Desert Rogues Part 2 (35 page)

Emma was so stunned, she nearly stumbled. “Don't hurt him,” she demanded, pulling at her arm and suddenly jerking free.

Billy spun toward her. “Don't screw this up, sweetheart. I'll take you out if I have to.”

“Emma.”

She heard Reyhan's voice over the storm, over her fear and over the rapid pounding of her heart.

“Let her go,” the first man insisted. He charged Billy.

Emma read the mercenary's intent before he ever acted. Even as he raised the gun, she flung herself at his arm, shoving him down. The gun went off.

The sound of the gunshot cut through the roar of the storm. Suddenly men where everywhere and bullets filled the air. Emma didn't know where to run or hide, nor did it matter. All she could think was that she had to get to Reyhan. Then something large and heavy crashed into her and she was trapped on the ground.

Panic flared. She couldn't breathe. She struggled until a familiar voice spoke into her ear.

“Be still. You are safe.”

Reyhan. Fierce gladness swept through her and she wanted to roll over so she could cling to him.

More bullets cut through the storm. There were cries of pain, curses and the howl of the wind. Suddenly Reyhan was off her and pulling her to her feet. They were running toward the truck.

“Billy has the keys,” she yelled to Reyhan. “In his pocket.”

Reyhan didn't answer. Instead he circled around to the passenger side and shoved her inside.

“Stay down,” he ordered. “Under the dash.”

Then he was gone.

Emma huddled on the floorboards and prayed as she had never prayed in her life. That Reyhan would be safe. That no one else would be hurt. That they would all get out of this alive.

Time ticked by. Hours? Minutes? She wasn't sure. At last there was only the sound of the storm and she risked looking out the passenger window.

The three mercenaries were captured, sitting on the ground, their arms and legs bound. Several of the injured were being treated by men she thought must work for Reyhan. Relief coursed through her, making her weak and nauseated. They had survived.

After a time, Reyhan returned to the truck. “Are you all right?” he asked as he climbed in beside her and put a key in the ignition.

“I'm fine. Is there…” She glanced out the window. “Are there a lot of injuries? My bodyguards?”

“A few. One of the mercenaries took a bullet to the arm. A couple of the rebels were shot, as were three of Will's men. None are fatal.”

“Good.” She swallowed. “Was anyone killed?”

“One of the rebels. I knew him and his father. He was just seventeen.” Reyhan looked weary and distressed.

Emma's stomach lurched. “Oh, God. It was my fault.”

“No.” He turned on her. “Not your fault. These boys who wanted to play at being dangerous men brought this upon themselves. No one took them seriously, not even me. I knew their game and thought they would outgrow it. We were all wrong.”

He started the truck. “It's time to get you to safety.”

She was still stunned by the news that there had been a death. “I'm a nurse. I could help.”

“They'll be fine. Will's men are all trained in combat first-aid. He's very thorough. That's why I hired him.”

He started driving. She stared out the windshield and tried to come to terms with all that had happened in the past few hours.

“I'm sorry I was captured,” she said. “I wasn't trying to make trouble.”

“The fault is mine. I shouldn't have allowed you to come here. I should have ignored my father.”

“Hard to do when he's the king.”

Reyhan clutched the steering wheel more tightly. “He presumes too much and plays games with us all. This one could have cost you your life. I will never forgive him for that.”

The force of his words stunned her. “Reyhan, he didn't know. None of us knew.”

“Agreed. But it was a possibility.”

He was acting as if he cared. This from the man who couldn't wait to divorce her. Thoughts swirled in her head. She felt exhausted.

He read her mind. “Close your eyes,” he told her. “Rest.”

“No. I want to stay awake and keep you company on the drive.” The storm still swirled around them and made visibility nearly impossible.

“I know my way.”

She supposed he would. This was his land, his desert. She leaned against the side of door and let her eyes drift closed. Maybe she would relax for a couple of minutes. What could it hurt?

Emma drifted off to sleep. She didn't know how long she'd been out, but she was awakened by a horrible crashing as the truck roared into what looked like the side of a mountain.

For a second, she was disoriented. Not sure where she was or why, she frantically glanced around. When she saw Reyhan slumped over the steering wheel, her memory returned and with it, panic.

Had they run off the road? Why had he driven into the rocks? She unfastened her seat belt and scrambled across the bench seat, then eased Reyhan into a sitting position.

His face was unscathed. She checked for bumps and bruises, but there weren't any. He hadn't hit his head.

“Reyhan,” she called frantically. “Can you hear me?”

He didn't answer.

Why was he unconscious? She began to check for other injuries. First his shoulders, then his arms. She slid her hand down his side and drew them back when she felt wetness. Blood covered her right hand.

“No!” she whispered, horrified and afraid. The thick stickiness told her he'd been bleeding for some time. Reality crashed in on her.

“You were shot,” she breathed. “Oh, God. It can't be.” Hadn't he known?

She glanced around frantically. She had to get him somewhere that she could examine him. Maybe the back of the truck. But without a first-aid kit, what could she do? She didn't even know where they were.

He stirred and groaned.

“Reyhan? Can you hear me? You've been shot.”

He opened his eyes. “It's nothing.”

“You're bleeding and you passed out.”

He blinked at her, then stared out the front of the truck. “We're at the caves,” he said.

“At them? We're practically in them.” She looked at the crumpled front of the truck. “I'm not sure it's going to still run. Are we close to the security camp?”

He shook his head, then groaned. “We're at the Desert Palace. My aunt's house. Through the caves. We need to go through the caves.”

Emma wasn't sure if he was delirious or not. But if there was a house nearby, maybe she could get some help.

She stepped out onto the ground. The storm had lessened to the point where she could see the landscape around them. They were in some kind of small canyon with the front of the truck mashed up against a sheer rock wall. To the right was an opening to a cave.

She turned in a slow circle and saw nothing. Not a road, not a building, not a hint of life. They were truly alone.

The fear returned and with it a conviction that she wouldn't let Reyhan die. She couldn't. He might not care about her, but she loved him.

She crossed into the mouth of the cave. The opening was huge with the ceiling soaring up what looked like two stories. There was a small chest to the right of the opening and she crossed to it.

She opened it and inside she found flashlights, batteries, water, food and a first-aid kit. When she turned back to the truck, she screamed. Reyhan leaned against the entrance. He was pale, shaking and bleeding.

“What are you doing?” she demanded as she raced back to him. “Stay still. You can't lose any more blood.”

“It's about two miles that way,” he said, pointing into the cave. “You'll have to pull the truck into the cave, then help me walk the rest of the way.”

“You're not walking two miles anytime soon,” she told him. “We'll camp right here until help arrives.”

“Not likely soon, and there aren't enough supplies,” he said, and winced.

She glanced at the food and water provided and knew he was right. The trunk provided emergency rations, not enough to live on.

“One thing at a time,” she told him. “I have to get you bandaged up. Then we'll talk about moving you.”

“We have to make the trip before dark,” he said. “There's not much time.”

A
ware of the passage of time, Emma worked quickly. She pulled all the supplies out of the trunk and was relieved to find a blanket folded in the bottom. Once she had everything gathered, she helped Reyhan into a seated position.

His robes came off easily. Once she'd tossed them aside she could see the bloodstained shirt clinging to his torso. He barely hissed as she took off the drenched cotton, even when it pulled in places. When she was done, she examined the wound.

The bullet had gone through him. She had no way of knowing if anything vital had been damaged nor could she have fixed anything if it had.

Her emergency training came back to her and she worked quickly, grateful for her stint in the emergency room back home. Less than twenty minutes later she'd nearly stopped the bleeding, which meant she could finish bandaging the wound.

She was shaken, scared and ready for someone to rescue them, but she had a feeling they were on their own until she could figure out a way to call for help.

She crouched in front of Reyhan and smooth back his sweat-soaked hair. “I'm done,” she whispered. “It shouldn't hurt so badly now.”

“I'm fine.”

She doubted that, but while the first-aid kit had plenty of bandages and antiseptic, there hadn't been any painkillers.

“Is there a cell phone I can use?” she asked. “Can I call for help?”

“In the Desert Palace,” he said between clenched teeth. He sucked in a breath and rolled to his knees, then started to stand.

She clutched his arm. “You can't. We'll stay here.”

“No. We go now. There's little time.”

She glanced outside and figured they had about two hours left of daylight. Depending on how fast they could move, they had a chance of getting to the palace by dark. But it wasn't a sure thing.

“We should wait and go in the morning.”

He looked at her. “You don't want to face what roams the desert at night.”

Good point.

She collected their supplies and put them in the blanket, then knotted the ends together so she could wear it like a sling. She had them each drink some water, then she got Reyhan to his feet and leaned him against the wall. Finally she went out to the truck.

Surprisingly it started. She maneuvered it into the cave where it sputtered and died before she had a chance to turn off the ignition. So much for the backup plan of trying to find the camp via the truck.

She took one of the flashlights and handed the other to Reyhan. Then standing on his injured side, she took as much of his weight as she could.

It was slow going. She didn't want to think how much his side must hurt him or how weak and out of it he must feel from the blood loss. But he didn't complain, didn't slow down. He moved steady, at a pace that stunned her, turning left, then right, going deeper and deeper into the mountain, following directions only he could recognize.

There were hundreds of places to get lost, she thought nervously as they came to yet another fork in the path. Reyhan went to the left, passed three other trails, before picking the fourth.

Despite the distance they'd traveled, Emma knew they weren't going deeper underground because there were bits of light filtering through the rocks above. Although as time passed, the light seemed to get more and more dim.

“We're nearly there,” he said, his voice low and raspy.

She stopped and urged him to lean against the wall. “Have some water,” she said. “You're dehydrated.”

He took the water and drank. His willingness to listen to her told her just how badly he'd been hurt.

They started walking again.

After about twenty minutes, Reyhan spoke. “There's a satellite phone in the office,” he said. “Find it tonight and put it out in the courtyard tomorrow. There's a solar cell. It will take twelve hours to charge.”

Twelve hours? That meant they couldn't call for help until tomorrow night. What if Reyhan was bleeding to death on the inside? What if the bullet had pierced his intestines or his spleen or…?

The path blurred and she realized she was crying. Blinking away the tears, she did her best to ignore the panic filling her and think about what was important. They'd survived this long. She could manage emergency first aid. Any crisis could be dealt with at the time. They would survive—she would make sure of it. She hadn't come this far and realized she loved him only to lose him now.

Nearly a half hour later, she realized the sun was definitely setting. Soon it would be completely dark except for the light from their flashlights. Her body ached from Reyhan leaning on her. She was tired, hungry and thirsty. If she felt this bad, he must feel a hundred times worse.

She was about to ask how much farther when he stopped and pointed. “There.”

Emma peered into the murky darkness and saw what looked like a solid stone wall.

“It's a dead end,” she said, fighting both panic and resignation. They weren't going to make it.

He glanced at her and raised his eyebrows.

“Do not believe everything you see. Go stand in front of the wall.”

She made sure he was leaning against the rocks before shrugging off his arm and approaching the wall. She pressed her hand against the stones.

“Cold and solid.”

“The bricks are a grid,” he said. “Count across from left to right and down from top to bottom. Three over and five down. Push.”

She blinked in the darkness, then did as he requested. The stone moved. Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.

“It's working.”

“Of course it is,” he said, and gave her the next instruction.

So they went for a total of eight stones. On the last one, there was an audible click, then the stone wall swung in like a well-oiled door. The ground changed from uneven rock to polished stone and slowly sloped up.

“We are here,” he said, and walked into the palace.

Emma followed him. Reyhan kept his balance by pressing one hand against the wall and holding his flashlight with the other. At the top of the ramp, they entered what appeared to be a basement or cellar. He turned a lever and the stone door swung shut.

“There is a short flight of stairs,” he said. “On the main floor are several bedrooms, the kitchen and the office. You'll find the satellite phone in there.”

He crossed the open area and headed for a flight of stairs at the far end. Emma was surprised that he barely limped. It was as if being in the Desert Palace gave him strength.

“Is there food and water?” she asked.

“Yes. No fresh food, but staples. And fresh water is always available. There's an underground spring.”

He climbed the stairs, slowly only slightly toward the top. She saw blood seeping through his bandage and winced. “You need to lie down,” she told him.

“Soon.”

At the top of the stairs was another door. This one had a knob. He turned it and they stepped into a beautifully tiled hallway. The air was cool but fresh and there were still hints of sunlight coming in through large windows.

“There are battery-operated lanterns,” he said. “Several in each room.”

He moved down the hallway, pausing only to point out the direction to the kitchen, the placement of the office and where the wing of bedrooms began.

He entered the first one, made his way to the bed, sat down and passed out before he could put his head on the pillow.

Fear returned but by now Emma was familiar with the knot in her stomach and the tightness in her chest. She ignored it and went to work.

After setting down the supplies she carried, she found the battery-powered lantern in the room and clicked it on. Then she made sure Reyhan was comfortable on the bed and checked his wound.

The seepage from before had stopped, which was a relief. So far there was no red, swollen flesh to indicate infection. Was it possible they'd gotten off relatively easily?

Confident he was all right for the moment, she took one of the flashlights and did a quick search of the main floor of the large house.

There were over a dozen rooms on this level and at least three staircases. The kitchen was huge and well stocked. Cold water gushed from the faucet. She found a propane-heated stove and oven, along with an empty refrigerator that probably needed a generator in order to run.

In the book-lined office, she found a case on the big desk that looked somewhat like a phone. She made a mental note to stick that outside sometime tonight so that it could start charging in the morning.

None of the four downstairs bathrooms offered a first-aid kit, so she returned to the kitchen and went into the pantry. Sure enough, on the bottom shelf was an assortment of medical supplies to supplement what had been in the first-aid kit in the case.

She collected what she needed and returned to Reyhan's room.

He hadn't moved. She checked his temperature, which was normal, then changed the bandage and decided to wait on everything else. If he regained consciousness, she would see if he could drink water and eat. If he didn't…she would face that problem later.

She returned to the kitchen where she dumped the old bandages and opened a can of soup. She ate it cold, too tired to bother with trying to heat it. After swallowing the contents and three full glasses of water, she made use of one of the luxury bathrooms, then returned to Reyhan's room.

He was still cool to the touch and there wasn't any more bleeding. She had no way to tell about internal injuries, but she was hopeful that he'd been very lucky and that the bullet had missed everything.

Weary behind words, she curled up next to him on the bed and closed her eyes. Just for a few minutes, she told herself. She still had to get the phone outside and figure out what she was going to feed him when he woke….

 

Someone stroked her hair. Emma felt the light touch even in her sleep and smiled. She was warm all over and rested and in just a second she would open her eyes and see—

Consciousness returned and with it the memories of what had happened the previous day. She sat up and realized it was morning and Reyhan was awake.

“Good morning,” he said.

She stared at him, at his bare chest and the clarity in his eyes. His color was good. Except for the white bandage at his waist, she wouldn't have known he'd ever been injured.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Good. A little sore, but otherwise fine. I am hungry and thirsty.”

“Positive signs.” She touched his forehead. “No fever?”

“Not that I can feel.”

Suddenly aware that she was pressed against him and that they were on a bed, she shifted toward the edge then stood.

“Let me check your bandage. If there's no sign of infection, we can all breathe a little easier.”

She removed the dressing. The wound was clean, the surrounding skin pale.

“It's already healing,” she told him.

“Good. Then we can eat.”

He swung his legs to the floor and stood. She hovered by his side, but he seemed fine. Strong and capable. Once again the prince and no longer the man who needed her.

“I would like a shower,” he said.

“Me, too, but there's no hot water. At least there wasn't last night.”

“The water heater needs to be turned on. I'll take care of that if you want to start on breakfast.”

She nodded and followed him out of the room. He didn't even sway as he walked, she thought, amazed by his powers of recovery. As they passed the office, she remembered the telephone and collected it. Reyhan disappeared into a small room behind the pantry while she took the phone out into the courtyard and opened the case so the rising sun would charge the solar cell. Then she took a moment and looked around at the lush, nondesertlike garden in the middle of a three-story sand-and-stone house.

Plants bloomed and trailed everywhere. She couldn't name the various pink, red and white flowers, but she could inhale their sweet fragrance. Water trickled through several fountains and circled the garden before flowing into a stone-lined pond.

No doubt the underground spring was responsible for the flow of water. Emma sighed as she caught sight of a bench in the corner and a small grassy patch. This was a dream house—somewhere she could happily stay forever.

She left the courtyard garden and returned to the kitchen. By the time she'd put together a meal, Reyhan had returned with word that there would soon be hot water. He'd also started the generator.

“We'll have immediate electricity,” he said. “We have to use it sparingly until the solar panels start working. Hot water will take an hour or so.”

“There's nothing like a day in the desert to make one grateful for the little things,” she said, smiling as if being alone with him was no big deal. As if she didn't remember how scared she'd been when she'd found out he'd been shot, and how much he'd hurt her, before they'd left, with his agreement that it was time for her to go home.