"Smart man," Blade murmured.
"He would like you," she said softly. "You're a lot alike."
Blade's eyes, clouded with pain, searched her face. "Lily... you shouldn't have left the safe room. I told you?—"
"To stay put, I know," she interrupted. "But they were waiting for you. They knew you were coming back. They were going to kill you and take me to Zeb. They were military, or ex-military. Professional."
"Reynolds," Blade said grimly. "The tracker Zeb hired."
"You knew?" she asked, surprised.
"Found out at the cabin," he explained. "Tried to call, warn you. No signal in the mountains." His hand caught hers, gripping tightly despite his weakened state. "I was afraid I'd be too late."
The raw emotion in his voice made her throat tighten. "I was afraid too," she whispered. "That's why I couldn't just hide and wait. I had to try to warn you."
His eyes held hers, something powerful and unspoken passing between them. "You saved my life out there."
"After you saved mine," she reminded him. "Call it even."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Not even close, baby girl. Not even close."
The term of endearment, spoken in his pain-roughened voice, sent a wave of warmth through her. Despite everything, despite the danger, the violence, the blood staining both their clothes, she felt safe for the first time since he'd left.
Because he was back. Hurt, but alive. And they were together.
"I killed two men today," she said suddenly, the reality of it hitting her anew. "One in the woods, with your knife. And the leader, when he was about to shoot you."
Blade's expression softened. "I know. I'm sorry you had to do that."
"I'm not," she replied, surprising herself with the honesty of it. "Not if it meant saving you."
His hand reached up, cupping her cheek gently. "That's a heavy weight to carry."
"Then we'll carry it together," she said simply.
For a moment, they just looked at each other, the air between them charged with unspoken emotions. Then Blade winced, a fresh wave of pain clearly washing over him.
"We need to get you to a doctor," Lily said, reality intruding once more. "You've lost a lot of blood."
Blade shook his head. "Can't risk a hospital. Too many questions. Call Savage. Tell him to bring Doc here."
She nodded, reaching for the satellite phone on the coffee table. As she dialed, Blade's hand caught hers again.
"Lily," he said, his voice suddenly urgent. "I need you to know something. In case... in case things go sideways."
"Don't," she protested. "You're going to be fine."
"Just listen," he insisted. "These past few days, with you... they've meant something. To me. More than I expected. Morethan I thought possible." He swallowed hard. "If I don't make it?—"
"You will," she interrupted fiercely. "I didn't just kill two men to save your life only for you to give up on me now."
A pained chuckle escaped him. "So stubborn."
"You have no idea," she muttered, squeezing his hand before returning to the phone.
As she connected with Savage, explaining the situation in rapid, efficient terms, she kept her eyes on Blade. His color was bad, his breathing shallow. The bandages she'd applied were already soaking through with blood.
He needed help, and soon. But he was strong. A fighter. He'd survived worse, she was sure of it.
