“Samantha!” he shouted. “Samantha, I’m coming!”
Fifty-Six
Someone was calling her name from far, far away—almost too far to hear. Sammi was still fighting for air but the hands around her neck were too big, too strong. His thumbs were digging into her windpipe and black flowers were blooming in her field of vision.
She still caught glimpses of her captor’s face, looming above her like a rancid moon. He was grinning down at her with furious glee and chanting over and over in a hoarse, ragged whisper,
“Whore…whore…whore…” as he squeezed and squeezed…
Suddenly someone new intruded on the scene.
“You son of a bitch, get off my female!” a deep, angry voice roared. It rang in Sammi’s ears, despite her fading senses.
And then someone was dragging Sonny-boy off her.
“Let go, you bastard. Let go!” the same deep voice was shouting.
The big, hot hands came loose from Sammi’s neck at last and she was able to choke in a gasp of air. She was too weak to move but she could see two forms struggling in front of the bed. Both of them were huge but one was bigger and had red eyes.
“You bastard,” the red-eyed one was growling. “I’ll kill you for daring to hurt my female. You’re fucking dead!”
He was choking the other figure, Sammi realized. Choking him the same way Sonny-boy had been choking her.
Wait! As her vision cleared, she realized one of them was Sonny-boy. And the other one…the other one was Roark!
He came for me, she thought and her heart swelled. He does care—he loves me after all!
She tried to tell him to be careful, but no voice came out at all when she tried to talk. There was only a stabbing pain where the big thumbs had dug into her neck that made Sammi gasp in pain and put a hand to her wounded throat.
In front of the bed, the fight went on but now the light was fading again. The hot, hard hands were gone but they had done their damage. Blackness began to eat ragged holes in the reality around her and Sammi thought,
He killed me after all. Roark came but he was too late. Too late…
And then everything went dark.
Fifty-Seven
Roark wanted to choke the bastard to death but through the partial bond he could feel Samantha fading. With a grunt of effort, he pushed the human male against the door frame and reached for his blaster. He should have used it before now, but the sight of his female being attacked had triggered the overpowering Rage inside him—the berserker fury which comes over all Kindred warriors when their female is threatened.
But time was of the essence. Samantha was injured—perhaps badly. He needed to finish this and take her back to the Mother Ship for immediate medical attention.
Yanking the blaster free of his belt, he shot the human male in the guts twice. The male’s small, piggy eyes widened in surprise as he sank to the floor. Looking down, he reached for the place where his internal organs had been…and found only a gaping hole.
“You…killed me,” he gasped, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
“If I didn’t, I’ll finish the job in a minute,” Roark promised him grimly. Turning, he ran to the bed and knelt beside Samantha’s limp form. Her face was white and there was a ring of dark red marks blooming around the fragile stem of her neck.
The sight made Roark sick with fear.
“Samantha?” he whispered. “Samantha can you hear me?”
He got no sign from her but he could still feel her inside his head through the partial bond the Goddess had strengthened. But she seemed to be fading fast—her life force was flickering like a candle flame about to go out.
“No!” Roark gathered her into his arms as carefully and quickly as he could. “No, Samantha—stay with me! I love you—I’m sorry I was such a fool. Please, stay!”
He got no response but he thought he felt the candle flame inside her grow just a tiny bit stronger. Cradling her against him, he lifted her off the bed. Stepping over the limp body of her captor, he started to leave—but was stopped when something grabbed hold of his boot.
Looking down, he saw that the human male was somehow still alive, despite the gaping gut wound. His eyes were crazed with fear and pain and he was trying to say something.
“Can’t…leave me…this way,” he wheezed, his eyes rolling up towards to meet Roark’s gaze. “Need…help.”
“You need death and that’s what you’ll get,” Roark growled savagely. “I only pray it takes a long fucking time to find you.”
Then he kicked free of the male’s grasp and carried Samantha up the stairs to freedom.
Fifty-Eight
“Please, can you tell me anything? Is Samantha all right? Will she live?” The words spilled from Roark’s mouth the moment the human doctor, Liv, came into the Med Center waiting room, where he was pacing like a caged animal.