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Yep. Leto and his playmates were on the way, only this time they’d be armed to the teeth. Swords were the only battle weapons allowed on Two. On Mortal Earth, however, there were no limits, with the exception of atomics and full regiments.
If he didn’t take action, he and Alison would be toast in little less than a minute.
So where was she?
He could feel her presence now as well as smell her. Even her heartbeats sounded in his ears.
He gave his head a shake and cleared away the last remaining aftereffects of the fall.
He drew in a sharp breath. His nostrils flared. Her scent stroked him again. In twelve hundred years he had never been so affected by a woman, but Alison was a perfect mate, designed to torture him even at inconvenient times. Her pheromones charged the air and dragged over his skin like sharp, erotic fingernails. So this was what the breh-hedden did to a man? And just how easy was this going to be to disengage? Holy hell.
He paused. He reached out with his mind, located her, then turned around on the hood of the car, crouching low. He looked through the windshield.
Time once again slowed to a standstill.
There she was staring at him, her large blue eyes opened in surprise. Sweet merciful God. He wanted her. He wanted her like he had never wanted a woman before, like he had just figured out what woman was.
Heat and desire cascaded off her body in brilliant red waves. His lips curved. The not-so-subtle mating experience was apparently mutual.
As cold air spilled over the car, he drew his mind out of his present need. He had to get Alison to safety … now.
He rolled off the hood then picked up his sword. He caught her gaze again as he rounded the driver’s side. She tracked his moves and stared at him unblinking. Her lips were parted in a soft expression of shock.
He strode to the door then jerked it open. “Move over … now … or we’ll both be dead in about twenty seconds.”
She compressed her lips and searched his face. He could see her mind spinning, processing. A moment later she slid her backside over the lump of her purse, which she tossed into the backseat, then latched her seat belt like her fingers were on fire.
He folded his sword back to the locked case in his basement before he climbed into the driver’s seat. As he slid in, his knees hit the steering wheel. He moved the seat back with a swift jerk but even then he barely fit into the confined space.
He looked at her as he started the ignition with a touch of his finger. “Let me say this again: whatever you do, don’t handle another warrior’s sword. They’re forged to individual recognition and if you touch one, other than your own, you’ll die. Got it?”
He hoped the woman had good instincts. If she was able to blast a hole in another dimension, she ought to. On the other hand, instincts often went to character and right now he knew nothing about this woman except of course that he wanted to be inside her, like now.
“Got it,” she said. She finally blinked.
He met her gaze. He hoped like hell she had a sense of humor because damn, she was going to need it over the next few days. Okay, hours. Whether she understood it or not, her life had just been blown all to hell.
He put the gearshift in reverse, stepped hard on the gas, and began backing up.
Slowly.
He gripped the steering wheel and withheld a lengthy string of expletives.
The car chugged along like it had all night and all day to get out of the alley.
Dammit.
He hit the steering wheel. “What the hell is this?” he cried.
“Well, it’s a 1993 Nova,” she said. “Top speed sixty if you don’t mind the shaking.”
“We’re screwed.”
He kept backing up anyway. He ground his teeth. If he’d been able to fold, as any proper resident of Second was able to do, then he could have just put a hand on her and taken her to his house in Queen Creek. Now his safety and hers depended on a junk pile gaining speed like a tortoise headed for a siesta.
Goddammit.
* * *
Alison stared at her warrior-vampire-guardian as he drove the Nova backward down the alley. The desert couldn’t have been drier than her mouth and her chest fired off heartbeats like rounds of ammunition. “So what is it? Are the death vamps on their way?”
He shot his gaze to hers. “So you do remember?”
“I found the memories you took, so yeah, I remember the battle at the medical complex.”
“Christ,” he muttered. He slung his arm across the back of her seat as he looked through the rear window and guided the car at an increasing speed toward the street. “And yes, the death vamps are on the way.”
“Exactly how many?”
“At least three, maybe more.”
“But they’ll fall like you so we’ll have more time. Right? They’ll be hurt? They’ll need time to recover?”
He shook his head. “Nope. They’ll float down and they’ll most likely have a bomb with them.”
“A bomb.” Her breath came out in one long slow drag. “You know, you’re kind of scaring me.”
“Good.”
He backed into the street, the wheels squealing as he made a turn. He shifted to drive and once again the car lurched forward at a snail’s pace. He hit the steering wheel a couple more times and appeared to work his mouth over another obscenity or two. He moved into the sparse three AM traffic.
“Watch behind,” he said, “and tell me what happens.”
Just as Alison turned around to look out the rear window, a loud explosion ripped the air. Her whole body jerked in response.
“There’s smoke and fire, stuff flying everywhere,” she cried. “What was that?”
“A nifty little bomb called a shredder. It’s full of shrapnel and, when tossed in grenade fashion, explodes in a pre-set direction. One of the Commander’s little creations.”
The Commander again. Darian. Her Darian. The psychopath who talked about his fantasy kills the way most people described a family dinner. She shuddered all over again.
“We wouldn’t have survived if we’d been back there.”
“Blown to bits.”
She glanced at him. Her heart seized. What did this mean? “So Darian, the Commander, wants me dead?”
He nodded. “Yes, but keep watching. Tell me what else you see.”
She arched around again and sucked in a quick breath. “There are three men, one as big as you and the other two are like the death vampire at the medical complex. No wings, though.”
She turned to face him again. “Will they come after us? The men on the street?”
