Untamed Hunger

by Tiffany Roberts

  Nostrus pulled the knife back and stabbed again, this time under his right arm. Shay jumped aside, moving toward his back. The blade cut through the fabric over her ribs and bit into the flesh beneath.

  Shay growled through her teeth and pulled his right arm outward, using it for extra leverage as she swung her left knee into the back of his right. Nostrus collapsed onto his buckled knee with an agonized yell. He reversed his grip on the knife and stabbed it backward at her blindly. The blade caught her left hip. She felt it strike the bone; the impact diverted the blade’s path, angling the tip away from her body.

  “Fuck!” Shay twisted quickly to plant her hip against his shoulder and throw her weight against him, simultaneously wrenching back on his arm.

  He pitched forward, crashing face first to the floor. The knife clattered away. Shay landed atop him, back-to-back, and pulled harder on his arm. Something cracked and popped. Nostrus screamed and thrashed beneath her, jerking his head up. The back of his skull slammed into the back of Shay’s with jarring force. Darkness skittered across her vision again, and the spot he’d struck with his elbow flared with new, intense pain.

  She rolled off Nostrus and away from him, clamping her left hand over the back of her head. Her tangled hair was wet and sticky with blood—undoubtedly the result of that earlier elbow shot.

  Swearing again, she turned toward Nostrus and braced her right hand on the floor, struggling to push herself to her feet. She didn’t trust the two meters of distance between them. She didn’t trust the way his right arm hung limp, or the way he breathed heavily and groaned as he fought to rise. She didn’t trust that his back was turned toward her.

  “When I’m done with you,” he said, words slurred like they were being forced through mashed lips, “I’m going to hunt down your azhera”—he grunted and planted his right knee on the floor—“and skin him alive.”

  Shay’s head throbbed. She staggered once she was on her feet, assailed by sudden lightheadedness. She sucked in a deep breath through her teeth and lowered her hand into her pocket. Several drops of liquid spattered audibly on the floor; she didn’t know if it was her blood, Nostrus’s, or both, but it didn’t matter.

  Her fingers closed around the blaster’s grip.

  Nostrus shifted his left leg, moving himself onto his knees, and sank back to sit on his calves. His head lolled forward. He raised his left arm, bent at the elbow, as though clutching his chest. “You are going to regret every moment of this, terran.”

  Shay lifted the blaster. It felt like it weighed a hundred kilos, but it didn’t snag on the jacket this time, and her arm was steady as she raised the weapon.

  “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.”

&nb
sp; 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.”

  Twenty-Seven

  “Murgen just left the examination room through a back door,” Arcanthus said over the comms. “I suppose he finally realized the severity of the situation.”

  Drakkal growled a curse but didn’t allow himself to slow. He was walking at a brisk pace with Shay beside him, his right arm around her back and hooked beneath her armpit. She’d leaned on him less and less as they’d continued deeper into the zoo—undoubtedly the result of the booster Urgand had injected her with. She’d crash and feel like shit again once it wore off, but all that mattered now was that she could keep moving.

  “What about Leah?” he asked.

  “She’s still in there,” Arc replied. “The techs are arguing…annnnnd never mind, they just ran into a supply room to hide. Left her on the exam table.”

  “What’s happening?” Shay asked, tightening her arm around Drakkal’s middle.

  “Is she all right, Arc?” Drakkal demanded.

  “As far as I can tell. She looks like she’s still out.”

  “Murgen ran off,” Drakkal said, squeezing the grip of his auto-blaster with his left hand and glancing down at Shay. “They left Leah behind, but we think she’s okay.”

  Shay nodded.

  Sekk’thi and Thargen, who had taken the lead in their new formation, turned the next corner. Drakkal followed with Shay just behind him, and Urgand took the rear. The wide door to the examination room stood twenty meters ahead. The door that led to Leah.

  “Have any guards remained behind?” Sekk’thi asked.

  “No. The two that were in there are escorting Murgen away,” Arcanthus replied.

  When they arrived at the door, all five of them fell into position. Shay didn’t resist when Drakkal angled himself to shield her body with his, though she did lean slightly to the side, aiming her blaster around him. The door opened on a sterile, silent room filled with sleek medical equipment and several examination tables and adjustable chairs.

  Thargen and Sekk’thi moved into the room with auto-blasters raised, checking corners as they went. Drakkal and Shay advanced in their wake, and his eyes were drawn immediately to one of those tables, atop which Leah lay beneath stark white light.

  “Clear,” both Sekk’thi and Thargen declared. The door closed after Urgand entered the room.

  Drakkal and Shay hurried to their cub, finally splitting apart to move to opposite sides of the table. Leah lay naked and unmoving but for the rise and fall of her little chest, head turned to one side and eyes closed. Her skin was too pale.

  “Is Leah okay?” Samantha asked over the commlink, her voice filled with fear.

  Shay picked Leah up and cradled her in her arms, holding her close. Her strained, worried expression eased, and she closed her eyes. When she opened them to meet Drakkal’s gaze, they were filled with tears. “We got her back.”

  “We think so, Sam,” Drakkal said softly. His chest tightened with raw, powerful emotion—elation, relief, sorrow. They should never have had to deal with everything they’d been forced to endure. No one should ever have had to deal with it. If he could’ve somehow spared his family from all this suffering, if he could have somehow found Shay and claimed her without triggering this chain of events…

  He leaned across the table, bracing himself on an elbow, and placed a hand on the back of Shay’s neck. Dipping his head, he placed a soft kiss on Leah’s forehead. He lifted his face a moment later to kiss Shay on the lips.

  She returned the kiss, but a soft sob escaped her as she drew away, pressing her lips against Leah’s head. Her tears fell freely, cutting trails through
the blood smeared on her cheek.

  In the months he’d known her, Drakkal had only seen Shay show such emotion, such vulnerability, a handful of times—few enough to count on one hand, and he had a finger fewer on each hand than her. It broke his heart a little, but it also bolstered his love for her. He understood now what he’d been too naïve to comprehend in his youth—showing these emotions was not a sign of weakness. In many ways, in many cases, it was amongst the most admirable signs of strength.

  “Don’t want to interrupt,” said Arcanthus over the commlink, “but I think Murgen is heading for a safe room deeper in the facility.”

  “You saying he’s trying to hide instead of run away?” Thargen asked.

  “A lot of people with his kind of wealth do the same,” Urgand said. “Used to see it all the time when I ran in private security. They have these rooms in their manors that are like little self-sufficient fortresses. They can just wait in luxury for help to come.”

  Drakkal clenched his jaw, dropped his arm from Shay, and stepped back. There was still another emotion roiling inside him with the others, stronger and deeper than all save his love for Shay and Leah. Rage. It was driven in part by instinct, which had not yet been satisfied—which wouldn’t be satisfied until the threats to his family were eliminated for good.

  “Cren, how are you three doing up there?” Drakkal asked.

  “Moving up to the last group now,” Kiloq replied over the comms.

  “These guys fight like amateurs,” Koroq added.

  “All right.” Drakkal turned to look at his companions. “Urgand, can you check Leah and make sure everything looks good as best you can tell?”

  Urgand nodded and walked to stand beside Shay.

  Drakkal turned to face his other companions. “Sekk’thi, you’re on watch. Cover the door. Thargen…go take care of the staff hiding in the supply closet.”