Desire Untamed (Feral Warriors #1)(76)

Ahead, the road curved, revealing a sea of brake lights.

Jag swore and slammed on the breaks.

"Where's that plane of yours when we need it, Tighe?" Paenther growled.

"About two hours west of here this time of night. If only we had Hawke." His words fell into the silence like rocks on glass. "The real Hawke," he amended. "When he could shift."

"He's still not answering his phone?" Jag asked.

"No," Paenther said, his voice grim. "None of them are."

Lyon stared at the stopped cars ahead. No way in hell was he sitting in traffic while Kara fought for her life. As the Hummer came to a complete stop, Lyon reached for the handle.

"I'm running. If you start moving again, pick me up."

He jumped out of the car, slammed the door, and took off along the shoulder. His speed in this form was, unfortunately, no faster than human, but he could keep it up indefinitely. And he was moving a hell of a lot faster than the cars.

His senses stayed on Kara. He couldn't feel her emotions from here and was almost glad for it. He knew she was terrified. If she was running, she'd figured out Hawke wasn't who she'd thought. If that clone caught her, she was going to be in pain.

His own fear was nearly more than he could bear—the fear that his senses would suddenly lose her, and he'd know that the only light that had ever shone in his soul had gone forever dark.

Kara ran for her life, down a steep embankment off the highway, toward a cluster of old buildings. Behind her she heard the blare of horns and looked over her shoulder. The man who was not Hawke had left his car in the middle of the Beltway and was chasing her, a large, lidded bucket swinging from one hand.

She knew what he intended to use the bucket for. To take her blood back to Zaphene. The witch would use it to free the High Daemon and his horde who, in turn, would try to destroy the Ferals. He couldn't get her blood. Never mind that she'd probably die in the process.

Even running as fast as she could, the man was faster, his legs longer. Too late, she realized she'd run into a dead end, a loading dock that was closed and deserted. Her heart stuttered. Sweat rolled between her br**sts as she turned around, her skirt flaring around her legs, but the man blocked her escape, his arms spread wide as if daring her to try to get past him.

She wouldn't make it. He was too fast.

Instead, she dashed toward one of three doors lining the loading dock and pulled, praying it was unlocked, but nothing happened. With a groan of frustration, she started for the second, but she never made it. The creature grabbed her from behind and threw her against the wall. Her head collided with concrete.

Dimly, through a haze of pain, she was aware of being dragged to the edge of the raised sidewalk and pinned, facedown,, with a knee to her back. She heard the echo of plastic against plastic and the clatter of the bucket being dropped to the ground several feet below. As her head started to clear, the pressure in her back released long enough for her to be pushed forward until her head and shoulders extended over the edge.

She struggled against the impending fall, but the knee slammed into her back, pinning her hard. A hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back.

Her eyes swam with tears at the pulling at her scalp. Her pulse thudded. "Are you going to kill me?"

"My mission is to retrieve your blood. Your body is ho longer important to my mistress. I will devour your life force."

"What are you?"

"I am what I am."

"Is he… is Hawke dead?"

"I cannot live unless he lives."

Thank God for small favors. But the gleam of metal caught her eye and she knew Hawke's survival was the only good news she was going to get.

The searing pain of the knife slicing her tender throat nearly sent her into oblivion. The drip of her blood into the bucket sounded obscenely loud, growing into a steady stream before it slowed again as her body healed. He sliced her throat again.

A second later, he yanked her sweater off her shoulder and sank his teeth into her flesh.

Her scream caught in her throat, finding no way out. Tears ran down her cheeks to mix with her blood as she felt him stealing her energy. Her life. Just like the draden had tried to do.

But the pain of the wounds was nothing compared to the pain in her heart. Lyon. He'd find her too late. And he needed her.

She couldn't die.

She wouldn't die, dammit.

In the far reaches of her mind she remembered Lyon's voice telling her draden couldn't feed off her in full radiance.

But radiance had to come through the fire and she needed Earth. No going radiant in the house, Lyon had said. And the concrete would block her just as surely as the house's floor would.

Lyon.

Her love for him turned to desperation. She had to live. For him, she had to live.

The Earth. Connect to the Earth. Struggling to free herself from the fear and the pain, she sent her senses outward. She felt the wind caressing her damp cheeks. Wind. Air. These were of the Earth.

She pulled. Like a vacuum, she pulled and pulled.

Her senses caught on Lyon. Running. Anguish.

She could feel herself growing weaker. Dammit, she refused to die!

With a furious effort, Kara called on every scrap of energy left in her body and pulled, envisioning the fire, the radiance.

Envisioning Lyon.

For a moment, she felt him. His determination melding with hers. His power.