Chapter 26 #4
“You,” Nostrus spat, swaying as he tugged on something, “and your fucking vermin offspring—”
Shay pulled the trigger. The blaster’s high, thumping whine was diminished under the corridor’s sound dampeners. It was a muted, anticlimactic sound, an unimportant sound, an inconsequential sound.
It was the perfect sound to mark Nostrus’s death.
“You don’t get to talk about my mate or my baby,” she said softly.
Nostrus remained on his knees, unmoving, for several seconds.
Faint wisps of smoke drifted up from the neat, dark hole on the back of his head.
The smells of charred flesh and burned hair were strong in the air.
There was no nausea this time, not even as Nostrus finally pitched forward and collapsed unceremoniously on the floor. A blaster fell from his left hand.
Shay’s arm trembled as she lowered her weapon.
No such thing as a pretty fight, Shay, her father said in the back of her mind.
She chuckled humorlessly as warm blood flowed from her numerous cuts, as every muscle and bone in her body ached, as her head throbbed.
She wished she hadn’t had to go through this to hear her dad’s voice so clearly again.
She wished that his lessons had never proven necessary.
But more than all that, she wished that her daughter would never have to learn such lessons firsthand.
From somewhere far away, a voice called her name.
Don’t have time to go crazy, Shay. Need to get to Leah.
The voice sounded again, a little louder. Furrowing her brow, Shay lifted her gaze, tentatively raising the blaster along with it.
A big, beautiful, dun-colored azhera was sprinting down the corridor toward her, the vibrant green of his eyes clear even from forty meters away. An equally big, stupid grin stretched across her lips.
Drakkal?
“What a good, pretty kitty,” she muttered. She stumbled backward, feet slipping on the blood-slick floor. Her arm fell limply to her side once she’d caught her balance, and the blaster slipped from her fingers. All at once, her body felt weak, sapped of every ounce of energy.
“Shay!” Drakkal called, his voice sounding so, so real.
Tears stung her eyes.
The last time she’d seen him was when Murgen’s guards had hauled him into Vanya’s transport.
He’d been taken away from Shay. He’d been stolen from her.
As he drew nearer still, she noticed the people running behind him—Thargen, Urgand, and Sekk’thi.
But they didn’t know anything about any of this. There was no way they could be here.
Guess I really have lost my mind.
This wasn’t a convenient time or place to lose her shit—not that any time or place was convenient—but the evidence was right there. Full-blown audio-visual hallucinations.
Drakkal skidded to a halt in front of her, his toe claws scraping across the floor.
It seemed a very specific detail for a hallucination.
Her legs trembled, and she sagged toward him.
His arms were around her in an instant, strong and warm, pulling her against his body.
Heat wafted from him, warming her too cold skin.
He was wet and smelled strongly of blood, but beneath that, she detected the leather and cloves scent that was all him.
“Kraasz ka’val, kiraia,” he breathed, hugging her tighter.
She must have made a sound, a whimper or a grunt of pain, because he immediately drew back, dipping his gaze to take her in. She swept her eyes over him slowly, as though he’d vanish any second; her brain still couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing, feeling, and smelling.
There was blood splattered in his fur and over his armor, but he hadn’t been wearing armor before. Hell, he hadn’t been wearing that arm, either.
Drakkal’s features were strained with worry as he turned his head to look behind him. “Urgand! Over here now!”
“You’re really here,” Shay breathed, placing a hand on his chest. She knew she wouldn’t be able to make sense of his presence right now. She knew, also, that it didn’t matter. He was here.
He looked at her again and frowned, lifting his right hand to her face. He delicately brushed the pad of his thumb beneath the cut on her cheek. “I’m here. Everything’s going to be fine now.”
Drakkal guided her to sit on the floor, easing himself down behind her and slipping his right arm around her middle. She leaned back against his chest as Urgand knelt in front of her. Wearing a frown as deep and concerned as Drakkal’s, Urgand quickly set about examining her wounds.
Shay’s sense of surrealness didn’t diminish. She felt Urgand’s gentle pokes and prods, but the pain was distant now. She tipped her head back against Drakkal’s shoulder and stared up at him. Impossible as it seemed, he was here, here for her, here for…
Leah.
As much as she wanted to close her eyes and let the overwhelming relief coursing through her in that moment lull her to rest, she couldn’t. Not when Leah was still in Murgen’s grasp. Her heart beat rapidly against her ribs, and her breath quickened.
Shay placed a hand on Drakkal’s arm and squeezed it as desperation chased away her relief. “He still has Leah, Drak. She’s in that examination room with him now.”
“I know,” Drakkal said. “Arcanthus has eyes on them. We’ll get her.”
She tightened her grip on his arm, and it had nothing to do with the flare of pain as Urgand peeled the jacket’s fabric away from the cut on her hip. “I’m going with you.”
Drakkal’s brows fell, and he glanced at Urgand.
Urgand gently guided Shay to lean on her right hip, frown deepening. “These are going to need some work. More than I can do here. But I can get you patched up enough to stop the bleeding, at least.”
“Do it. Quickly,” Drakkal rumbled.
“I know, I know.” Urgand reached back to open a pouch on his belt and muttered, “Which of us was the fucking combat medic?”
“Damn, Shay. I thought you did a number on the first two bastards, but you really fucked up this volturian,” Thargen said.
Shay turned her head to look at Thargen.
He was drenched in blood, his face tattoos hidden amidst the crimson, and was in the process of flipping Nostrus’s body onto its back with his boot.
Her body jerked slightly as Urgand tore the jacket around her cuts.
She curled her lips into her mouth and bit them against the flashes of pain.
“One for the discomfort,” Urgand said as he pressed a tiny gun to her thigh and pulled the trigger.
There was a click and a prick on her skin.
He opened the device, removed the small cartridge from its chamber, and deftly loaded another before lowering the gun and repeating the process. “And one to keep you moving.”
A strange combination of warmth and coolness spread outward from the spot he’d injected her, slowly creeping in both directions along her leg.
“This the guy you told me about? The bodyguard or whatever?” Thargen asked, glancing at her.
Shay nodded. “That’s him.”
Thargen closed his mouth and sniffed in hard, producing a growling sound in his throat. Then he leaned down and spat a big, phlegmy wad of saliva into Nostrus’s face—or what was left of the volturian’s face. “Take that to the afterlife, you fuck.”
Urgand pinched the sides of the cut on her hip together with the fingers of one hand as he ran some sort of sealant gel along the wound. The gel’s sting was worse than the pain of the cut by a wide margin, making her suck in a sharp breath.
Drakkal pressed his face to Shay’s neck and shoulder, nuzzling her over the bite scar he’d given her. It provided her a moment’s distraction and comfort as the vorgal worked.
“Combination disinfectant and temporary sealant,” Urgand said without looking up. “It’ll hurt until the pain dampener kicks in.”
“A little warning beforehand would have been nice, but thanks.” Shay wrinkled her nose and hissed when he applied the sealant to the cut on her side. She looked up at Drakkal again. “How did you escape? How are you here? What about Vanya?”
“She’s dead.” Drakkal moved his left hand up to her head and combed his fingers through her tangled hair, stopping as they neared the back of her head. “A head wound, too, kiraia?”
“That one’s not too bad,” she said, even though that spot hurt like hell; when everything hurt, it made all of it less immediate. Fortunately, whatever Urgand had injected her with was gradually dulling all that pain.
“I wish he were still alive so I could kill him myself,” Drakkal snarled.
Shay’s lips twitched into a smile. “You’re so hot when you talk like that.”
One corner of Drakkal’s mouth tilted up, and he shook his head. Love and relief shone in his eyes, though they weren’t enough to overpower the worried gleam that had been in his gaze since he’d arrived. This wasn’t done yet.
Her smile fell, and Shay closed her eyes and laid her head on his chest. “I’ll be fine. I just want to get Leah and go home. I want this to be over.”
“Soon. Very soon.”
A pair of calloused but gentle fingertips settled around the cut on her cheek just before the gel flowed over it.
With the sting dulled, all she felt was a cool, slightly refreshing sensation, welcome after the heated fight with Nostrus.
Once that cut was done, Drakkal carefully guided her head forward.
Urgand repeated the process with the cut on the back of her head.
She felt Urgand move away when he was done.
Her pain had already receded into something distant, something she could safely ignore, and now her exhaustion was doing the same.
A tentative sort of energy flowed through her limbs; she still felt like shit, she knew that at heart, but she could keep going.
A few minutes ago…well, she’d been nearly out, hadn’t she?
Drakkal moved his hand down to cup her jaw and tilt her head back toward him. She opened her eyes to meet his fiery gaze.
He bared his fangs. “Let’s get our daughter, kiraia.”