Sophie bit her lip as Sylvan ran to meet the attack. She was certain the huge animal would rip out his throat and she wanted in the worst way to look away but she was mesmerized, her eyes glued to the action.
Sure enough the pointed snout full of teeth aimed right for the big warrior’s neck but at the last minute, Sylvan put his hands up. Not to protect his throat, though. Sophie watched in horror as he actually stuck both hands in the animal’s mouth. Oh my God, he’s going to lose all his fingers!
But before the urlich could clamp down, Sylvan had hold of its jaws and was prying them apart. Sophie could only imagine the sheer strength it took to hold such a huge, ferocious animal’s mouth open. But why is he doing it? What’s the point? True, it kept the urlich from biting but it seemed like there should be a better way to do that. What did Sylvan hope to accomplish?
A low whine was coming from the animal’s throat as Sylvan stretched its jaws wider and wider. And then he wrenched the entire head to one side and Sophie had the answer to her question. With a sharp cracking sound, the animal’s neck snapped and it fell in a limp heap at Sylvan’s feet.
Ugh! She flinched at the grizzly sound but there wasn’t time to freak out. Another urlich had launched itself at Sylvan. This one managed to avoid his hands and plow into him with enough force to take them both to the ground.
Sophie bit back a scream as she watched them roll over and over on the ground, the lethal jaws snapping inches from Sylvan’s face. The look on his chiseled features was grim and unyielding as he held the urlich off.
How can he fight up close like that? How long can he possibly hold it off? Suddenly the urlich went for Sylvan’s throat. But instead of his neck, the wickedly curving teeth found his bare shoulder. The beast ripped into him but Sylvan hardly seemed to notice. He shifted his grip and, in a gruesome example of role reversal, his fangs found the urlich’s throat instead. Then, with a quick, vicious jerking motion, he ripped it out.
Sophie’s breath caught in her throat as a spray of blackish-red blood fountained up from the dying urlich. A few droplets spattered her bare feet, hot and thick and slimy. And then Sylvan was up again and ready to face the next attacker.
She stared at him in awe. His jaw and chest were smeared with the urlich’s slick, black blood and he was bleeding heavily from the wound on his shoulder. But his face showed no signs of pain—only a fierce, animalistic determination to kill all the attackers or die trying.
It’s because he’s defending me, Sophie realized as she watched the four remaining urlich, including the large one that appeared to be the leader, circle her tree where Sylvan was still standing guard. He’s willing to die for me—to die protecting me, just like he said. What’s so special about me? What did I do to inspire such loyalty? Such…love? And will all that emotion really just disappear when we get back to the ship? If we get back to the ship? She didn’t have long to wonder because suddenly everything happened at once.
Up until now the urlich had been coming one by one as though trying to test Sylvan’s strength. Now the lead urlich barked out several sharp, short commands and the four remaining animals launched themselves at the base of the tree at once.
Sophie gasped as their heavy bodies hit the trunk, shaking the entire tree and nearly dislodging her completely. Only by wrapping her arms around the tree and holding on desperately was she able to keep her place. She couldn’t see what was happening to Sylvan—he seemed to be buried under a mound of snarling, snapping bodies. In the mean time, the urlich leader was up on her hind paws, snapping at Sophie’s unprotected ankles.
This is it, she thought desperately as she tried to avoid those razor sharp jaws. In a minute this thing is going to grab me by the leg and drag me out of the tree. I don’t know why the Scourge want me but it looks like they don’t care if I get to their ship in one piece or not. They’ll take me away and I’ll never get to see anyone I love again. Liv or Kat or Sylvan…
She didn’t have time to wonder why she’d added the big warrior’s name to her list of loved ones. It didn’t matter anyhow. He was probably dead—as dead as she herself was going to be once the Scourge were through with her.
Hot, fetid breath bathed her bare legs and she tried to dance away again, out of the reach of the snapping jaws. Her bad ankle gave a warning twinge and Sophie gasped in pain. Hanging on to the rough bark of the tree, she tried to kick out at her attacker, to fend it off, but the movement caused another excruciating bolt in her twisted ankle. Before she could try again, teeth as sharp as razors were closing around her leg. Sophie felt an agonizing pain as they bit and pierced deep, gripping the meat of her knee and lower leg. The large female urlich growled low in her throat and began to pull, trying to dislodge her prey from the tree.
Me, I’m the prey, Sophie thought. Oh my God, no…no! Slowly but surely her fingers were being pried from their grip on the rough bark. Hot rivulets of blood were pouring down her leg. The pain was incredible, enormous as the giant, sharp teeth dug deeper into her tender flesh. GodohGod…hurts! Hurts so much!
Then suddenly there was a sizzling sound and some of the pressure eased. The pain was still terrible but at least she was no longer being pulled out of the tree. Sophie opened her eyes which had been clenched shut and couldn’t hold back a scream. The lead urlich’s teeth were still buried in her leg, its long, ugly head attached to her, but the rest of its body was gone—sheared clean away as though cut off by a knife or a sword. Or a blow torch, she thought wildly. My God, look at it—it’s smoking!
It was true—the stump of the animal’s neck was steaming as though it had just been cauterized by the world’s biggest surgical instrument. The sickening stench of burned hair and cooked flesh coming from it made her want to gag but she had no time to be sick. With trembling fingers she reached out and pried at the razor sharp teeth. She was afraid that the jaws, clenched tight in death, would never let go. But at last she managed to lever them open and the smoking head dropped away, leaving nothing but gaping puncture wounds to remind her of its owner.
She heard another sizzling sound and then another. Looking at the ground below her, she saw that the two urlich on top of Sylvan had been reduced to a pile of smoking chunks. She had no idea what was happening until she saw Baird charge in with a gun-like weapon in his fist. Sophie had never been so glad to see her new brother-in-law in her life.
“Baird?” she gasped and he nodded at her briefly.
“Where’s Sylvan? Did he get out or is he still under these two?” He nodded at the mess under her tree.
“I didn’t see if he got out or not. Oh God, Baird. I don’t know if he’s…still alive.” She choked on the last words, feeling sick and faint. Sylvan, she thought, as fear took her by the throat. Oh Sylvan, please don’t be dead. Please, please don’t. Even if this is the end for us and you won’t care any more once we’re back at the ship, please don’t be gone for good.
She was about to dissolve into tears when the gruesome pile of urlich parts shivered and heaved. Sylvan sat up, pushing them out of the way. He looked like a survivor from a zombie movie, more dead than alive, but he was still moving and that was enough for Sophie.
He’s all right. Oh, thank God, he’s all right. Suddenly she was literally faint with relief. Or maybe it was blood loss. The deep wounds in her calf were pumping out streams of crimson which was trickling down her bare leg to patter on the ground below. Just watching it was making her feel…so…dizzy.
She tried to hold on to the tree but the world was spinning in a giddy arc, threatening to throw her down at any minute. “Sylvan,” she muttered, not even sure if she was talking aloud or if the words were all in her head. “Sylvan, I—”
Then she felt herself falling. Gonna hurt when I land. The ground is so hard…But someone caught her before she reached it. Strong arms held her tight and someone whispered in her ear, “Safe now. You’re safe, Talana.”
Sophie opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out. Blackness ate the world and she rememb
ered no more.
Chapter Twenty-one
“You’re a mess.” Baird looked over his half brother critically. Sylvan was in bad shape with wounds all over the place. Yet he refused to give up his precious burden—Sophia, still cradled in his arms. He’d insisted on tending her wounds immediately, even though there was still an urlich running around loose somewhere.
Baird waited patiently, keeping guard beside the pile of steaming corpses while Sylvan worked. Luckily, the Scourge bred animal was nowhere in sight. Good, let it go back to its master. Tell that bastard the AllFather, Kindred warriors aren’t that easy to kill.
Still, he wished Sylvan would agree to take Sophia back to the shuttle for first aid instead of performing it right here in the forest. It made a hell of a lot more tactical sense to get out into the sunlight and away from danger. But there was no arguing with his brother. Sylvan was intent on cleaning and sealing her wounds at once, which he did with long, careful strokes of his tongue.
At last he appeared satisfied. Looking up from Sophia, who was still unconcious, he nodded at Baird. “Let’s go.”
“Can you manage? Do you need me to get your med kit for you? I brought it with me just in case.”
“I’m fine.” Sylvan struggled to his feet, holding Sophia against his chest. He staggered for a moment before regaining his footing.
“Sylvan, Gods!” Baird put out a hand. “At least let me carry her. It’s still a long way to the ship.”
Sylvan, who had never even raised his voice to Baird before, pulled back his lips in a savage snarl. “Get back. She’s mine.”
Surprise and dismay made Baird take a step back. He stared at his brother. Sylvan’s pupils were a bloody crimson and his fangs were long and sharp—as lethal as daggers. The look on his face was pure threat—all emotion and no reason whatsoever.
“All right, fine.” Baird held out his hands, palms up in a gesture of peace. “Carry her yourself. But don’t blame me if you fall out from exhaustion or blood loss on the way. She wasn’t the only one who was wounded, Sylvan.”
“She’s the only one who matters.” Sylvan’s voice was guttural and deep—almost bestial.
Baird shook his head. His half brother had been gone for less than twenty-four Earth hours but in that short amount of time he appeared to have changed into a completely different person. What had happened to the slightly distant, coolly logical male Baird had always known? And who was this haggard, emotionally-ravaged creature with the wild, hungry look in his burning eyes? Even the rage couldn’t explain such changes. “Look,” he told Sylvan. “I understand, you just bonded her and you’re probably still feeling a little—”
“She’s not bonded to me.”
“What?” Baird frowned. “But I can smell your scent all over her.”
“Doesn’t matter. She’s not my bride.” Sylvan looked up, his eyes blazing. “Did you really think I would break my vow so easily?”
“Of course not. I know your word is good,” Baird said fiercely. “But even the Mother of All Life must understand when a male’s true bride comes into his life. After all, it’s she who puts a warrior and his mate together so—”
“It was the Mother of All Life who gave me these feelings for Sophia.” The harsh, growling voice became as soft as a caress when he spoke her name. “But only so I could protect her. I had to mask her scent with my own—there was no other way with the urlich tracking us. Once we get back to the Mother ship, though, everything will go back to normal. I’ll go back to normal.”
They were making their way toward the ship as they spoke, moving slowly, at Sylvan’s wounded pace. At his brother’s words, Baird actually stopped and turned to look the other warrior full in the face.
“You really believe that? You think your feelings for her—the need to claim her and bond her to you—will just disappear the minute we hit the ship?”
“They have to.” There was something like desperation in Sylvan’s eyes now. “Because I can’t have her. Can’t claim her, no matter how much I want to.”
Baird frowned. “Stop this foolishness, Sylvan. Go to the priestess in the sacred grove. Ask to be released of your vow.”
Sylvan shook his head. “I can’t.”
“You must!” Baird stabbed a finger at him. “Don’t let pride break you. There is no shame in bowing to your body’s demands—just look at you, you’re so deep in need for her you’re not even the same person. You look like hell, Brother. You can’t go on like this.”
“I have to.” Slowly, Sylvan began to march forward again. Baird could see his arms trembling with fatigue but he moved with a single-minded determination, a stubbornness that trumped his wounds and weariness. “I have to,” he said again. “Have to go on, no matter what. Go on without her.”
“Why?” Baird demanded. “You’ve found the woman you love—now claim her before the need inside you eats you alive.”
Sylvan looked at him and there was such a depth of pain in his eyes that Baird ached to see it. “I can’t claim her because she doesn’t want me. She’s rejected my bite over and over again.”
“Gods.” Baird didn’t know what to say. The hope, the need, the desire…and then the rejection. The pain worse than death. It’s Feenah all over again. But Sylvan had never been like this the one time he’d tried and failed to call a bride before. He’d never looked this bad, this ragged. It was clear the need to claim Sophia was riding him like a cruel master, spurring him to take her, to bond her. And it was just as clear that Sylvan was determined to fight it. Baird knew his brother—a more honorable male did not exist. So it was no wonder Sylvan refused to bond her against her will.
Baird looked at the other male with fresh compassion. How well he remembered the pain he’d felt when Olivia had refused to let him mark her and bond her! Her objection had been in leaving everyone she loved back on Earth. Sophia could have no such reason since her beloved twin sister was already on the Kindred ship. Yet it was clear that she had rejected Sylvan in no uncertain terms. Why? He wanted to ask more, to try to get to the root of the problem, but it was clear Sylvan was in no mood to discuss his pain. The fact that he had revealed it at all instead of keeping it hidden—which was his usual way—said a great deal about how much he was hurting.
“So you see,” Sylvan continued, breaking his train of thought. “I have to believe things will go back to normal once we reach the ship. It’s either that…or madness.” He gave Baird a hollow-eyed glance that said he wasn’t far from that eventuality. Indeed, he looked like a male standing right on the edge and looking down into the abyss.
“Then I pray you’re right, Brother,” Baird said softly. He dared to reach out and squeeze the other male’s uninjured shoulder, trying to convey his sympathy in the simple touch.
Sylvan nodded, a determined look on his face. “When we reach the ship this will all be over. Until then Sophia is still mine to protect and cherish.”
“I understand,” Baird said, nodding. “Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon and your burden will be lifted.” I hope.
Sylvan shook his head. “I don’t want to go straight back to the ship. There’s something I have to do—an errand I have to run—in Sophia’s home town. Can we stop by Tampa before we go back?”
“Well, I am here on a special dispensation from the High Council,” Baird said. “They didn’t order me to come right back and I know there are a few things Olivia would like to have from her old home. So I don’t see why not.”
“Good.” Sylvan nodded with a finality that was somehow troubling. “And don’t worry, I won’t take long.”
“You’d better not,” Baird said, trying to joke. “Or Olivia will skin us both alive. She said she wants us home in time for late-day meal or we’ll get nothing but Grieza worms for a month.”
Sylvan nodded but didn’t smile. Clearly he was deep in thought. Was he contemplating his errand, whatever it was? Or wondering why the woman he wanted so desperately didn’t want him?
Baird felt a shiv
er of unease pass over him but there was nothing more he could do or say. Sylvan was past any help but that of the Mother of All Life…or Sophia. The human female he carried so tenderly in his arms held the key to healing his heart…or destroying it forever. Baird only hoped she would be gentle.
* * * * *
Sophia was having the oddest dream.
It was about Sylvan. But not the cool, logical Sylvan she’d known before their stay together at the cabin. No, this Sylvan was different—as different as the blazing dessert sun is from an icy glacier. He no longer looked cool and collected. In fact, he looked terrible—weary and wounded and his eyes were wild. But there seemed to be something he had to do and he was determined to do it.
Sophie watched as he took a quick shower in her town house (What was he doing there?) and dried himself with her favorite sunflower beach towel. His strong body was covered with cruel markings—wounds from the fight with the urlich, she was sure. They appeared to be healing already but there were going to be scars—a lot of them.
Watching the big warrior, the weary way he moved and the terrible wounds that he’d gotten for her sake, Sophia ached for him. His pain was almost palpable, even in her dream. She wished she could give him a massage, ease some of the tension that was knotted in those broad shoulders. Then she would have him lie down on the couch (if he would fit) and make him chicken noodle soup and let him watch bad daytime TV until he couldn’t take any more. That was the way her mom had always treated any sickness from the common cold to affairs of the heart and it was what Sophie wanted to do for Sylvan now.
Wish I could take care of you, she thought longingly. Wipe that grim look off your face and see you flash that little one-sided smile of yours. Maybe even hear you laugh. Had she ever heard him laugh? Sophie didn’t think so. I bet with that deep baritone voice of his it sounds great. Wish I could hear it, just once.
Brides of the Kindred Page 26
