Storm's Heart (Elder Races #2)(110)

“My gods, he’s an abomination.” Naida’s breathing sounded in her ear, as harsh and ragged as her own.

She said between her teeth, “I told you this was not going to go the way you thought it would.”

His head bowed. He sagged forward. Tiago.

Behind them, Cameron said in a hard, cold voice, “Drop the knife, Naida.”

Cameron sounded so confident and her words seemed so misplaced, Naida actually twisted around with Niniane to look. Niniane tried to turn her head to keep her eyes on Tiago, but Naida’s hand was clenched so tight on her jaw she couldn’t move.

Cameron stood ten feet away. One side of her face had already blackened from Durin’s blow. She had both of Niniane’s derringers, the gun in one hand pointed to the ground. She held the other gun aimed at Naida’s head.

“Do you think I would give up my only leverage now, especially for such a stupid and ignorant bluff as this?” Naida said. “Your weapons technology does not work here, human.” She said to Niniane, “Get up. We will have to make for Adriyel, you and I, and then we will see what Urien’s old supporters think of you—”

Naida started upright. Niniane didn’t move. She didn’t know if it was a smart thing to do or not. She simply could not leave Tiago.

Naida screamed in her ear, “Get up right now, or I will gut you in front of everyone!”

“Risk and benefit, huh,” Cameron said with a grim smile. She pulled the trigger.

The gun exploded.

There was too much blood, of course.

The beast kept his face turned toward his mate as he fell to the ground. He kept his face turned toward her even though a haze came over his sight and blanked out the farthest reaches of the clearing so that he could no longer see her.

Someone with a tawny head bent over him. He almost lunged upward to tear out this one’s throat too, but the tawny-haired one had a scent that was long familiar, and so the beast held back to watch and wait.

“Goddamn, T-bird, look at what you’ve done to yourself this time,” said the familiar one. He took hold of the sword’s hilt and pulled it out. The beast hissed at the liquid burning slide as the blade left his flesh. The tawny male tore off his shirt and pressed the wadded material against the beast’s wound, and shouted, “ARYAL. Why isn’t he starting to heal? Here, put pressure here.”

Another familiar one knelt beside him, her eyes blazing with fear and fury, but it wasn’t his mate. “Got it.”

Then his mate was there, his beautiful, precious mate. His world had burst out of his chest when he had returned to the tent to find she had gone missing. Now she brought it back to him, and it was such a blessed relief to see and smell her—but she had bled from her wrists and neck—he snarled as he caught the fresh scent of her blood and struggled to rise up and slaughter the ones who had done this to her—

“Somebody cut me loose,” his mate said. “Oh gods, Tiago, stay down.”

He subsided and sighed as she bent close to press her cheek to his. “Only one person,” he whispered to her. “Only one thing.”

“I can’t lose you,” she said. Rune cut her hands free, and she wiped the blood off Tiago’s face. She pressed her lips against his. She was trembling. “You have to fight for us. Fight as hard as you can, do you hear me? Hold on.”

Always.

“He’s talking to her but he hasn’t come out of the partial shift, and he’s still bleeding out,” said Aryal between her teeth. “What the hell is wrong? We’re going to lose him unless someone figures out what to do right now.”

“It’s the shackles,” his mate said suddenly. “Urien made them to imprison Wyr—they suppress a Wyr’s Power. These are the ones that held Dragos and we need the key—” She pushed to her feet and raced away, and his world grew dim again. “It isn’t in her pack!”

His mate raced back. She fell to her knees beside his head. She was crying.

Rune surged to his feet. “Help him, Carling!”

That was when he saw the other woman who stood nearby. She regarded the scene with an expression of mild curiosity, her gaze vague and unfocused. “That is not within my purview as Councillor of the Elder tribunal.”

Rune grabbed Carling and shook her. She bowed backward under the pressure of his hands. He roared in her face. “What the hell’s the matter with you? Snap out of it.”

The Vampyre’s gaze clicked into focus. She cocked her head and looked over the scene as if she had never seen it before. Her long almond-shaped eyes blazed with Power. She said to Rune, “If I do this, you will owe me. Not Dragos, not Tiago or Niniane. You. You will come to me in one week after we leave Adriyel, and you will do a favor of my choosing. Do you agree?”

“Yes,” Rune hissed. “Just f**king do it.”

Carling walked to Tiago. She bent over him with a Mona Lisa smile. “I’m told this might hurt a little.”

He closed his eyes in resignation. Crazy-assed bitch.

TWENTY

Carling placed her hands on Tiago and spoke foreign words filled with Power. Niniane sagged in relief as she held his head.

There was a flurry of activity around Cameron and Naida’s prone figures. Both women had fallen when the derringer exploded. Niniane couldn’t think about that right now. She didn’t care if Rune had to bargain for Carling’s cooperation. She was only grateful that Carling was helping now and everything would be all right. It had to be.