Free Chained by REBECCA YORK Page A

of us was free to admit
it. I think that drew him back to the ranch. Then I came here to hide out, and
he attacked me. I mean, he was using the wind to slam me against the stable.
    “When he realized it was me, he stopped, and he said my
name. He kept coming back to me over the next day and a half, responding to me.
The closer we got, the more real he seemed to me—and to himself. He remembered
things like the raid. He thought he had been killed. We both thought that until
you told me he’d been wounded.” She gave him a pleading look. “I think I can .
. . help him come back all the way.”
    “Or you were so off balance that you wished he was there and
dreamed the whole thing.”
    “Then how do I know about Powder Keg?”
    He shook his head. “That’s the part I can’t figure out. The
name of the operation was classified.”
    “And I know it because he told it to me. To use with you.
Please. Let me try to save him.”
    He seemed torn, and she waited with her heart pounding,
afraid that he was going to herd her toward the helicopter. But she wasn’t
going to surrender. He’d have to drag her away. Or shoot her.
    Centuries slid by as she waited for his answer. Finally, to
her vast relief, he gave her a tight nod.
    “Thank you.” She might have thrown her arms around him and
hugged him tight, if she’d thought he would accept that from her.
    “What do you want me to do?” Decorah asked.
    “We have to take him to the vortex.”
    “Which is what exactly”
    “A place of power out here in the desert. Where psychic
energy is multiplied and prayer is more effective.”
    He shook his head. “If you say so. Come on. Before I decide
I’ve gone insane.”
    Tears of relief welled in her eyes, and she fought to hold
them back. She pointed toward the outcropping of rocks. “I think over there is
the best place for him.”
    Decorah and the driver helped her get Matthew onto the
wheeled stretcher. Then she and the security man half pulled, half carried the
stretcher to the rocks.
    “In there.” Isabella pointed to the sheltered place inside a
group of rocks.
    Decorah did as she asked, then took a step back, moving
awkwardly.
    “You hurt your leg?” she asked.
    “A long time ago. Don’t worry about it,” he snapped.
     She wanted to send him away from the ranch, but she was
sure he wouldn’t leave.
    He looked at Matthew, lying still and pale on the stretcher.
    “How long is this going to take?” he asked.
    “I’m not sure.”
    “You have an hour.”
    Was that long enough? She had no way of knowing, but she
suspected pleading for more time would be a waste of breath.
    When Decorah had stepped out of sight around the rocks, she
breathed out a small sigh and turned to Matthew.
    “He’s gone, but he didn’t give us much time.”
    Panic seized her, but she fought to keep it from
overwhelming her.
    Instead, she opened herself to the vortex, calling on its
power, letting herself feel the vibrations in the air around her.
    At the same time, she spoke to the unconscious man she had
brought here.
    “Matt, we’re at the ranch. Your body was at Garrison Care in
Los Angeles, but your soul came here. You have to bring the two parts back
together.”
    He didn’t answer, but she kept talking to him, touching him.
    “You recognized me when I came here to hide out. Come back
to me now. We were so close out here. Please, I want that again. For both of
us.”
    When he didn’t respond she had to hold back a sob. “Don’t
you feel the power of this place? Feel it all around you. It’s like a vibration
in the air. A healing vibration.”
    Again when he didn’t move or speak, she looked back over her
shoulder to make sure Decorah couldn’t see them.
    Fear and uncertainty clawed at her. If her plan didn’t work,
her heart would fracture.
    With a little sob, she climbed onto the stretcher, lying on
top of the unconscious man, holding him, kissing his face, stroking his arms,
trying in every way she could to make him