Bound By Darkness
Page 15
She marched away, her shoulders squared, her heart aching. Darn that man anyway! How did all this go spinning so far out of control? No matter how hateful Larem had been, he’d still risked his life to save hers.
Her father might think all Others were a subhuman life-form, but she now knew better. Clearly Larem was a man of honor, one who was suffering because of what that honor had just demanded of him. All because of her.
Okay, so she’d try one last time. But when she looked back, he was already walking away.
“Larem? About what you did—thank you.”
For a second she thought he might have slowed down, but he never glanced back. It was surprising how much that hurt. She ignored the renewed pain and moved on down the hall herself.
After everything that had happened, it was tempting to call it quits for the day. But she couldn’t—wouldn’t. No, she’d return to her office until she knew the situation was under control. If things were bad enough, as the Regents’ representative she might need to put in a call for assistance from another sector, either in the form of supplies or even for reinforcements until the Seattle Paladins were back at full strength.
A certain Kalith warrior wasn’t the only one who understood the meaning of duty.
Larem walked laps around the halls of the Paladin headquarters. How many times had he passed by Devlin’s office? Did it matter? No. It did occur to him that the circular route was symbolic of what his life had become—an endless struggle to get nowhere.
And wasn’t he just the perfect example of a pity party? That was another useful expression he’d learned from his roommate. He closed his eyes, praying that Lonzo was not among the dead. Granted, as a Paladin, he wouldn’t stay that way for long, but there was no guarantee he’d awaken the same man he’d been.
Larem managed a small smile while he thought about Lonzo Jones. The two of them had been thrown together by forces beyond their control. Larem had been dragged into this world because Lusahn q’Arc, the Sworn Guardian he’d served, had chosen a human lover—a Paladin at that—over any worthy male of their world. Not for the first time Larem wondered how different things would’ve been if he had gathered up the courage to speak for her himself, before her life had become entangled with Cullen Finley’s.
Instead, both she and Larem had been condemned to be executed as traitors. Lonzo had been part of the rescue party led by Cullen and Lusahn’s brother Barak. But as the group had fought its way back across the barrier, Lonzo had been badly injured, and Larem had saved the Paladin’s life. In payment of that debt, Lonzo had offered Larem a home and the use of his family name on the forged paperwork that made it possible for him to function in this world. Larem didn’t know which of them was more surprised by the fact they’d become fast friends.
What would his roomie think of Larem’s earlier stupidity? Not the part where he fought to save Sasha from those four Others—Lonzo would respect that. No, the part when he’d given in to the urge to kiss her again, not that Lonzo knew about the first time.
What had Larem been thinking? When he’d found her, she’d been only seconds from being raped and killed. Then what had he done? He cornered the woman in the elevator and forced himself on her. Shame made his skin run hot and then cold.
Although, as he thought back, at first she seemed startled, but within the space of a heartbeat or two, her mouth had softened, her tongue tangling with his. What had he hoped to accomplish by such foolishness? He’d be damned lucky if she didn’t issue orders to toss his carcass back across the barrier—or through it. Being fried would be just punishment for his twin sins of betraying his people and taking advantage of a woman in such a fragile state.
As he started yet another lap, the all clear finally sounded. For the first time in hours, the band of pressure across his chest relaxed enough for him to draw a full breath. He circled back to the elevators and waited. Once he knew how the Paladins had fared, he’d report in to Devlin and then go home.
He found a spot tucked out of the way of the emergency med techs waiting for the first batch of wounded to arrive. Only after the living were treated and stable would Laurel Young and the other Handlers start caring for the dead, hoping to ease their journey back to the living.
Larem might be able to help with that. His magic had certainly worked to bring Hunter Fitzsimon back from the dead. Somehow, though, he doubted Laurel or her boss would stand by and let Larem stab any of their patients through the heart on the off chance his magic would work again. Even so, his hand strayed to his Kalith knife and held on tight as the elevator doors slid open, bringing the scent of fresh blood.
Devlin walked out all but carrying a young Paladin who was new to Seattle. After surrendering his burden to the capable hands of the waiting techs, he patted the kid on the shoulder and murmured something that had the young recruit smiling through his pain.
Leave it to Devlin to know just the right thing to say. Then for a few seconds, the look of confidence on Devlin’s face slipped and his own exhaustion and pain showed through. Larem pushed his way past the growing crowd to the weary leader’s side.
Devlin’s eyes widened in surprise. “What do you want? You shouldn’t be anywhere near here right now.”
Larem latched on to Devlin’s thick arm and held on tight. “Stand still,” he ordered.
He quickly chanted one of the new spells he’d learned, pulling energy from the electric lights overhead. For a second their glow actually dimmed as he felt the healing power pour through him and into the Paladin.
“What the hell was that?” Devlin whispered as he jerked his arm free of Larem’s grasp.
For the first time in hours, Larem smiled. “That was me giving you enough energy to chew out my ass. What was I thinking?”
Devlin rested the point of his sword on the floor and leaned on the pommel for support. “And I want to do that why?”
Before Larem could reply, a voice in the back of the crowd yelled, “One of the Others escaped! Kill him!”
Devlin brought his sword back up into fighting position as they all looked around for the enemy. A guard unfamiliar to Larem stood pointing right at him from across the crowd. Then there was a bloodcurdling scream as a sword came slashing through the air straight at Larem. He blocked one blow with his own blade while Devlin wrestled the guard to the floor with the help of Trahern, who had just stepped off the elevator. The whole time, the guy kept screaming.
Larem backed away, hoping the guard would calm down if he got out of the line of sight. Instead of calming down, though, the guard continued to thrash, almost succeeding in bucking off his captors. “He’s getting away! He’s getting away! Kill him before he kills us!”
“Son of a bitch! Will somebody please tranq this guy?” Devlin bellowed.
One of the medics quickly filled a syringe and jabbed it into the guard’s arm. Larem had no idea what drug it was, but it was fast acting. The guard’s eyes rolled up in his head and his body went slack.
Devlin and Trahern stood aside to let the medics take over. When it seemed order had been restored, Devlin turned back to Larem. As soon as he did, he blinked twice and snagged the arm of one of the medics, pointing in Larem’s direction.
What were they looking at? Then he felt the warm drip, drip, drip along his leg. He glanced down to see the right side of his jeans was already soaked with blood—his blood. How had he missed noticing that the guard had actually landed a blow?
But now that he knew, the pain started, followed by waves of dizziness. He dimly heard someone shouting his name as the floor came rushing up to meet him. When the darkness threatened to overwhelm him, he fought against it, knowing it was a losing battle.
Devlin was cursing, but Larem was pretty sure that it was Trahern who’d drawn his sword and stood over him. Protecting him? Really? It was too much to assimilate, his thoughts too slippery to hold on to. Finally, it was just easier to embrace oblivion and let the world fade away.
Chapter 7
The numbers all blurred together and nothing added up. Sasha rubbed her eyes, hoping that it would help her make sense out of the data. But no, it was all still gibberish. There had to be a pattern lost somewhere in all those columns of numbers, and she was determined to find it. Just not now.
Yesterday had been a total disaster. Despite Lonzo’s note, she’d acted so stupidly, venturing down into the tunnels. And if in fact he hadn’t written the note, who had? And why? At this point, would anyone even believe her that the note actually existed?
No matter what, she definitely owed apologies to more than just Larem. Considering everything, she was surprised that Devlin hadn’t yet called to rip into her over what had happened.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than her phone rang. Ignoring it would be the coward’s way out, so she reached for the receiver and braced herself for the worst. But instead of a mighty roar, she was relieved to hear a different man’s voice—her father’s.
She punched the button to put him on speakerphone. “Hey, Dad, how are you?”
His familiar voice filled her office. “I’m fine. I’m more worried about how you’re doing.”
Guilt had her wincing. “Why? What have you heard?”
She regretted the words as soon as they slipped out.
“Nothing, but it sounds as if maybe I should have. What’s going on out there, Sasha?” His tone made it clear he’d tolerate no evasions.
She settled for a half-truth. “The barrier has been unstable in the region for a few days. You know how it is. That always makes things tense for everyone involved.”
Especially for her this time, not that she was going to tell her father about that. If he found out, the Regents would likely order her to catch the first plane back to St. Louis, and she’d spend the rest of her career counting paper clips to make sure everyone got their fair share.
Luckily, her father knew exactly how bad things could get whenever the barrier decided to yo-yo for days at a time. “How many casualties?”
“I’m waiting on the final report.” Or actually, any report at all, something she’d have to check into as soon as she got off the phone.
“If it keeps up, inform the Board in case we need to send in some temporary reinforcements.”
She really hoped it didn’t come to that. They both knew that if they pulled Paladins to help one area, that left someone else shorthanded. “I’ll let Devlin know when I talk to him.”
“Good idea.”
As he spoke, she could hear him tapping his pen on his desk, a sure sign he had something on his mind, most likely something she wouldn’t like. It wasn’t long in coming.
“So otherwise, how are you doing, Sasha? Got anything to report yet on the mess Kincade left behind?”
She so didn’t need the great inquisition every time they talked. “Are you asking as a Regent or as my father?”
Her father might think all Others were a subhuman life-form, but she now knew better. Clearly Larem was a man of honor, one who was suffering because of what that honor had just demanded of him. All because of her.
Okay, so she’d try one last time. But when she looked back, he was already walking away.
“Larem? About what you did—thank you.”
For a second she thought he might have slowed down, but he never glanced back. It was surprising how much that hurt. She ignored the renewed pain and moved on down the hall herself.
After everything that had happened, it was tempting to call it quits for the day. But she couldn’t—wouldn’t. No, she’d return to her office until she knew the situation was under control. If things were bad enough, as the Regents’ representative she might need to put in a call for assistance from another sector, either in the form of supplies or even for reinforcements until the Seattle Paladins were back at full strength.
A certain Kalith warrior wasn’t the only one who understood the meaning of duty.
Larem walked laps around the halls of the Paladin headquarters. How many times had he passed by Devlin’s office? Did it matter? No. It did occur to him that the circular route was symbolic of what his life had become—an endless struggle to get nowhere.
And wasn’t he just the perfect example of a pity party? That was another useful expression he’d learned from his roommate. He closed his eyes, praying that Lonzo was not among the dead. Granted, as a Paladin, he wouldn’t stay that way for long, but there was no guarantee he’d awaken the same man he’d been.
Larem managed a small smile while he thought about Lonzo Jones. The two of them had been thrown together by forces beyond their control. Larem had been dragged into this world because Lusahn q’Arc, the Sworn Guardian he’d served, had chosen a human lover—a Paladin at that—over any worthy male of their world. Not for the first time Larem wondered how different things would’ve been if he had gathered up the courage to speak for her himself, before her life had become entangled with Cullen Finley’s.
Instead, both she and Larem had been condemned to be executed as traitors. Lonzo had been part of the rescue party led by Cullen and Lusahn’s brother Barak. But as the group had fought its way back across the barrier, Lonzo had been badly injured, and Larem had saved the Paladin’s life. In payment of that debt, Lonzo had offered Larem a home and the use of his family name on the forged paperwork that made it possible for him to function in this world. Larem didn’t know which of them was more surprised by the fact they’d become fast friends.
What would his roomie think of Larem’s earlier stupidity? Not the part where he fought to save Sasha from those four Others—Lonzo would respect that. No, the part when he’d given in to the urge to kiss her again, not that Lonzo knew about the first time.
What had Larem been thinking? When he’d found her, she’d been only seconds from being raped and killed. Then what had he done? He cornered the woman in the elevator and forced himself on her. Shame made his skin run hot and then cold.
Although, as he thought back, at first she seemed startled, but within the space of a heartbeat or two, her mouth had softened, her tongue tangling with his. What had he hoped to accomplish by such foolishness? He’d be damned lucky if she didn’t issue orders to toss his carcass back across the barrier—or through it. Being fried would be just punishment for his twin sins of betraying his people and taking advantage of a woman in such a fragile state.
As he started yet another lap, the all clear finally sounded. For the first time in hours, the band of pressure across his chest relaxed enough for him to draw a full breath. He circled back to the elevators and waited. Once he knew how the Paladins had fared, he’d report in to Devlin and then go home.
He found a spot tucked out of the way of the emergency med techs waiting for the first batch of wounded to arrive. Only after the living were treated and stable would Laurel Young and the other Handlers start caring for the dead, hoping to ease their journey back to the living.
Larem might be able to help with that. His magic had certainly worked to bring Hunter Fitzsimon back from the dead. Somehow, though, he doubted Laurel or her boss would stand by and let Larem stab any of their patients through the heart on the off chance his magic would work again. Even so, his hand strayed to his Kalith knife and held on tight as the elevator doors slid open, bringing the scent of fresh blood.
Devlin walked out all but carrying a young Paladin who was new to Seattle. After surrendering his burden to the capable hands of the waiting techs, he patted the kid on the shoulder and murmured something that had the young recruit smiling through his pain.
Leave it to Devlin to know just the right thing to say. Then for a few seconds, the look of confidence on Devlin’s face slipped and his own exhaustion and pain showed through. Larem pushed his way past the growing crowd to the weary leader’s side.
Devlin’s eyes widened in surprise. “What do you want? You shouldn’t be anywhere near here right now.”
Larem latched on to Devlin’s thick arm and held on tight. “Stand still,” he ordered.
He quickly chanted one of the new spells he’d learned, pulling energy from the electric lights overhead. For a second their glow actually dimmed as he felt the healing power pour through him and into the Paladin.
“What the hell was that?” Devlin whispered as he jerked his arm free of Larem’s grasp.
For the first time in hours, Larem smiled. “That was me giving you enough energy to chew out my ass. What was I thinking?”
Devlin rested the point of his sword on the floor and leaned on the pommel for support. “And I want to do that why?”
Before Larem could reply, a voice in the back of the crowd yelled, “One of the Others escaped! Kill him!”
Devlin brought his sword back up into fighting position as they all looked around for the enemy. A guard unfamiliar to Larem stood pointing right at him from across the crowd. Then there was a bloodcurdling scream as a sword came slashing through the air straight at Larem. He blocked one blow with his own blade while Devlin wrestled the guard to the floor with the help of Trahern, who had just stepped off the elevator. The whole time, the guy kept screaming.
Larem backed away, hoping the guard would calm down if he got out of the line of sight. Instead of calming down, though, the guard continued to thrash, almost succeeding in bucking off his captors. “He’s getting away! He’s getting away! Kill him before he kills us!”
“Son of a bitch! Will somebody please tranq this guy?” Devlin bellowed.
One of the medics quickly filled a syringe and jabbed it into the guard’s arm. Larem had no idea what drug it was, but it was fast acting. The guard’s eyes rolled up in his head and his body went slack.
Devlin and Trahern stood aside to let the medics take over. When it seemed order had been restored, Devlin turned back to Larem. As soon as he did, he blinked twice and snagged the arm of one of the medics, pointing in Larem’s direction.
What were they looking at? Then he felt the warm drip, drip, drip along his leg. He glanced down to see the right side of his jeans was already soaked with blood—his blood. How had he missed noticing that the guard had actually landed a blow?
But now that he knew, the pain started, followed by waves of dizziness. He dimly heard someone shouting his name as the floor came rushing up to meet him. When the darkness threatened to overwhelm him, he fought against it, knowing it was a losing battle.
Devlin was cursing, but Larem was pretty sure that it was Trahern who’d drawn his sword and stood over him. Protecting him? Really? It was too much to assimilate, his thoughts too slippery to hold on to. Finally, it was just easier to embrace oblivion and let the world fade away.
Chapter 7
The numbers all blurred together and nothing added up. Sasha rubbed her eyes, hoping that it would help her make sense out of the data. But no, it was all still gibberish. There had to be a pattern lost somewhere in all those columns of numbers, and she was determined to find it. Just not now.
Yesterday had been a total disaster. Despite Lonzo’s note, she’d acted so stupidly, venturing down into the tunnels. And if in fact he hadn’t written the note, who had? And why? At this point, would anyone even believe her that the note actually existed?
No matter what, she definitely owed apologies to more than just Larem. Considering everything, she was surprised that Devlin hadn’t yet called to rip into her over what had happened.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than her phone rang. Ignoring it would be the coward’s way out, so she reached for the receiver and braced herself for the worst. But instead of a mighty roar, she was relieved to hear a different man’s voice—her father’s.
She punched the button to put him on speakerphone. “Hey, Dad, how are you?”
His familiar voice filled her office. “I’m fine. I’m more worried about how you’re doing.”
Guilt had her wincing. “Why? What have you heard?”
She regretted the words as soon as they slipped out.
“Nothing, but it sounds as if maybe I should have. What’s going on out there, Sasha?” His tone made it clear he’d tolerate no evasions.
She settled for a half-truth. “The barrier has been unstable in the region for a few days. You know how it is. That always makes things tense for everyone involved.”
Especially for her this time, not that she was going to tell her father about that. If he found out, the Regents would likely order her to catch the first plane back to St. Louis, and she’d spend the rest of her career counting paper clips to make sure everyone got their fair share.
Luckily, her father knew exactly how bad things could get whenever the barrier decided to yo-yo for days at a time. “How many casualties?”
“I’m waiting on the final report.” Or actually, any report at all, something she’d have to check into as soon as she got off the phone.
“If it keeps up, inform the Board in case we need to send in some temporary reinforcements.”
She really hoped it didn’t come to that. They both knew that if they pulled Paladins to help one area, that left someone else shorthanded. “I’ll let Devlin know when I talk to him.”
“Good idea.”
As he spoke, she could hear him tapping his pen on his desk, a sure sign he had something on his mind, most likely something she wouldn’t like. It wasn’t long in coming.
“So otherwise, how are you doing, Sasha? Got anything to report yet on the mess Kincade left behind?”
She so didn’t need the great inquisition every time they talked. “Are you asking as a Regent or as my father?”
