Authors: Alexis Morgan
A certain Kalith warrior wasn’t the only one who understood the meaning of duty.
D
.J. bent low and started forward, his gun in one hand, sword in the other. The blade would be his first choice of weapons, but he couldn’t risk the Other getting the upper hand with Reggie depending on D.J. to rescue her.
The Other rose up to look around. Had the guy decided that he’d only been imagining someone dogging his footsteps? Maybe, because after ducking down briefly, the Other stood again to stare up the trail. After a few seconds, he started forward, his sword at the ready. D.J.’s prey moved slowly, his head sweeping from side to side, testing the night air and hunting using his sense of smell.
It was easy to know the instant the male picked up D.J.’s scent. The Other froze in midstep, slowly bringing his sword up into attack position. From where D.J. stood, he could take the Other out with a single shot. Tempting as it was, D.J. holstered his gun and followed the Kalith, Larem’s sword in his hand.
He was able to get surprisingly close before the guy realized he was no longer alone. He’d started backing up, only to realize that his prey stood right behind him.
D.J.’s predatory nature had him smiling. “Looking for me?”
The Other didn’t hesitate but spun and charged forward, swinging his sword in an arc designed to slash D.J.’s head from his shoulders. He blocked the blow with his own blade and shoved the bastard back a few steps.
D.J. taunted his opponent. “
Tsk, tsk,
is this how you usually greet guests in Kalithia? I didn’t see any of us trying to kill you while you were in my world.”
He went on the attack as he spoke. “Of course, I would’ve skewered both you and your buddy had I gotten the opportunity.”
The tip of his blade sliced open the Other’s cheek. Blood flowed in dark contrast to his pale skin, but the wound was more painful than serious.
“Did I mention that was my woman you kidnapped?” D.J. danced forward and marked the male’s other cheek the same way. “Tell me who has her and why, and I promise to ease your passing.”
The Other rejoined the battle, doing his own fair share of taunting in heavily accented English. “You will die screaming in my world, Paladin. I will celebrate your death by taking your woman to my pallet. I have already tasted her kiss and held her body against mine.”
D.J. fought to control his burning fury, knowing cold hate served him better in a battle to the death. He studied his opponent’s technique. The Other was good, but not great. No way this guy had the skills of a Sword Guardian. He might get lucky, but he’d never defeat D.J. on skill alone.
One thing was clear. The Other wouldn’t offer any useful information, not unless D.J. subdued him long enough to use some creative interrogation techniques. There wasn’t time for that, and it was doubtful the information would be reliable anyway.
But from the increasing panic in the guy’s fighting style, the dance was about to turn lethal. So far D.J. had managed to stay out of striking distance, but it was going to come down to stamina or bad luck.
With a bellow loud enough to wake the dead, the Other charged one last time, nicking D.J.’s sword arm and then shoving him backward. D.J. ignored the stinging pain and pushed back, causing the Other to lose his footing right at the edge of the drop-off.
For a handful of slow-motion seconds the Other hovered there, his arms pinwheeling until he finally lost his balance and went flying backward over the edge. His scream echoed through the valley, only to be cut off in midnote when his body crashed onto the rocks below.
D.J. peered over the edge in a futile attempt to determine if the Other was still breathing. All he could tell was that the Kalith wasn’t moving. Rather than wasting his time climbing down to make sure, D.J. opted for retrieving his pack and taking off down the trail after Reggie.
If the Other’s dying scream had carried as far as the campfire, his partner might panic. At the very least, he’d be waiting for D.J. now, most likely armed and ready to use Reggie as a hostage.
This time, D.J. wouldn’t hesitate to use the Glock. He ran full out, grateful for the boots that Barak had loaned him. They made little noise as he tore through the darkness. As he ran, he ignored the pain in his arm, his near exhaustion, and his lungs’ struggle to filter enough oxygen from the thin air.
All that mattered was getting to Reggie.
H
er captor was practically twitching with nerves. So far, Jeban had been the calm one, but with Kolar gone so long, he paced restlessly, stopping every so often to listen to the night.
She knew the instant he sensed something because he turned in her direction, his pale eyes reflecting the flames of the campfire. His hand hovered over the pommel of his sword, as if unsure about drawing his weapon. What had he heard that had him so freaked out? Rather than sit there on the ground, she rose to her feet, not sure what she intended to do. But whatever was about to happen, she’d face it head-on.
“What’s wrong, Jeban?” she asked, even though she doubted he’d actually answer. “Are your friends coming?”
He shook his head. “They aren’t due until late tomorrow afternoon. Kolar went hunting. It appears he found something.”
No, not something. Someone.
The two of them stood staring off into the darkness. She didn’t know about Jeban, but she couldn’t see much of anything beyond the circle of flickering light cast by the campfire. She tried closing her eyes, hoping that she’d be able to hear better that way.
After a few seconds of continued silence, a horrifying scream ripped through the night, only to be cut off abruptly, unfinished. The night grew quiet again, but this time with a feeling of building tension. Jeban didn’t hesitate. He drew his sword and then yanked Reggie close to his side, the blade at her throat.
“I would guess the hunt has ended,” he whispered near her ear. “The question is, which hunter was successful?”
With chill of cold steel against her skin, Reggie could neither talk nor even swallow for fear the sword would draw blood. Her instincts told her that someone had died up there on the trail. There was nothing to do now but wait and pray that the footsteps running through the night belonged to D.J. and not Kolar.
Time came to a screeching halt. For an eternity, it was just her, Jeban, and the pounding of her heart. Her captor had turned to stone, his body stiff with anticipation. His gaze remained trained on some invisible point in the impenetrable darkness beyond. What was he sensing that she wasn’t? Wave after wave of chills washed through her, fear quickly eroding her self-control.
Please, God, she didn’t want to die alone in this alien world, but neither would she go down without fighting. Calling upon all her years of training, she yanked her focus away from the anxiety churning in her chest and on to the externals.
She could hear her sensei’s gravelly voice in her head.
Breathe in and breathe out, slow and steady. Control yourself even if you cannot control the situation.
Good advice. As she gradually calmed down, she realized there was now a hair’s breadth more room between her neck and Jeban’s blade. If he so much as flinched, she’d go on the attack, using her bare hands if necessary.
Suddenly, she could make out the vague shape of someone coming toward them. One minute the trail was empty, and the next, as if forming from the darkest of the shadows themselves, a man stepped into the farthest reaches of the firelight. He wore all black and a Kalith cloak, the hood pulled down close to his face.
Her heart sank as he calmly strode toward them, everything about him screaming that he didn’t doubt his welcome. At first glance, she assumed it was Kolar. But then she looked again. After hours of trailing after the Kalith, she knew how Kolar moved. And this wasn’t him. She was sure of it.
The weight of the silence pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe and even harder to hope. If something had happened to Kolar, it didn’t necessarily translate to this guy being on her side.
Jeban shifted his weight, the first movement he’d made since he’d grabbed her. She leaned in the opposite direction, but he only tightened his hold.
Then he rattled off something in his native language. Whatever he said, it clearly wasn’t meant to be friendly. The newcomer showed no reaction at all, instead continuing his approach without a break in his step. If he was at all worried, it sure didn’t show.
Jeban spoke again, this time clearly in warning. He was growing more agitated by the newcomer’s refusal to answer because he once again pressed the blade of his sword against Reggie’s neck.
“I
will
kill her.” This time he spoke in English.
The hooded figure paused a short distance away and tossed the edge of his cloak back over his shoulders as he drew his weapon. A Kalith sword. Then she saw the gun in his other hand.
For the first time the new arrival spoke. “If she dies, so will you, and it will be a death without honor. You will die screaming for mercy, just as your buddy did.”
“Who are you?” Jeban demanded as he dragged Reggie back a few steps.
The stranger followed them, step for step. Then he tipped his head back and let the hood drop onto his shoulders. He was no stranger after all, at least not to her.
“Reggie, has this bastard or his dead partner hurt you?” D.J.’s dark eyes met hers, promising retribution if they had.
“I’ll be all right now,” she whispered around the pressure of the blade on her throat. “I knew you’d come.”
Her captor didn’t like that remark one bit. His hand dropped from her throat to her breast. “Tell me, human, is she really that good? That you risk dying for the chance to have her underneath you again?”
Did Jeban see his own death reflected in the Paladin’s angry gaze? Reggie hoped so. She might not survive the night, but at least the two men who had dragged her into this hellish world would pay for their crimes.
Then she realized that Jeban was now pointing his sword toward D.J. rather than at her. This might be her one chance to break his hold on her. She slowly blinked three times right at D.J. and then slowly tilted her head to the side, trying to convey her intent. The corner of his mouth twitched up in a small smile.
“So, tell me, Other, do you prefer death by bullet or blade? This sword was loaned to me by a Kalith friend, if you’re curious. Didn’t want you to think I stole it off your dead friend.”
As soon as Jeban started to respond, Reggie lunged to the side, dropping to roll out of his reach and leave him an open target for D.J. The Kalith charged after her, his sword raised and ready to slash down in a lethal arc. She had instinctively held up her arm to block the blow when a series of shots rang out. Jeban’s murderous fury evolved into a look of stunned surprise as his life ended in a burst of blood and brains.
Pure panic took over as Reggie stared at the aftermath. Jeban lay sprawled on the ground, crumpled and broken. His unseeing eyes stared at her in dead bewilderment as someone screamed loud and long. Even when she realized that she was making all the noise, she couldn’t seem to stop. It went on and on, ripping her throat raw.
Damn, D.J. hadn’t meant for Reggie to catch the brunt of the Other’s death. But if he’d delayed even a second longer to see if she could get out of range, the Other could’ve gutted her with his sword. Why the fucker had gone after her instead of D.J. was a mystery, unless he thought to hurt D.J. in the worst way possible by taking her life.
If Reggie had to end up covered in gore, at least it was the Other’s. D.J. paused to cover the body with the guy’s own cloak before kneeling down to wrap Reggie in his arms. She buried her face against his chest, still keening her pain and fear.
“Shhh, honey, it’s over for now. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
Slowly, her sobs slowed down and then stopped. But when she tried to wipe away the tears on her cheeks, her hands came away covered in blood.
She held out her bloody palms, her hysteria ramping up again. “Get it off! Please get it off!”
He’d love to accommodate her, but he had to prioritize what came next. He caught her hands in his as he looked around the Kalith’s camp.
“I will take care of this, but it will have to wait until I make sure there aren’t any more of these bastards in the immediate vicinity. By the looks of things, this place was set up for more than just the two of them and you.”
Reggie looked back toward the shrouded figure on the ground with a shudder.
“Jeban said the rest would be here late tomorrow.” Her words came out in hiccups as she fought to control the sobs.
“Good. That’s real good, Reggie. Okay, I’ll go back and get some water. The creek I passed is some distance away, but I promise I’ll haul ass. Will you be all right alone while I’m gone?”
“No, wait.” She held out a shaky hand to point in the opposite direction. “Past the tents. There’s water that way.”
Better yet. “Good, we’ll go wash all of that off you.”
He picked her up and carried her over to the side of a quiet pool of water that fed into a narrow stream. After setting her back down, he rooted through his pack for something Reggie could use to clean up with. A spare shirt would have to do. He tore off a strip to use as a washcloth while keeping the rest for a makeshift towel.
Then he tested the temperature of the water with his hand.
“The water is clear but a little cold.” He considered their options, none of them good. Best to just get on with it.
“Reggie, your clothes are covered in blood, so I need you to strip them off. Afterward, you can cover up with my cloak and sit by the fire while I wash out your clothes and hang them up to dry.”
She nodded, but her hands were shaking too hard to manage by herself. D.J. reluctantly took over, starting with her shoes and then working his way up to her tunic and trousers. Yeah, he’d been wanting to get Reggie naked, but not like this.
For both their sakes, he left her bra and panties in place for her to deal with. He did his honorable best not to notice how her nipples pebbled up in the evening chill or the way her narrow waist gave way to the gentle flare of her hips. God, he was a bastard for even thinking about such things.