Fury of Ice (14 page)

So, yup. Whatever the details, he owed her and would be the “jerk” for a while longer. At least out loud. In secret, she’d call him awesome. He’d come after her when no one else had. Fought like hell to get her back, away from the rat-bastard. Angela’s throat closed, thankfulness ripping her wide open. If he’d been one minute later…if Lothair had…

She gagged as her stomach heaved.

“Angela?” He cupped the back of her head. Concern tightened his features a second before he pushed to his feet with her in his arms. “How we doing, baby?”

“I c-can’t…b-breathe.”

“Hang tight…one more minute.”

His footfalls echoed at a fast clip, jarring her with each stride. Too tired to keep her eyes open, Angela let them drift closed. Bad idea. Without the cavern walls to ground her, she went topsy-turvy, her mind cartwheeling into thick, gray fog. The tumble spun her around, and unconsciousness circled like a shark looking for its next meal. As it sideswiped her, she told herself to be strong, but the siphoning pull seduced. Whispered in her ear, telling her to relax and forget. And as her chest rose and fell, each breath became more difficult than the last.

She wasn’t going to make it. Her body knew it, and so did she.

“Rik-kar?”

He dipped his head, brushing her hair with his mouth. “Yeah?”

“D-don’t leave me, ok-kay…p-please don’t—”

“I won’t, Angela.” Her ear pressed to his chest, she listened to his heartbeat, each thump a lullaby, the last one she would ever hear. “Just stay with me. Baby, please…stay with me.”

Angela tried—she really did—but as agony gathered she saw the shark swim toward her through the mind fog. Sharp teeth bared, the dark shadow attacked, dragging her down before swallowing her whole.

Rikar cursed as Angela went limp in his arms. Hitching her higher against his chest, he held on tighter, afraid if he let her go he’d lose her. Zip. Bang. Gone forever…just like that.

Hurry
.

The word banged around inside his head. He ran faster, sprinting across the LZ, each of his footfalls booming against uneven cavern walls. The light globes’ bob-and-weave caught the beat, swaying against the ceiling, sending stone dust drifting in the damp air. A thousand sparkles lit off, each fine grain grabbing onto the dim light like leeches onto bare skin.

God, why had he landed so far from the lair’s entrance?

A vast space, the LZ could launch four dragons at a time. And like a dumb-ass, he’d set down on the corner farthest from the door. But after the rough flight through storm clouds to reach Black Diamond, the need to check her with human hands—see her through human eyes—had overpowered him. Now Angela was in serious trouble, her bio-energy so low she wasn’t even shivering anymore. Her body had tapped out, and even though he cocooned her with his magic—

Christ help him, it wasn’t enough. And as her vitals took a nosedive, he felt her slipping away.

A howl of denial locked in his throat, Rikar slowed his roll. Not the brightest thing to do under the circumstances. He needed to reach the clinic, but he couldn’t share his energy with her on the run. That was if he could feed her at all, but…shit. He had to try. If she took from him, she stood a chance. The question was: Would she accept the healing energy he offered?

He’d never shared his energy with a female before. Had only watched from the sidelines while Bastian fed his mate, and honestly? The exchange freaked him out. But afraid or not, there was no other play. Angela needed him. So yeah, no matter how tricky, he would deliver. Would crack himself wide open, bind himself to her heart, body, mind, and soul through energy-fuse if it meant saving her life.

Which was a total mind-fuck.

Energy-fuse was a forever kind of commitment, a mating bond forged without the possibility of separation. Once he connected and she accepted, he would belong to her. Life without possibility of parole.

Angela twitched in his arms.

“Fuck it,” he said as desperation dragged him to the edge, then pushed him over.

Closing his eyes, he sank deep into the rawness of the Meridian’s energy stream. Power crackled, making him tense as he connected to the uniqueness of Angela’s bio-energy. The electrostatic current that fed his kind surged, rising in a wave to meet him. With a twist, Rikar looped the band, wrapping them in magical splendor, refolding the stream, blocking the life-giving flow. The magic whiplashed. He grabbed its tail and reversed course, redirecting the healing current from him into Angela.

She flinched, fighting the intrusion.

“Please, angel…take it
.
”
Concentrating hard, he pushed the plea into her mind.
“Please, baby, let me feed you.”

A pause. Less than a heartbeat in time. She hummed, the sound warm, soft, and—

Rikar sucked in a quick breath. Sweet Christ. She’d linked in, accepted him, snuggling closer as she took what he offered.

Drunk on sensation, Rikar swayed. Widening his stance, he planted his shitkickers and…hmm, that felt incredible. And he wanted more. Needed to give her every last piece of himself.

Sinking to the cavern floor, he settled her in his lap. “That’s right, love…take all you need.”

Dumb-ass thing to do. Stupid on so many levels, but God, he couldn’t resist her. Or deny his compulsion to feed her. Savage need ripped through him as energy-fuse grabbed hold. Undeniable. Powerful. Addictive. The magical bond rooted him to the stone floor, made him cup the back of Angela’s head, press his cheek to hers, and align them temple-to-temple.

With a moan, she nestled in, brushing the corner of his mouth with her own. Warm breath on his skin. A flick of her tongue. A gentle grazing of her teeth. The pleasure of her in his arms.

God give him strength. No wonder B loved serving his female this way.

Unable to resist, he slipped his hand under the hem of her hospital gown and put them skin to skin, spreading his fingers wide across her lower back. Connected at three junction points—nape, temple, and spine—the Meridian amplified, marrying their energy streams. Rikar growled, relishing the rush as Angela drank deep, drawing him into her veins. Within seconds, her vital signs stabilized, each breath coming a little easier as her muscles unlocked and her heartbeat leveled out.

“There’s my angel,” he said in Dragonese, using the language of his kind to soothe her. “I see you now.”

She whispered his name.

Tears flooded his vision as his throat went tight. Rikar accepted the gift, then put it away. No time to wallow in the intensity of the mating. Angela might be stable now, but she wasn’t out of danger yet.

Pushing to his feet, Rikar skirted the beat-up Honda in the center of the LZ and jogged toward Black Diamond’s underground lair. Ten seconds out, he banged on the magical door with his mind, triggering the energy shield. The powerful current crackled. Blue-white sparks flew, the snap-crackle-n-pop warning him to slow down.

Rikar ignored the hint. He could handle the pain of coming in too fast. His female’s need took precedence and every second counted.

Upping the pace, he thumped on the barrier again. The cave wall rippled, shifting from solid stone to clear and wavy. Curled like a shield around Angela, he tucked his chin and braced for impact. He hit the energy shield head-on. The invisible doorway hissed then whiplashed, throwing the magical equivalent of a temper tantrum. Rikar snarled at it. The thing retaliated, sideswiping him with electrostatic shards, and sensation exploded into pain. Holding his breath, he gritted his teeth and waited for the shield to spit him out the other side.

One Mississippi. Two Mississippi…three Mississippi, four—

The portal released its grip and shoved, launching him like a human torpedo. Scrambling to keep his balance, boot treads sliding on concrete, ancient stone walls flashed in his periphery.

Thank Christ. He’d made it. Was now standing in the hallway of Black Diamond’s underground lair.

He checked Angela. Breathing well. Heartbeat strong. Curled like a kitten in his arms, and none the worse for wear.

Putting himself in gear, he sprinted up the double-wide corridor. “Myst!”

The clinic’s glass door slid open. Bastian’s female stuck her head out. “How’s she doing?”

“Stable, but hurt,” he said. “Deep laceration to the right thigh.”

“Still bleeding?”

“No, but—”

“We’re set up and ready to go. Get her in here fast.”

Like he wasn’t hauling ass already? Still he didn’t argue. No time. No inclination either. All he cared about was Angela. And having Myst on hand to play doctor was a gift. B’s female could order him around as much as she liked, just as long as his female pulled through—hale, whole, with nothing but a shitload of healthy ahead of her.

Putting on the brakes, Rikar skidded into the clinic.

Set up like an operating room, medical supplies were lined up on top of a metal rollaway cart beside the stainless-steel examination table. Plastic crinkled as Myst cracked open one of the packets. An IV needle pushed from its depths as she got ready to pump fluids into Angela’s bloodstream.

“Lay her down, buddy,” Sloan said, hanging a bag of clear liquid from the IV pole. “Let Myst see what we’ve got.”

Good plan. But as Rikar ran toward the table he’d been stitched up on so many times he’d lost count, his feet slowed, then got stuck to the floor. God, he didn’t want to put her down. What if he let her go and—

“Rikar, man.” Sloan frowned at him, throwing a load of WTF in his direction. “Get over here.”

Breathing like a wounded racehorse, he shook his head. “I can’t let her go…I promised. I…” Rooted like a tree in the middle of the clinic, he played a game of internal tug-of-war. The idea might be idiotic, but they were still intertwined, the fusion pulling thimblefuls of energy from him to give to her. And if his hands left her skin, Rikar knew—just
knew
—she’d crash. “I promised I wouldn’t leave her. If I let her go, she’ll die and…fuck…I can’t…”

“Okay…no problem.” Myst jogged over to his side. Cupping his elbow, she used gentle hands instead of force and pulled him over to the table. “You don’t have to let her go, but you’ve got to put her down. I can’t help her unless you do…all right?”

The words made sense. Logical. Reasonable. Perfect freaking sense. And yet, he clung to Angela like a dying man to life, unable to do as Myst asked. His fear for her was too great, and like a beast with big teeth, it had bitten so deep Rikar didn’t know how to shake free.

Myst met his gaze. “Trust me, Rikar.”

Trust
. Christ, what a tall order. But as B’s female squeezed his arm, his muscles unlocked, opening the protective cage around Angela. The second he relinquished her, Myst went to work: shoving him to the head of the table, telling him to hold Angela’s head still, to talk to her, to soothe her, all while staying the hell out of the way. Her tone didn’t brook any argument. Rikar didn’t offer any. Instead he watched, tears clouding his vision as each cut and scrape was revealed on her pale skin.

The bastards. The fucking bastards.

They’d hurt her so badly. Used superior strength to hold her down. He could see the finger marks on her arms and throat. And God, the needle marks on the curve of her belly—just above her hipbones—almost killed him. But the worst? The bruises on the insides of her thighs.

Sinking to his knees at the end of the table, Rikar tucked his face against hers, put them cheek-to-cheek as he stroked her gently. His female. Even broken and bruised, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. And as he felt her flinch and heard her whimper, Rikar held her close and made a promise. He would avenge her. Lay waste to Seattle—burn the whole city to the ground—to find the Razorback lair and kill them all.

Lightning forked, stroking the underbelly of dark clouds. Stupid thunderstorm. The crash-bang was lighting him up like a firefly, illuminating his black scales, giving the enemy a clear line of sight and plenty to track. Lothair banked hard, maneuvering around another tight corner. The mountain terrain, all the narrow crevices and sharp peaks, should’ve helped him. Instead he was flying blind, looping like a circus animal between sheer cliff faces to evade the Nightfury warriors on his tail.