She opened her purse and pulled out her cell phone, then stared at it in dismay. It was her phone from Loredana, which wouldn’t work in the US. She must have accidentally packed her regular phone in her suitcase. Which was in Singapore.
“Dammit!”
Her patient woke as if she’d fired a gun in the air. His body jerked, he sucked in a sudden breath, and his eyes flew open. They were blue as ice, and they fixed on her with an unsettling intensity.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
Level of consciousness: alert and responsive, Catalina thought.
She spoke in the soothing tones she always used on trauma victims. “I’m a paramedic. Is it all right if I help you?”
Legally, she had to ask permission before she did anything to anyone. Almost all of her patients automatically said yes.
The man patted his hip, then his shoulder. His eyes narrowed in a quick flicker of dismay. “I’ve lost my weapons. And I can’t—” He broke off, looking frustrated. “I can’t protect you. So no. I don’t give you permission to treat me. Get out of here.”
He struggled to get up, but only managed to get as far as propping himself on his elbows. More blood ran down his face. He clearly wasn’t going anywhere.
“Why don’t you lie back down?” Catalina suggested, turning up the soothing. “Just let me take a look at you.”
“No.” Most men raised their voices when they were angry or upset, but this man lowered his. It was more forceful than if he’d yelled.
“I’m a paramedic,” Catalina repeated. Sometimes trauma victims were too shocked or disoriented to take in what she said the first time. “I can help you. Can you tell me what happened?”
He might be a trauma victim, but he wasn’t disoriented. Those ice-blue eyes of his seemed to look right through her, as if he knew things about her that even she didn’t. “If you’re a paramedic, then you need my consent before you treat me. I’m not giving it. Take your phone and go. Once you’re in a safe place, call—”
“That phone doesn’t work in America,” she interrupted him.
The man let out an exasperated breath. He again tried to get up, and again failed.
“Why can’t you stand up?” Catalina asked. “Are you dizzy? Or is something wrong with your legs?”
“Both,” he muttered, sounding reluctant to admit it. “I’ve been drugged. They ambushed me with a tranquilizer rifle.”
“With a tranquilizer rifle?”
She’d once treated a woman who’d been the victim of friendly fire from zookeepers trying to take down an escaped capybara. Catalina had never heard of a capybara before, but it turned out to be a guinea pig the size of a sheep. It had been one of her all-time favorite calls. But that tranquilizer dart hadn’t caused dizziness and paralysis, it had immediately knocked the woman unconscious. And who would use one for an ambush? Criminal... veterinarians?
Then Catalina realized the important part of what he’d let slip. “If you’ve been drugged, it’s the same as if you were unconscious. I can assume that you would consent to treatment if you were in your right mind. So settle down. I just want to check you for life-threatening injuries.”
His eyebrows rose in disbelief, as if it was the first time in his life that anyone had the nerve to stand up to him. Then he took a deep breath, seeming to concentrate.
Her stomach clenched. Her palms tingled. Her heart began to pound. Nothing about the man had changed, but she suddenly knew he was dangerous. Very dangerous. Lethal. She had to run— she had to save herself—
The phone fell from her hand, the screen shattering. She scrambled to her feet, stumbling backward, desperate to get away.
But he hasn’t threatened me, she thought. He hasn’t attacked me.
He was still sprawled on the ground, bleeding, his gaze locked on hers. Deadly. Terrifying.
He’s injured. He can’t walk. He needs help.
All her instincts screamed at her to run. She was gasping, her pulse thundering in her ears, sweat pouring down her face and back. She’d never been so scared in her entire life.
Never abandon a patient.
It was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but Catalina took a step forward. Then another step. Then she dropped back down on her knees beside him.
Her terror vanished as if it had been switched off like a light. The man rested his head on his arms, exhaustion etching lines around his strong features.