There was blood everywhere. Everywhere. Soaking into the ground, coating her body, thick in her hair. He didn’t know where to touch her without hurting her. She had four deep rake marks down her back; the claws had cut through muscle and tissue. Two puncture wounds at her shoulder. One terrible rake from the top of her hip all the way to her knee, and it was deep. The leopard had ripped her open.

Elijah was afraid of turning her over, afraid of what he would see. He didn’t even realize he was silently praying, his fingers gentle in her hair, pulling it back away from her face. Blood coated his fingers, her hair sticky with it. His heart sank. Fear was metallic. “Baby,” he said softly. “I’m right here. He’s gone. I’m right here.”

He couldn’t see her chest moving up and down. She didn’t look as if she was breathing, and he had to feel her pulse. He had to know she was alive. He circled her throat with his palm and was still. Listening. Feeling. There it was.

“I’ve got to pick you up, Siena. It’s going to hurt, baby, but I’ll be as gentle as I can. We have a helicopter and we’ll get you to a hospital.” He wasn’t certain she could hear him, but he wanted to reassure her. He needed to reassure himself.

Very, very gently he rolled her partially over, careful not to let any of the rake marks touch the rotting vegetation. The breath left his lungs. His stomach dropped. The leopard had ripped her face open from her temple to the top of her cheek and it was a deep gash. She must have rolled immediately into the fetal position because that was the only laceration on her front that he could see.

“We’ve got to get moving,” Jake hissed. He had pulled on his jeans and was tugging his shirt in place. “I’ve called for Doc to meet us at the pad on the roof. He knows the injuries are severe and that she’s one of us. He’s the best, Elijah. You know he’ll take care of her. Trey can take the car back.”

Elijah didn’t know if anyone could take care of her. She’d lost blood. A lot of it. He’d never seen anyone so torn up. As gently as possible, he lifted her into his arms, the worst laceration on her hip facing away from him, but that meant her ripped face was against his chest and his arm was a band across the furrows on her back. He could see swelling on her face and on both hands. She’d fought her attacker. She’d fought him hard.