“Quiet!” He put a finger to her lips. His eyes swept over the limo, searching into the night and beyond.
“What is it?” Her instincts were instantly on alert.
Rupert said they were not far from their destination before they crashed. What if Mr. Moneybags was out there searching for her?
Bludon hushed her again while his other hand pulled a weapon from its holster on his thigh. Slowly, he made his way toward the smoking vehicle. Reba panicked; she didn’t want to be left alone in the dark again.
“Bludon,” she cried and darted after him. “Ahh fuck it!” She swore noisily as the rocks tore at the soft soles of her feet. “Bludon, please don’t leave me.” She grabbed onto his arm.
He swung abruptly back to her. “Get back there and stay down!” he said, throwing her from his arm.
The night’s silence shattered as a series of loud cracks cut the air.
Reba shrieked at Bludon’s grunt of surprise. He staggered drunkenly. She tried to steady him, but he was several times her weight and the momentum toppled them both to the ground.
Urgent calls of “Bludon!” filled the air as two figures emerged from the darkness, crawling low to the ground, moving like spiders across the terrain.
“He’s here with me. Someone shot him,” Reba called to them while she frantically tried to get out from under his dead weight.
One of them pulled Bludon from her. “Blue, Blue!” He shook the fallen man by the shoulders. “Roharn is on his way, hang in there, brother.”
The other spoke rapidly, calling for help. “Blue is down. I repeat, Blue is down, we need the crib. I repeat, we need the crib prepared, the injuries are severe.”
More shots whizzed past them. “Get down!” he yelled to Reba and she flattened her body to the ground. “Cassian and I are going after the shooter. We have to leave the girl with Blue, but I’ve got Jeq and his boys covering them.”
“He’s losing a ton of blood,” Reba hurriedly explained to the man who cupped Bludon’s face. She could feel the warm flow beneath her palms as she tried to stem the bleeding. “He has two bullets in his chest, and a third in his abdomen.”
“Cass…” Bludon coughed, his fingers grasped Cassian’s wrist.
“Shh, shh,” Cassian hushed him. “You have to lie still and not talk okay; the medics are less than five minutes away.”
“Bludon doesn’t have five minutes,” Reba said. “His injuries are too severe. I’m a paramedic and I know what I’m talking about.”
“Then do what you can and stop fucking whining,” the other man barked rudely. “I’ve got men covering you.”
He indicated to his right just as more bullets peppered the ground around them, and Reba squealed in terror.
“Who the fuck is shooting at us?” he cursed as another bullet landed short of his leg. “If those are your friends out there, lady, you best start talking now.”
“I don’t know who the hell’s out there,” Reba yelled back at him. “I’ve been with Rupert in the back of the limo since it picked me up from the airport.” Liar, liar, her conscience sang out. Someone paid Rupert a lot of money to get their hands on you.
“I am not a man you want to fuck with.” his tone edged on a growl. “Where were you headed in such a hurry?”
Reba looked up at the man she assumed was the commander. He was smaller in stature than Bludon and Cassian, his body slimmer, his limbs longer. Like the other two, his shirt fit like a glove, defining the muscles in his arms. Likewise, the rest of what Reba assumed was their uniform. Hooked over his shoulder was a bow, and a quiver was secured to his back. On his belt and strapped to his thighs were weapons Reba couldn’t begin to name.
“The driver just began speeding,” she said, building on the lie. “I’m here on holiday.” Her voice caught in her throat. “For Pete’s sake, I don’t even know where the hell I am.”
“We will talk more later.” His statement held a veiled threat, and a cold shiver raced down Reba’s spine.
“Let’s go, Cass.” He gave a jerk of his head and Cassian left Blue’s side and headed over.
“What about Bludon?” Reba called after them.
“He’s tougher than you think, he will be fine,” and then they were gone, moving stealthily over the terrain and into the darkness.
Blue wouldn’t be fine, and she just couldn’t fathom the commander’s attitude towards his injured colleague.
Bludon coughed and blood sprayed from his lips as he tried to talk. “Sis... sist…” he brushed a hand against Reba’s cheek.
“I’m so sorry, you gave me your vest and now you’re dying because of it.”
Bludon shook his head, his eyes meeting hers, “Sister…” he murmured, and a weak smile fluttered across his lips.
Reba pressed two fingers into his neck searching for a pulse. What she found was weak and thready. He coughed again, and crimson liquid foamed from his mouth. He was drowning in his own blood and all she could do was wait and watch.
“Shh, shh. You need to breathe more than you need to talk.”
He shook his head.
“Bludon, Bludon,” She called to him, “I’m not going to let you die,” she promised, keeping her voice soft as she soothed his agitation.
Bludon groaned, she was sure he heard her; “You have to trust me though.”
Bludon’s ragged breathing slowed and his body sagged beneath her hands. Death was rapidly approaching.
“I’m going to catch your soul.” She lowered her voice as she leaned forward and told him of a deep secret she kept. “I’m going to trap it in your energy field. It will stay there for as long as your body stays warm. I just hope I can restart your heart before your friends get here and see me, they won’t understand, no one ever does.”
She held his gaze until his eyes glassed over. It took moments following that before she sensed the vibration around her hands telling her Bludon’s soul was preparing to ascend. This triggered a spark at the base of her spine and waves of heat spiraled upwards, flooding the pathways of her nervous system. Warmth suffused her face, hands, and feet.
As the soul pushed through the layers of energy surrounding Bludon, Reba waited, her hands glowing orange in the darkness. As the golden orb emerged from Bludon’s chest, Reba cupped it within the warmth of her palms.
“Not yet,” she whispered as she reverently held it aloft, “Your journey is incomplete, go back to him. Fight for him, you are both meant for greater things.”
She pushed her hands into the tear created when the soul emerged and returned it from whence it came.
An orange light poured from Reba’s hands. It swarmed around Bludon’s body, swaddling him, and sealing the tears and cracks within his energy field. She was buying him time, nothing more. Then she hastily placed a hand over his heart and pressed the other against his ribs. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply and sent a jolt of energy from her hands into his body. Bludon’s large frame lurched under her hands, his body shuddering from the surge.
Reba sensed movement from her left. She wasn’t finished as his heart had failed to beat.
“Come on, come on,” she urged his stalled heart as she sent a second surge racing through him.
“You crazy bitch, what are you doing?” The commander grabbed her upper arm and wrenched her away from Bludon’s lifeless body.
Cassian kneeled at his side, his hands on Bludon’s shoulders; he roughly shook the lifeless man.
“No!” Reba fought the commander. “I’m trying to save him,” she cried desperately struggling in his grip.
The light that shrouded Bludon was fading. “You have to get his heartbeat back.”
More men arrived with backpacks, and they surrounded Bludon working methodically pulling out packs of medical supplies.
“Defib him!” Reba shouted, panting as she struggled in the commander's grip. “You have to restart his heart now!”
“You need to shut the fuck up.” The commander shook her.
Her neck sna
pped back and forth. His fingers sank into the tangled hair at the base of her neck, and he hauled her up on her toes, scowling down into her face. “Why is he lit up that way?”
Though his pale face was partially obscured by black wraparound glasses, there was something about his jawline, the dimples bracketing the stubborn set of his full lips, which stopped her struggle. Reba went limp with shock, the fight leaving her body.
“What the fuck are you?” Her passiveness fueled his rage, and he drove her to her knees.
His hands moved swiftly, and in seconds Reba stared down the pointy end of an arrow.
His glacier tone spoke of his deadly intent. “You had better start talking.”
Behind them, the defibrillator screeched, “NO SHOCK REQUIRED.”
“Report Roharn,” he demanded.
His voice was harsh, but Reba heard the fear he failed to hide.
“We have to get him out of here, there’s some shit in the bullets that is playing havoc with his body’s healing mechanism. He is in deep shit. I need to open him up and stop the bleeding that way.”
In the distance, the blades of a chopper rumbled. Reba’s back was to the injured Bludon, and she dared not turn to look, not with an arrow an inch away from her eye. What she could see was the lifeless body of a man being dragged from the limo, an arrow protruding from his head. Reba was left with no doubt who’d fired it.
“I want both lover boy and the driver autopsied at the institution. Some suspicious shit went down tonight.”
“What about her?” Cassian flicked his jaw at Reba.
“I’ll take care of it.” He lowered the bow and reached for a weapon strapped to his thigh. Reba sucked back a terrified breath when he exchanged the arrow for a pistol.
“Please don’t.” She wept, and tears flowed freely down her cheeks. “I only tried to help him. Please, you have to believe me.” Seconds passed by as she cried, deep shuddering terrified sobs.
He stood over her, looking down, his eyes hidden by his glasses. He was close enough for her to see a muscle tick in his cheek. His fingers flexed around the handle of the gun, shifting it slightly in his palm.
“Christ, Danjal, shoot her already,” Cassian’s voice barked with impatience.
There was no loud bang, just a soft, poof-like sound. Something cold and sharp pierced the side of her neck, followed by a rapid wave of nausea as her head spun. Her knees gave way next, and she sank to the frosty ground, where she lay paralyzed. The moment he picked her up, his earthy scent of cedar and crushed mint ripped open a box of memories sealed more than a decade ago.
Reba sighed wistfully; the bed was warm and soft. She slid her arms beneath the pillow, snuggling into it, and inhaled deeply. Hints of mint and dew-soaked earth teased her nose, the scent was achingly familiar, and she curled her body around it.
Her nipples peaked as they brushed against the luxurious linen pillowcase and heat fanned from her core. He was behind her, pressing his body against hers, his hardness between her thighs, seeking that place where she ached for him. His hand slid over her ribs, and he found the curve of her breast, his thumb moving slowly over her nipple.
Her hips undulated, and he murmured against her ear.
“Baby, the things I want to do to you.”
His lips moved along her jaw, his tongue lapping hungrily at her skin.
“I want you in a thousand ways.”
His hand found her slender neck, his fingers wrapping around her throat. He coaxed her mouth to his and slowly slid his tongue between her lips.
As his taste exploded in her mouth, his cock moved between her slick folds, Reba’s gasps of pleasure were lost beneath the hunger of his kiss. She wanted him inside her, wanted her legs around his hips holding him there, so he’d never leave again. She moved impatiently against him, but his hand splayed across her tummy, and he held her fast.
“Slow down baby, stay with me, there is no rush tonight.”
He was everywhere, his mouth sucking greedily at her nipples, his hands grasping at her skin, his fingers finding places that made her body shudder.
“Oh God,” Reba panted as he stilled her hips beneath his hand, his pace vexingly slow as his cock moved unrelentingly over her aching nub. His fingers slid around her throat, holding her as he whispered against her ear.
“Say my name, sweetheart. God isn’t here. It’s just you and me.”
The slow-burning flicker of desire erupted like a volcano bursting into an inferno, which burned hot and fast. Her body quivered as she arched against him, shuddering violently as pleasure wracked her body and she screamed his name.
“Danjal!”
Reba bolted upright, panting with shock, the bedclothes pooled around her waist as she searched the darkened room for him. He wasn’t there, he never was. Her body thrummed with arousal and she pulled her knees up hugging them close to her.
The room was unfamiliar in the darkness, but her eye caught an inviting strip of yellow light beneath the dark frame of a closed door beside the bed. A bathroom with a light. She could start there.
Reba hissed as her muscles protested when she moved to the side of the bed and limped the short distance to the door.
“Holy shit!” she muttered beneath her breath as she took in her surroundings.
Sconces lit the black walls, bathing the darkness in a warm yellow light. An enormous bathtub sat beneath a majestic arched window. Moonlight streamed in, dappling the bath in a silvery glow. Beneath her feet, glossy black tiles glistened, catching the highlights of the silver hardware. Snowy towels hung beside the bath, basin, and shower. To her left was another black wall which housed the toilet.
She stood at the basin clad only in her underwear. Perhaps her dress was out there somewhere? Her long, crimson-streaked black curls resembled a bird’s nest. Matted and frizzy, it framed her sallow, sunken face like an evil crown.
“Dear Lord…” she murmured as her haunted hollow eyes stared silently back at her. She pressed a bloodstained hand against her breastbone to still her wildly beating heart. Hundreds of tiny pinprick wounds, scratches and grazes that were already scabbing over littered her body. The light reflected minute sparkles in her tangled hair. Peering closer to the mirror she gingerly plucked one out, holding it between her forefinger and thumb she examined it. “What the fuck? It's glass!”
Dropping it into a nearby bin, Reba grabbed a black washer from the shelf beside the basin. There was also a neatly folded white towel robe, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a comb. After giving it a good soak, she attempted to remove as much of the blood from her face and hands as she could. Even after splashing icy water onto her face and brushing her teeth, she couldn’t shake the cobwebs from her brain. Although the shower looked inviting, it needed to wait. She needed to get to the bottom of all this blood and glass. Pulling on the robe, she knotted the belt firmly at her waist and stepped from the bathroom, taking in her surrounds. To her left was a fireplace, two large leather chairs placed strategically around it. A guitar lay across the nearest one.
A musician?
She ambled over to examine the battered instrument and idly ran her hand over its neck. The scratches to the timber beneath the sound hole told a story of strumming fingers passing over its surface many times. She took in the dark purple walls and heavy, burgundy curtains draping the windows on either side of the bed.
Then she spotted the door, and her heart leaped. Housed within an arched frame, thick wrought iron hinges and bolts held it in place. Reba’s hand found the large matching doorknob; it was cold beneath her warm hand. She hesitated just a second before she gave a tentative twist.
Nothing!
She yanked harder this time, twisting back and forth, but the door remained locked. She banged her hand against it and called out.
“Hello! Hello!” only silence replied.
“Fuck it!” she cursed and swung away. She stood with her hands on her hips and surveyed the room. It felt as if she’d traveled back in time a few hundred yea
rs.
There was a large armoire that took up the space of an entire wall. Reba headed towards it, hoping its contents would be forthcoming.
She trailed her fingers over the monochromatic clothing it housed. Men’s jeans, formal trousers, shirts, and t-shirts. The neatness of the underwear and sock drawer made her eyes water. How the hell did she end up in the room of a man with OCD?
A knock on the door caused her to jump guiltily, and she slammed the drawer shut. Her heart raced, and she felt like a criminal caught in the act. She pressed her back up against the armoire.
“Reba?” a male voice called as the door cracked open a fraction.
Reba scampered across the floor and jumped onto the bed, pulling the duvet up to her chin. She held her breath as the door opened fully, and a man stepped into the room.
“Good evening.” He spoke in a posh English schoolboy accent she’d always found so attractive.
Though his smile was open and friendly, Reba remained silent, tracking his every move with narrowed eyes. She felt vulnerable being half-naked with a strange man in the bedroom.
“I’m glad to see you’re awake, how are you feeling?” He flicked on the bedside lamp as he spoke, shedding more light into the dim room. He had short, dark hair with striking blue eyes and a clean-shaven face.
The instant he stepped closer to the bed. Reba stiffened, bringing her knees up, and she dragged the duvet protectively around her shoulders.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he assured her, keeping his voice soft.
“I’m Roharn Bendagan. I’m the doctor that’s been attending you. You’re a paramedic I believe,” he continued, letting her know he knew who she was. “That can be a tough gig in your part of the world. You did an awesome job helping Blue and we are eternally grateful to you. I was able to save his life because of you.”
“Blue? Who is Blue?”
Run Angel Run: A Steamy Dark Fantasy Romance (The Angels of David's Town Book 1) Page 5
