“Keelah, run!” Bobbi shouted, as her friend started to scramble to her feet.
“I don’t want to leave you!” Keelah protested. But by now the other thug had drawn a long, silver knife and he was menacing her with it. Bobbi was desperately afraid he was going to stab her friend to death right in front of her.
“Go back to the compound and get help!” she told Keelah. “Run—hurry! Get one of the guards!”
Keelah took a look at the knife and seemed to understand that she was outmatched—a wooden skewer, no matter how sharp, wasn’t going to be able to fend off the huge butcher knife the other clan member was holding. With a last, agonized glance at Bobbi, she turned and ran back through the Market place.
“Help! Help!” Bobbi heard her shouting. “They’re taking my friend—help!”
“Hey, shouldn’t we try to stop her?” the clan member with the knife asked, frowning.
“Nah—let ‘er go,” the goon holding Bobbi said, shrugging. “Nobody at the Market gives a damn about another stupid female getting taken. We’ll have the job done long before she finds anyone to bring back with her.”
And with that, he started dragging Bobbi back to the blind alley he and the other henchman had come out of.
“C’mon,” he told his friend. “Let’s have some fun.”
44
Dragon shook his head as he watched the other male leave the jewelry shop. Surely Hexler was mistaken. A hit from another Clan, Dragon could well believe. Zerlix had pissed off nearly everyone in a forty click radius and many would be wanting to retaliate. But a hit on Bobbi from inside his own Clan? Never.
And besides, Bobbi is safe in the compound, he told himself. Mother Tizlah would never let her go out to the Market before she’s been here a whole solar month—she never breaks her own rules.
But what if Zerlix had decided that if he couldn’t have Bobbi, no one could? What if the hit was coming from him? Dragon thought, as he stepped outside the jewelry store and into the busy street.
The thought made his blood run cold. Surely not. Surely Bobbi was safe inside the family compound.
But what if she’s not? whispered a little voice in his head. What if she’s at the Market right now and she’s in danger?
Suddenly a voice spoke up inside his head—that same, strong feminine voice he’d heard in his dreams.
“Warrior, head the warning,” it said.
Dragon had been headed in the opposite direction, but now he turned towards the Market. He wasn’t about to ignore that voice—or the gut feeling he had that something was wrong.
He started off at a fast walk, which turned into a jog. But his sense of urgency grew and grew. Before long, he was running full out, heading for the Market. He had to get there and make sure everything was all right. He had to make certain the female he cared for was safe.
He just hoped the warning he’d gotten from Hexer was wrong. As the Market grew nearer, he was certain he must be. Surely his adoptive mother wouldn’t have allowed Bobbi to come out. And even if she did, she would keep an eye on her. She would…
And then he heard the screaming.
Bobbi! He knew it was her at once. And with that realization, something came forward inside him—something that had been hidden deep down and was now surging to get out.
No, Dragon thought. No, you can’t—we can’t!
Though who he was talking to and what they couldn’t do, he was unable to say. It was as though there was a second self hidden inside him—another being that cared for Bobbi every bit as much as he did—a being that had awakened when he found her on Avria Pentaura.
A deep, growling voice spoke from inside him and the words somehow came out of his mouth.
“Mine,” it said. “She is Mine—Ours. And we will kill to protect her!”
Dragon had no idea who was speaking, but he agreed entirely.
Whoever was hurting his female was going to die.
45
“Get your scaly hands off me! Let me go!”
Bobbi wasn’t going without a fight. She hit and kicked and screamed at the top of her lungs. But her petite size worked against her, as it had when Dragon had kidnapped her. She was simply too small and the Saurian thugs were too big. And, just as the first thug had predicted, nobody came to the sounds of her shouts and cries—clearly a woman getting hauled away by predatory men wasn’t unusual enough to warrant any attention here on Saurous.
Still, she wasn’t giving up. Even as they dragged her into the dark alley, she kept yelling and fighting.
“Help! Help me! Fire!” she shouted, since she had heard that shouting “fire” often got attention when calling for help wouldn’t. “Rape! Murder! Fire! Help!”
“Can’t you shut her up?” demanded the second Saurian—the one with the knife. “She’s so fuckin’ loud for such a little thing!”