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With the dump well under way, she nodded to Marcus and told him to do his worst.
* * *
Alison now stood beside the Nova, completely still, her hand on the car as an anchor.
Her heart pounded in her ears, the toms still beating out a painful rhythm. She’d heard the voices of several men and she knew for certain one of those voices belonged to the winged vampire warrior she’d come to know as Kerrick.
She had also heard the clanging of metal like swords being struck hard together, which made sense since she’d already witnessed a sword fight. Then suddenly, as quickly as it had begun, the fighting ceased and silence followed.
A third man with a nasally voice gasped, “Where the hell did he go? Fuck. We’ve lost him.”
“He got dumped into the Trough.” She recognized the voice of the man called Leto, the one Kerrick had taunted. “Shit, where the hell is Crace? Goddammit.”
“He’s not answering?” another voice asked.
“No.” A string of obscenities followed, then, “What the hell?”
“Hello, Leto. Wanna stop playing with your phone long enough to show these numbnuts how a real fight is conducted?”
“Well, f**k me,” Leto said, “look what just crawled out of the swamp—Marcus the f**king Coward. You done hiding on Mortal Earth?”
“So you went traitor, you goddamn sonofabitch.”
More steel clanged … then silence, like someone had punched a mute button.
Alison stared hard up at the dark sky. So, Kerrick had gotten dumped. What exactly did that mean?
From out of nowhere, a blast of arctic air descended on her. The temperature had been a little chilly a moment earlier and yet a powerful stream of icy cold air suddenly flowed from nowhere. She started to shake. What on earth was happening?
The airwaves above began to pulse. Her heart thumped all over again. She sensed that something—no, someone—was coming.
Kerrick, her winged vampire warrior?
Her heart beat heavily in her chest all over again. She shouldn’t want to see him so much, but she did.
The air now pounded on her as though the sky expanded and contracted in slow heavy waves. The pressure increased and her head started to hurt. An intake of air rushed from both ends of the alley, sweeping up in a funnel around her then taking her off the ground. She cleared a whole foot of space. Loose papers whirled everywhere.
She thought, Tornado, maybe? However, not even the faintest wisp of a cloud marred the black sky.
Her chest constricted and she couldn’t breathe. She trembled all over. Maybe she shouldn’t have sent a hand-blast into the air after all. Maybe ascension was something she didn’t really want to take on.
A little too late for that.
Suddenly the air collapsed. She fell to her knees and cried out as rough asphalt bit into her skin. She rose up and plucked grit out of the palms of her hands.
What the hell had just happened?
Again she looked up.
Silence followed.
An awful, deafening silence.
She dropped into a protective crouch again, hunching as near to her Nova as she could get. Something bad, really bad, was about to happen.
She heard a fluttering, which got louder in incremental bursts as an object came into view heading straight for her. Not an object, a man in a kilt. Oh, God! He was going to fall hard.
She turned away from the sudden crunch of metal as Kerrick landed on the hood of her car. At nearly the same instant an odd metallic clattering sounded onto the asphalt in front of the vehicle.
The airwaves stopped pulsing.
Silence followed. No breeze, no voices, nothing. Even the chill had disappeared.
She rose up to look at him, her legs locked in place.
Surely he was dead.
Tears stung her eyes.
She blinked several times.
Okay, Alison, get a grip. At least see if he’s still alive.
She rounded the front of the car and looked down at him. He wore his black leather kilt with a harness belted around his waist and covering his chest, shoulders, and back. His arms were muscled and corded just as she remembered. He’d held her in his arms like she’d been a feather.
He lay in a depression in the metal, his legs hanging off the side of the car at an awkward angle. Part of his long thick wavy black hair fanned over his face; the other part was held back by some kind of leather clasp. She wanted to push the strands off his cheek to look at him again but he couldn’t still be alive, not after falling so far. Her heart constricted. She really didn’t like the idea at all that Kerrick might be dead.
Oh, God. Please don’t let it be true.
Something rattled on the asphalt behind her. She turned around. His sword vibrated against the asphalt.
She bent down to pick it up.
“Don’t touch the sword.”
She gasped as she rose, turning to stare at Kerrick. Through the thick strands she caught sight of a glistening eye then he blinked at her.
“Don’t touch it,” he said, more quietly this time. His deep voice drove into her chest, wrapped a couple of times around her heart, then pulled tight. “You’ll die.”
“Kerrick?” she asked, wanting to make certain she had not mistaken his identity.
“So you remember me.”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
“Yes.”
The eye closed. Come to me whispered through her head, then his body went limp.
She stared at him for a long moment. This really was Kerrick, her warrior-vampire from the medical complex and from the club.
So what had just happened? Had he given her a warning about the sword, spoken tender words over her mind, then dropped dead on the hood of her car?
She settled two fingers on his neck.
Thank God. His pulse beat steady and strong. She pushed the hair away from his face. How had he survived such a terrible fall? She placed her hand on his cheek.
“You are so beautiful,” she whispered. A new ache settled deep in her chest.
Come to me.
Could he really speak to her while unconscious?
I’m here, she sent.
His chest rose and fell as if on a sigh.
She felt dizzy, her legs weak beneath her. How had they both ended up in the same alley right now, here, tonight? She had never been big on destiny, but given the evidence in front of her she could almost believe.
She stepped forward and couldn’t resist pushing his upper lip back. And there they were, lengthened incisors. She touched the left one at the tip but apparently pressed too hard. Blood pooled instantly and dripped against his lips.
He moaned and sucked at her finger yet didn’t awaken. The feel of his mouth doused her in sharp arousal. As she withdrew her finger, desire sank low. My God, even unconscious this man-vampire-warrior had the power to undo her.
