Jade Star (Star Quartet 4)

“I remember hearing that one doctor walked up to the patient and began slapping him, still unable to believe that he wasn’t faking.”

That hadn’t happened, but it made a good story, so Saint only nodded to Dwight. “Now, if only we can get our colleagues to use ether on women in labor.” Saint knew Dwight Baldwin as a man of infinite compassion and caring for his fellowman, but like many men, religious or otherwise, he believed firmly that it was the scheme of things for a woman to undergo childbirth with nothing to ease her agony.

Today Dwight didn’t take the bait. He was silent for many moments, then said calmly, “I heard about Juliana DuPres.”

“Yes,” Saint said. “I told you about her adventure and mine last evening.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Dwight said, sighing.

“I know. I bet everyone has heard things,” Saint said. “It will pass. She’ll be all right.”

Dwight gave him an incredulous look, but Saint had turned to speak to an old man who used to bring him fresh fish at least three times a week. He’d set the old man’s broken leg and taken the fish as payment. Old Kama had simply never stopped bringing him fish.

Saint and Dwight Baldwin parted some minutes later. Saint made his way to the DuPres house, only to be told by Mrs. DuPres that Juliana had left. Saint thanked her, frowned, and set out to find her. He tracked her to the south of town.

When he heard her screaming wildly, frantically, his guts twisted. “Jules!”

He ran toward the sound, and broke through the bushes that blocked his view. He saw Jules on her back, thrashing and screaming, with John Bleecher on top of her, grinding his pelvis against her as he ripped at her clothes.

His mind went blank with rage. With a loud roar he launched himself upon the younger man.

“You goddamned little bastard!” he yelled, and grabbed John bodily off Jules. He smashed his fist into John’s gaping mouth, and the force of his blow sent the slighter man staggering back.

“You filthy pig,” Saint growled, “I’m going to break your bloody neck!”

Jules managed to pull herself upright. She saw Michael strike John, heard John’s yowl of pain. He would kill him! She saw her brother running toward them, and shouted at the top of her lungs, “Thomas! Help! For God’s sake, hurry!”

It was like trying to halt a train, Thomas thought frantically as he threw himself on Saint’s back. “You’ll kill him, Saint!”

Saint came out of the black, ungoverned rage as quickly as it had initially consumed him. He saw John Bleecher’s bloody nose, heard his moans of pain.

“What the hell is going on?” Thomas demanded.

Saint very slowly straightened, closing his eyes a moment. He said in an emotionless voice, “That little bastard was trying to rape your sister.” He smiled grimly. “I think he needs cooling off.”

Saint picked John up, one large hand grasping his collar, the other the seat of his breeches. He carried him to the ocean, waded in, and tossed him out into the waves, facedown.

He was still smiling when he came back to where Jules and Thomas were standing. It was a ghastly, grim smile.

The smile disappeared at the sight of Jules’s white face. She was standing rigidly still, her eyes staring at him but not really seeing him. “She’ll be all right,” he said more to himself than to Thomas. “Jules,” he said softly. He reached out for her, only to see her shudder and stumble backward.

Jules sank slowly to her knees. She raised wide, bewildered eyes to Saint. “He said I gave it to every other man and I should give it to him. He said Sarah told him what I’d done.”

“That stupid, jealous bitch!”

“Enough, Thomas,” Saint said, turning briefly toward the young man.

Suddenly it was too much. Jules saw herself sprawled naked on Wilkes’s bunk, saw him touching her, leering at her. She felt John grinding his body against hers. She clutched her arms about herself and rocked back and forth on her heels. “No, no, no,” she said softly, her voice singsong.

“Oh God, Saint,” Thomas whispered, terrified. “Do something!”

“Take John away from here, Thomas,” Saint said quietly. “Leave me alone with her. Don’t let anyone else come along, all right?”

John was staggering toward them, and Thomas quickly turned to run to him. Saint saw Thomas grab John’s arm none too gently and drag him off. Thomas said something, but Saint couldn’t make out his words.

He waited a few more minutes, then dropped to his knees in front of Jules. He clasped her chin in his hand and lifted her face. Her eyes were wide and unseeing, her lips still moving, her only words “No, no . . .” He slapped her hard, and caught her so she wouldn’t fall. He saw her blink, shudder, then cry out softly. Gently he drew her against him, rocking her in the circle of his arms. “It’s all right now, Jules. Everything is all right. No man will ever hurt you again. I promise.”

And he included himself in that promise.