a small branch that had been snapped but hadn’t fallen. He didn’t try to fix those, just hightailed it back to the shelter.

Leila opened her eyes the instant he returned. He stripped off his jacket and boots and knelt beside her.

“Tell me what you meant,” she greeted.

He didn’t pretend he didn’t understand. “There’s a risk in doing this type of surgery. An exchange between us. You won’t live if it isn’t done, Leila.”

As he passed his palms over her abdomen, he was already feeling the well of energy that signaled he could tap into that healing fire buried deep inside him.

“I’m not exchanging my life for yours,” she protested.

“You don’t have a choice. Close your eyes and just be still. When I go down, and I will, I’ll need to heal just like you. Hopefully, we won’t have any visitors. I’ve got sentries scattered throughout the forest. They’ll alert us when the men reach the bodies and if they come close to us.”

“Diego.” She whispered his name. “You shouldn’t do this.”

He gave her a vague smile. “I should. Now let me concentrate.”

That was all he could give her. Psychic surgery wasn’t completely different than physical surgery. Every artery and vein had to be repaired around any wounds. The muscles and organs had to be dealt with. The damage to Leila was extensive. Once he could see inside her body, mapping everything out with heat first, he didn’t understand how she could have spoken to him let alone lived through such traumatic wounds.

Once she stopped fighting it, she slid under quietly, succumbing to the pain and trauma, giving herself up to him. It told him a lot about her that she didn’t continue to try to argue. She accepted the inevitable and allowed him to take over.

Psychic surgery required a transfer; it was brief, but the surgeon, as he meticulously repaired a shattered body, took on the wounds for a brief period of time. Opening the deep well of healing energy, he began, with his mind, to move the damaged pieces of Leila’s bone, muscle and veins back into place, meticulously mending each one. There were so many damaged parts, and he lost himself in the work. Once he started, there was no turning back. Healing her had become a compulsion.

Her spleen was ruptured. It was a wonder she hadn’t bled out. He knew she had gifts and she’d managed to slow the bleeding in order to give herself time to defeat her captors. He had no choice but to remove the organ. He knew she could live without a spleen, but she would have to always watch out for infections.

Her liver and gallbladder were intact as well as the large intestine, but there was some trauma to her stomach and small intestine. The bullet had entered at a strange angle, and he mapped the trajectory through the damage, making certain to clear every fragment left behind so there was no shrapnel or metal in her body. It was a painstaking process.

There was no one there to wipe the sweat that ran down his face into his eyes or hand him water. He didn’t have a partner to support his body when his strength gave out and he had to continue without rest. He’d known the surgery would be difficult, but he hadn’t realized how many hours it would take or how drained he would become so quickly. He had no other recourse than to continue no matter how tired he got. When he finished, he would be lying right next to her, unable to move, and that was if he lived.

The pain was horrendous. It crashed through him each time he moved to a new organ or vein. The bullet had exited at an odd angle through her back, breaking a rib in its path and cracking two others. It was well after dark before he finished.

He knew the crash was coming, and it was going to be bad. Already, his vision was blurred, dark around the edges. His head pounded and his body hurt beyond belief. Still, he wasn’t finished until he gave her what she needed. He hooked himself up to an IV after he removed the equipment for the blood transfer, and then it was over.

Diego went down hard, just as he feared he would. He was thankful he hadn’t been standing. One moment he was half sitting beside her, and the next everything went black.

Leila became aware of sound first. Insects droning. She registered that was a good thing but she was disoriented and at first couldn’t figure out why. Her head pounded and her abdomen felt on fire. She was afraid to move. Breathing hurt. She reached for the weapons Diego had promised would be close, just to reassure herself that she wouldn’t be taken a second time. She’d never felt so vulnerable.

It took another few minutes, or at least it felt that way, to pry her eyes open. Despite finding herself hooked up to a needle with what appeared to be an empty bag of fluids, her entire body felt dry, and her eyes and mouth were desperate for fluids.

She turned her head, and for one moment, her heart accelerated. She slowed the beat immediately and took in the man who had most likely saved her life. He hadn’t left her or given up. He’d treated her with respect, telling her step-by-step what he had to do. He’d left supplies and weapons for her, giving her every chance for survival.

Light filtered through the branches and brush covering the small den where they sheltered. The early morning rays fell across Diego’s face, illuminating the sharp angles and planes of his cheekbones and jaw. His face was a perfect sculpture of masculine beauty. She had never seen a man so gorgeous. Everything about his features appealed to her. But… Her heart sank. Was he breathing?

Her heart sped up in alarm, and once again, she deliberately slowed her pulse. It wouldn’t do any good to have both of them dead. She couldn’t do more than turn her head, fearing that moving around would destroy all the work Diego had done. She felt as if she’d had an operation, her insides sore, but she felt different from when she’d gone under.

The scent of blood was disturbing. She knew that many of the predators in the forest would be attracted to their shelter. Leila tightened her fingers around the gun. She would have to be ready to defend them. First, though, she had to determine if Diego was alive.

His body lay very close to hers. Thighs touching. She began to feel around for his arm or hand. She had to stay very still, that was what he’d said, but she was uncomfortable. Her clothes were a mess and felt sticky against her skin. That wasn’t the only problem. She couldn’t get up to use the bathroom, not that there was one. Diego hadn’t thought of that. Or had he? She hadn’t looked around for a bucket. He said he’d put everything she needed within her reach so she wouldn’t have to move. She wasn’t wearing her trousers, just her bloodstained, very tattered shirt. He’d had to take off her trousers and underwear to operate on her.

She lay there unmoving, feeling exhausted, scared, with tears leaking out of her eyes. It took several more minutes to get the courage to continue exploring for Diego’s arm. She didn’t dare try to turn on her side to face him. She wasn’t even certain she could. Finally, after moving her palm along his thigh, up his hip and rib cage, she brushed his arm with her fingers. One arm was down along his side.

Leila traced a path to his wrist and settled her fingers over his pulse. She found herself holding her breath. Waiting. He had to be alive. It was as necessary as her next breath. For a moment, she couldn’t see or hear anything but her own wild heartbeat thudding in reaction. Then she felt it: a faint, fluttery beat that sent her emotions soaring. The relief was overwhelming.

His wrist and that heartbeat acted like some kind of a security blanket for her. She lay there beside him, just breathing, grateful that he was alive. She was more grateful for his life than her own. It took another few minutes before she began searching with her other hand for anything he may have left to aid her in relieving herself. She didn’t want to ruin the makeshift bed she was on, and she was becoming a little desperate.

Her fingers touched something soft and round, and she dragged it onto her chest. The roll of toilet paper made her smile. Of course he would be traveling with toilet paper. He seemed to have a magical pack with everything she needed. The next thing she found was a lightweight plastic rectangular container she could slide under her. It wasn’t easy, and she hurt like hell, but she managed to lift her hips just enough to get the shallow basin beneath her. Relief was tremendous. Even overwhelming. She could feel tears on her face.

Leila wasn’t a crier. She had always been stoic, refusing to allow anyone to see what she was feeling. Once she started, she was unable to turn off the faucet, especially when she realized it wouldn’t be as easy to remove the container as it was to slide it under her. She had to worry about spilling. It took effort and pain to manage, but she was able. Exhausted, she fell asleep with tears still running down her face.

Leila woke hours or days later, she didn’t know which and didn’t care. She didn’t especially want to be awake. Night in the forest was spooky. She had no idea why. She’d spent hundreds of hours training in forests. This one felt different—ancient. Eerie. Each time she heard movement outside the shelter, she half expected some mythical, monstrous creature to stick its head inside and confront her with a mouthful of teeth and glowing eyes. The gun in her hand and holding on to Diego’s wrist, feeling his heartbeat, kept her wild imagination from conjuring up every creature she’d read about that was supposed to occupy the Appalachians.

“Smoke wolf,” she murmured aloud. She’d read he was a red-eyed, enormous fierce predator rarely seen. He would eat any livestock, wildlife or human, he encountered.

“Aw, the smoke wolf. You need to rattle chains to deter him.”

Her heart stuttered. She turned her head to look at Diego. He hadn’t moved.

“You do? Chains?”

“Yep. He’s called a smoke wolf because he can shift into a cloud of smoke. You can see why he’s not been tracked far or caught.”

The amusement in his voice charmed her. She really liked the sound of his voice. She told herself it was because he had saved her, but she knew it was far more than that.

“I would be more concerned about the raven mocker finding us,” he continued. This time the note of amusement seemed to stroke over her skin like healing fingers. “He hunts the sick and dying at night.”

“That’s just great,” she played along, wanting to keep him talking. “What does he look like?”

“Very large, raven feathers and sharp wicked beak. It would drain our life force, and that allows him to extend his life.”

She gripped his wrist tighter. “Well, at least we’d go together. What else could be out there?”

“Warrior Woman, we’ve got bigfoot, but he might be likely to help us, so we’ll discount having to protect ourselves from him. These mountains have many scary creatures. There’s the massive silver giant with his fur-covered body and glowing eyes.”

“Glowing eyes seem to be a common theme in these mountains.”

The briefest of smiles curved his lips and made her heart stutter. He really was a stunningly gorgeous man.

“The giant is about ten feet high and weighs in around five hundred pounds, but he’s agile and said to be very fast. I, personally, have never encountered him but have met a few who glimpsed him. They said just seeing him foreshadowed tragedy. He eats wildlife, livestock and humans.”

“So, a lovely fellow. He wouldn’t be likely to help us.”

“I doubt he’d offer his services. I’m just telling you what a couple of old-timers swore to me. They’d caught glimpses of him and hid.”

“How can he be defeated, just in case he shows up while you’re asleep? Should I try flashing him?” She did her best to sound innocent and must have managed, because she was rewarded with that same faint smile.

“I was told to defeat him you needed divine intervention or powerful magic. I imagine you flashing him would be considered either.”

She laughed. Even though laughter hurt, she was extremely happy she could. Right in the middle of one of the worst messes she was trapped in, he made her laugh. It was genuine too. She could pretend when needed, but there was no need around Diego. It didn’t make sense, other than that they were thrown together in dire circumstances and he made her feel alive when she shouldn’t be.

He was silent for a moment. “Couldn’t save your spleen, Leila. There was no use in trying, it was shredded. If you hadn’t controlled the blood and your heart, you’d be dead. You did a good job. Wanted to make it right for you, but there was no getting that back.”

“You saved my life. I don’t know how, but you did. Thank you for that.” And he’d risked his own life for her. No one had ever done that for her.

“You’ll have to be careful of infections. You can live without a spleen, but you’re susceptible to everything that comes along. I did what I could to stimulate your ability to fight off diseases, but honestly, I was exhausted at that point and knew I’d crash hard. I’ll go in another time and do what I can for you.”

He sounded so tired. Too tired. That alarmed her. Inadvertently, she dug her fingers into his wrist as if she could hold him to her.

“Don’t,” she implored softly. “Diego, don’t leave me.”

“Not leaving you, beautiful,” he murmured softly. “Just too tired to stay awake. Hydrate. That’s important. Stay hydrated for me.”

“What about you? Drink water.”

“Can’t move yet.” Again, his lips curved into that faint smile. “No worries about the legends coming to life and trying to do you in. I protected our den.”

She didn’t know how he would protect it, but she was becoming a believer in him. “Do you want me to try to get you water?”

“No. Do you have any idea how many hours or days have gone by?”

“I don’t.”

He fell silent. In the darkness, his labored breathing was all she could focus on. She had to work to keep her heart under control. She wasn’t afraid of a predator finding them because of the scent of blood. She didn’t fear smoke wolf, silver man or bigfoot. She was terrified to lose him. Not because she would be alone. She’d spent a good deal of her life alone. It was Diego. He was a compelling, charismatic man, and she found herself actually enjoying his company, as brief a time as she’d had with him.

“I’ll examine you again the next time I come to.”

His voice reached her out of the darkness, a soothing blend of velvet and heat.

“I can tell I’m getting better. The pain is a thousand times less,” she assured him.

“Don’t want you to have any pain, woman.”

This time she didn’t get one of his killer, barely there smiles. She wished she had the energy to trace his lips. Map out his entire face. His bone structure was sharp, cutting edge.

“If I were reading a romance novel, which I will never admit I had access to, the author would describe your features as ‘chiseled.’?”

That got her the smile. “Is that a good thing?”

“Yep. You really are a thing of physical beauty, Diego,” she said sincerely, wondering why she couldn’t stop her mouth from announcing every thought in her head to him.

Again, she got that brief flash. “Woman, you’re high as a kite still. We can’t have been out that long.”

“No, it’s the truth. I wouldn’t just say something not true. It isn’t drugs.” Although it was entirely possible she was blurting out the truth because there were still drugs in her system. “Which reminds me. Why are you carrying drugs with you? Isn’t that illegal?”

“My brother Rubin—who, by the way, is a brilliant doctor—and I come up a couple times a year to check on some of the locals. There are several who mistrust outsiders, especially doctors. We like to make certain they get care and any vaccinations they may need. If they need an operation and we’re capable, Rubin does the honors. In this case, I brought supplies with me. He’ll be coming up to do the rounds.”

“You’re kind of brilliant yourself,” she felt compelled to point out.

“I’m brilliant at killing, Warrior Woman, not saving lives.”

She bit down on her lower lip while she contemplated what he said. “Do you save lives by killing? Or do you just kill willy-nilly?”

She got an actual laugh that turned into a cough. Her breath caught in her throat. He really seemed worse off than she was.

“Willy-nilly?” There was more of that velvety masculine amusement. “I hear all kinds of phrases up here, use a few of them myself, but ‘willy-nilly’ coming out of your mouth was unexpected.”

“At random. I’m asking if you just go around shooting anyone at random. That’s what ‘willy-nilly’ means.” She did her best to sound snippy, but it was impossible when she wanted to laugh.

“Let me give this a little thought.”

“Usually, if a person is going to lie, they think things over. And I already know the answer. I’m going to keep you talking so you don’t fall asleep.”

“I’m not dead.”

“How would I know? You don’t make a sound. You don’t even snore. Can’t you at least do that? You’re gorgeous. You killed those five men trying to rape and kill me in like under five seconds, prepared us a shelter, gave me blood, operated and set everything up for me so I’d have anything I needed at my fingertips. That’s brilliant in my opinion.”

“You’re good for my soul, Warrior Woman. Coming from you, who I have all the respect in the world for, it means something that you think I’m brilliant.”

He fell silent again, and she listened to his breathing. Just the sound, like his heartbeat, was reassuring to her, even when it continued to sound a little ragged. She wrapped herself up in his compliment. She had heard the honesty. He respected her and had no problem saying so. Meaning it. No one had ever complimented her. Not a single person. He called her “Warrior Woman,” and not in a sarcastic, demeaning way. He meant that title out of respect. Once she thought he might have used “my” in front of “Warrior Woman.” She would have liked that a lot if it was true. That made no sense at all to her, but she admitted she was a little screwed up at that moment. Still, she kept her hand on his wrist, staying connected to him.

“Forgot to tell you, old man Gunthrie perpetuated his own myth.”

That voice. Like black velvet caressing her skin. She needed it there in the darkness. She could even admit she was afraid. She rarely allowed herself to feel fear. It wasn’t of dying or being alone—she’d been alone all her life—but she felt totally vulnerable and helpless. She knew the other men in the unit sent after her would be returning, and they would never stop hunting her when they discovered the bodies of their companions.

“The gigantic hornet. It would come to his call and land in his meadow, that little clearing where he planted all the wildflowers for Lotty,” Diego continued in his mesmerizing voice.

Goose bumps formed on her skin, but it was the unfamiliar longing that made her want to turn her body toward his, wrap him in her arms and hold him close so he couldn’t possibly slip away from her.

“He had all the kids terrified, but we’d sneak out and try to make our way down the mountain to get a glimpse of the hornet when we knew it was around the time it was most likely to show up.”

She forced herself to go along with his story. She was interested, especially since it had to do with her uncle, but more to keep him alert and talking. “The hornet was on a schedule to greet my uncle?”

“Give or take a day or two. It was always risky to go, especially at night in the forest, even if you know it well. But we were boys and we had to be brave. Our courage may have been fueled by moonshine.”

His little grin revealed a crease at his mouth that intrigued her.

“We grew up on ghost stories and the various folklore from different parts of the Appalachians. The scarier, the better, and we all believed. Luther was a legend all by himself even without the giant hornet with its glowing eyes. Put those two together and his reputation grew until he was all but mythological himself.”

Not only did Diego sound amused, but he sounded respectful. She considered that he didn’t realize how much he admired her uncle.

“The rumors continued to grow that gigantic flying insects would land on the property, right in Lotty’s meadow, and Luther would duck his head to avoid it being bitten off, lean against the creature and pet it while he communed with it.”

A giggle slipped out. She hastily pressed her fingers over her mouth, shocked at the sound. She’d never giggled in her life. She didn’t even know how.

“Is that what everyone said?”

“Whispered. It was old man Gunthrie. He scared the bejesus out of everyone, adults and children alike. We were all told to stay clear of his land. He was likely to shoot and bury you so no one would ever find the body. Or some thought he might eat the bodies.”

“Eww.” She wrinkled her nose. “No one really believed that, did they?”

“Of course we did. At any event where the boys got together, we’d talk about Luther and the gigantic hornets. We were sneaking moonshine, and that added to our stories and courage. I was about eight or nine, so the idea of creeping up on the old man without being detected was the ultimate challenge, especially if he had his army of gigantic hornets.”

“You drank moonshine at eight or nine?” She didn’t know why that shocked her, but it did.

“Naturally. Did a lot of things at eight and nine.” The laughter faded from his voice.

She wanted it back. Clearly, his memories of his childhood weren’t all happy. “Did you ever manage to sneak up on him and catch him with the hornets?”

“I saw the hornet a time or two from a distance through trees and shrubs. It looked like a yellow-and-black body with a long tail that spun at the end. The front of him was a bubble of black and yellow. His wings were on top of his head and spun instead of flapped.”

“You said the eyes glowed. Every monster up here has glowing eyes.”

“The eyes were so bright red you didn’t dare look into them. Luther always seemed to know when there were spies about. Every time those things set down in Lotty’s clearing, the fog would be particularly heavy, making it difficult to see through the trees. None of us had binoculars in those days, and we didn’t dare get too close. After all, Luther might shoot and bury us, or worse, feed us to his hornets.”

She could hear the humor in his voice, and she found herself liking him even more. A man who could laugh at himself was worth his weight in gold. “I don’t know much about children, but in all the books I’ve read, little boys are always mischievous.”

“That wasn’t what my mother called it.”

There was that note in his voice that sent alarms skittering through her. Once again, she did her best to drag him back to good memories.

“Did you figure out the myth of the hornets?”

“Yeah, but it took a couple of times traipsin’ through the woods at night in the fog and risking that old man shooting us. Glowing eyes, wings on its head, long tail.”

It was a clear challenge. She thought it over. She knew her uncle now. He wasn’t Hornet Man. He was a soldier through and through.

She burst out laughing. “A helicopter. Uncle Luther was rendezvousing with a helicopter.”

“Yep. Much more fun for us to think he was Hornet Man and commanded an army of gigantic hornets. Naturally, when Rubin and I figured it out, we didn’t tell anyone, not even our friends.”

“That would spoil the fun and mystique.”

“Yeah, it would have. And all the young boys coming up behind us. We weren’t able to get together often. Life was hard. It took a lot of work to survive in these mountains. We were much more remote than a lot of others. Once my father died, we went to other homes less and less, even for the celebrations. But Luther would come. He’d bring us meat and other goods. Leave it on the porch or visit with my mother briefly. Sometimes he’d have a talk with Rubin and me about fishing or hunting. Even tracking. We learned a lot from him. He’d show up even in the worst weather. Be abrupt, brisk, but always gave good advice. We learned fast to believe him.”

She was losing him. Panic set in for a moment, but she took a couple of deep breaths and let him slide into sleep. She followed not long after, her hand curled over the top of his wrist like a delicate shackle.