And heard her soft voice begging him not to.
“Please, don’t bite me, Sylvan.” Her tone was filled with fear and agitation. “Please.”
The fear and pleading in her voice cut through the blood lust that had fallen over him like a smothering curtain. Though his need to bite her remained just as strong, his reason returned and enabled him to hold back…at least for the moment.
Sylvan paused.
Have to stop. Have to let her go now, he told himself firmly. But the voice of reason was weak, ineffectual. In contrast the roar of the beast within was almost deafening. Need her. Want her. Have to mark her—make her mine! Now!
He couldn’t help himself anymore. The need to have her, to bind her to him was simply too great. The bonding wouldn’t be complete because his cock wasn’t buried to the hilt inside her pussy. But filling her with his essence would still mark her as his and keep other males away from her. And he had to have her. Oh Goddess, Mother of All Life, forgive me…
His fangs throbbed and stung with a pleasurable kind of pain. The ache of fullness which could only be relieved by biting and releasing their load of essence into tender, female flesh. Sylvan stretched his jaws wide—
“Sylvan? Sylvan can you hear me?” The familiar mind voice invaded his head, cutting through the claiming lust and the urge to blood his bride like a knife.
“Baird?” he sent back, hardly able to believe it. “Is that you?”
“It’s me, Brother. I hope I’m not interrupting anything but you’re in danger.”
Sylvan looked at Sophia. He saw the fear in her eyes, felt the way she was trembling as she waited for him to bite. He was in danger in more ways than his brother knew. In danger of harming the female he would rather die than hurt. In danger of breaking his vow, both to Sophia and to the Mother of Life.
“Oh yes, you’re interrupting,” he sent grimly. “But don’t worry about it.” He had never been more glad to be interrupted in his life.
Sophie was beyond relieved when he stopped in mid-chomp. She could see his fangs pressing against her vulnerable inner thigh, could feel their razor sharp tips digging into her tender flesh. But he hadn’t broken the skin…yet.
The sight and feel of him about to bite her had her nearly hyperventilating. The pleasure of the intense orgasm he’d given her was rapidly draining away to be replaced by an all consuming fear as panic raced through her. It brought her past back in a sickening rush—reminded her too much of what she’d gone through when she was still a little girl.
The shots…the transfusions…needles everywhere…She could almost smell the rubbing alcohol—that harsh, stinging gonna-get-a-shot odor that made her stomach churn with dread. All she could think of was how much it was going to hurt—that sharp, hard stick of a needle sinking into flesh—multiplied by the four jagged points in his mouth.
“Please,” she breathed again, afraid to move, afraid to do anything but beg. “Please, Sylvan, don’t.”
With a low, frustrated growl, he pulled back. But the need in his eyes still burned just as brightly, his lust for her white-hot and unquenchable. “Need to mark you. Need to make you mine.” His voice was the growl of a beast denied its prey. “But I won’t. Not now.”
“Sylvan…”
“Get up.” He was already urging her off the bed and reaching for his clothes. “Baird called me from the Mother ship. He’s coming for us but he says the urlich aren’t far from the cabin. We’re going to have to make a run for it.”
“What? Did he bespeak you? How does he know?”
“Yes, he bespoke me. And Deep and Lock told him—they’re finder/seekers.” He was pulling on his black flight pants and tall black boots as he spoke. “Here.” He threw her the blue uniform shirt which had been lying at the end of the bed.
“Finder whats?” She was pulling on the shirt as she spoke, infected by his sense of urgency.
“Never mind. Let’s just hope you’re marked well enough that my scent throws them off.”
“Am I? I mean, can’t you tell?”
Grabbing her arm he pulled her close. Leaning over her, he inhaled deeply, his eyes closed for a moment as if in deep concentration. When he opened them, there was a troubled look on his face. “I think you are but it’s hard for me to tell. I’m so sensitive to your scent now I smell it even when I shouldn’t be able to.”
“What? What does that mean?” She looked at him worriedly.
“It means your scent is imprinted on my brain—like everything else about you.” He cupped her cheek and stared down into her face. “The color of your eyes, the exact tone of your voice when you’re nervous, or frightened, or in need. The shade of pink your cheeks turn when you’re embarrassed. I’m full of you, Sophia. Full to overflowing…but it does me no good.”
“I…” She wanted to look away from the frightening intensity of his gaze but somehow she couldn’t. “I don’t know what that means,” she whispered at last.
“It means I’m damned.” His tone was desolate. “Completely and utterly damned.” Abruptly he let her go. “Baird says there’s a clearing a half a mile North of here. If we can get there, out into the open sunlight, we’ll be safe. And the sooner we go the better.”
Sophia took a deep breath, trying to push down the fear and panic that wanted to rise and overwhelm her. “All right, I’m as ready as I’m going to be. Let’s go.”
He frowned at her. “How’s your ankle? Can you run on it or do I need to carry you?
“There’s no way you can carry me half a mile up the mountain at a dead run,” she objected.
Sylvan looked at her sternly. “I can if I have to. So tell me now and don’t lie to me or yourself—can you run on that ankle or not?”
Sophie bounced up and down a few times experimentally. There was a slight twinge but nothing she couldn’t deal with. “I’ll be fine,” she said, hoping it was true. “Honestly, Sylvan, I will. Now let’s go.”
He gave her another long look and then nodded, as though deciding to take her word for it. Taking her hand he led her to the door. “Quietly,” he murmured, putting his ear to the splintered wood. “Let me listen.”
Sophie held her breath and tried to be as quiet as a mouse, praying he wouldn’t hear a thing. When he pulled away from the door his face was a little more hopeful.
“I hear them but they’re still far away. If we hurry we can make it up to where Baird is going to land before they get to us.”
“Let’s go then,” Sophie urged. “Hurry up!”
Sylvan moved the chair that had been blocking the door. “When I open the door we need to run as fast as we can,” he told her. “And whatever you do, whatever you hear, don’t look behind you. The urlich take direct eye contact as a challenge—looking at them will only speed them on. Got it?”
“Yes,” Sophie whispered through numb lips. Now that they were actually about to step out of the safety of the cabin, the panic she’d been trying to hold back was eating her alive.
“Good.” Sylvan nodded at her and gripped her hand tighter. Yanking the door open he pulled her out of the cabin and away from the last vestige of safety. “Now, run!”
Sophie ran.
It was uphill going, but thankfully not as steep as she’d feared and Sophie risked a quick glance at their surroundings. The trees around the cabin were big and old, casting their shadows over the thickly wooded area as far as the eye could see. It wasn’t quite leaf season yet, but some of the leaves had started to turn from green to brilliant yellow and vermillion. It would have been a beautiful scene if Sophie hadn’t been frightened out of her mind and running blind. Luckily, Sylvan seemed to know exactly where he was going and he pulled her after him ruthlessly, his grip on her hand unbreakable.
How far have we gone? How long does it take to run a half mile anyway? She knew how long it would take her at the gym setting an easy jogging pace on the treadmill but that was a far cry from running for her life. Now she wished she’d visited the gym much more regularly. But
it was too late for that—all she could do now was pray she was able to keep going and get out of the forest alive.
Sophie’s bare feet flew over the last year’s fallen leaves and sharp, stabbing twigs as she struggled to keep up. She was going to be in some serious pain after this run was over—her hurt ankle was already throbbing—but none of that mattered at the moment.
Because now she could hear the urlich coming up behind them.
At first it was just a scuffling sound, like many paws rushing through the undergrowth, and a few short, inquisitive barks. Then there was a loud, long, baying—the call of a wolf or a wild dog when it finds the scent of prey. The blood chilling howl was answered by many more voices taking up the call, until she felt like a fox or a rabbit with a pack of hounds after her.
Sophie had been falling behind but the frightening cries gave her a second wind. Gasping for air, her breath tearing in her throat, she gripped Sylvan’s hand tighter and put on a new burst of speed.
“There—ahead.” He didn’t sound a bit out of breath and it occurred to Sophie that he would have been able to go much faster without her. She looked where he was pointing and saw a brilliant spot of sunlight in a clearing up ahead. It was nothing more than a dusty, unpaved parking lot in the back of a ramshackle building, but to her it looked like an oasis in the desert.
Safe, we’ll be safe there! she thought deliriously. If we can only get to it… There was still a long way to go under the cover of the trees before they reached the sunlit refuge. But at least they could see it, could see they were headed in the right direction.
The urlich behind them seemed to see the clearing too because there was a chorus of angry growling and barking behind them. Oh my God, they’re gaining! Sophie started to turn her head to see how close the animals were and then remembered what Sylvan had said. Resolutely, she kept her face forward and kept running, trying to ignore the fear that rushed through her like fire.
She’d never liked big dogs—especially fierce ones. Growing up, their next door neighbors had raised Dobermans and one of them had gotten out into the neighborhood once while she and Liv were riding their bikes. It had chased them eight blocks and Sophie had pedaled until she thought her heart would burst, sure it was going to catch them and kill them both.
But the Doberman that got loose wasn’t genetically and mechanically modified, whispered a little voice in her head. The urlich are. And if they catch you they won’t just bite. They’re looking for you for a reason. Because the Scourge want you…
Okay, none of this was what she needed to be thinking about right now. At the moment what she needed was to concentrate on was—
A fresh round of baying and snarling cut her thoughts off as cleanly as a sharp knife.
Because these sounds were coming from in front of them.
They were surrounded.
Twenty
“I’ve got the clearing in my sights.” Baird spoke into the com-link he wore clipped to his ear as he piloted the medium sized shuttle he’d gotten to replace the one Sylvan had crashed. The Master of Ships hadn’t been too happy about that—the tech that went into even the smallest and simplest Kindred craft was considerable and expensive. But Baird was a war hero with friends on the High Council—which was the only reason he was being allowed to fly down to Earth now when the whole planet was on lock down. The Council still weren’t sure exactly what was going on with the Scourge, but it seemed certain they’d developed some troubling new forms of technology which needed to be identified and either duplicated or destroyed.
“Hurry,” Deep’s voice said in his ear. “There’s a pack of urlich closing in on them right now.”
“I’ll come out swinging,” Baird promised. “I’ve got my blazer and I brought Sylvan’s too. I’m sure he’ll be glad to get it.”
Be careful! The new voice came not from the com-link but from inside his head. It was Olivia and she sounded worried.
I will be, Baird promised her. I’ll bring them both back safely. I promise, Lilenta.
Love you… The voice faded to a whisper in his mind as he got out of range. Even the mind-link forged when a Kindred bonded to his bride had some limits. Baird would have felt lonely without her soft voice but he didn’t have time. Sophia and Sylvan were in trouble. He just hoped he was in time to save them and keep his promise to his bride.
“Up the tree. Now!” Sylvan was already giving her a boost as he spoke.
Sophie gripped the rough bark tightly and scrambled with her bare feet against the side of the trunk. She winced as her hurt ankle chose that exact moment to twist the wrong way again, leaving it practically useless. Damn it—not now! Not when I have to climb! She did her best to get higher but the next available branch was far above her head and well out of reach. She tried to jump for it, landed wrong on the hurt ankle again and gasped in pain. In response, the slender branch supporting her weight shivered and gave an ominous creaking sound. It was then that she realized she was still alone in the tree.
“Sylvan?” she said anxiously, looking down at him. He was standing braced beneath the tree, half crouched with his arms spread, obviously ready for combat. Sophie was aghast. “Sylvan, what are you doing?” she demanded. “They’re coming—get up here!”
“That branch won’t hold my weight.” He didn’t look up as he spoke, still scanning for the impending threat.
“Then find another tree,” Sophie urged him. “Quick, while there’s still time.”
“No. I won’t leave you.”
“Sylvan, don’t be s—”
The words died in her mouth as the first of the urlich came into sight.
Sophie didn’t know what she’d been expecting—robot dogs with metal teeth maybe or something that was half alive and half machine—like that old movie, The Terminator. Instead she saw animals that were, well, just animals. In fact, they looked an awful lot like the Doberman which had chased her and Liv all those years ago. Except that they’re freaking huge!
They were as big as small horses and their cruel, pointed snouts were filled with razor sharp teeth, every one as long as Sylvan’s fangs. Aside from their size the only other unusual thing about them was their eyes.
They’re red, Sophie thought with a spasm of fear. Glowing red like coals.
“Get higher in the tree if you can,” Sylvan told her grimly, keeping his eyes glued to the largest urlich which seemed to be the leader. “They can’t climb but they can reach a good distance when they stand on their back paws.”
Sophie could see he was right. Standing on their hind paws, any one of the modified dogs would be well able to pluck her right out of the tree she was currently hiding in. And that’s exactly what’s going to happen. Because I can’t reach the next branch. And how the hell does Sylvan expect to fight them with no weapons?
Her answer came in the form of a low growl down at the base of the tree. As she had in the cabin, Sophia realized that the sound was coming from Sylvan, not the dogs. He was still crouched in a fighting stance and his fangs looked longer and sharper than she’d ever seen them. Just because he didn’t have a weapon in his hands didn’t mean he was unarmed. She had never seen him look more fierce, more threatening. But there are so many of them. And just one of him! A spasm of fear shot through her and then one of the animals leaped right at him.
Sophie bit her lip as Sylvan ran to meet the attack. She was certain the huge animal would rip out his throat and she wanted in the worst way to look away but she was mesmerized, her eyes glued to the action.
Sure enough the pointed snout full of teeth aimed right for the big warrior’s neck but at the last minute, Sylvan put his hands up. Not to protect his throat, though. Sophie watched in horror as he actually stuck both hands in the animal’s mouth. Oh my God, he’s going to lose all his fingers!
But before the urlich could clamp down, Sylvan had hold of its jaws and was prying them apart. Sophie could only imagine the sheer strength it took to hold such a huge, ferocious animal’s mouth open. Bu
t why is he doing it? What’s the point? True, it kept the urlich from biting but it seemed like there should be a better way to do that. What did Sylvan hope to accomplish?
A low whine was coming from the animal’s throat as Sylvan stretched its jaws wider and wider. And then he wrenched the entire head to one side and Sophie had the answer to her question. With a sharp cracking sound, the animal’s neck snapped and it fell in a limp heap at Sylvan’s feet.
Ugh! She flinched at the grizzly sound but there wasn’t time to freak out. Another urlich had launched itself at Sylvan. This one managed to avoid his hands and plow into him with enough force to take them both to the ground.
Sophie bit back a scream as she watched them roll over and over on the ground, the lethal jaws snapping inches from Sylvan’s face. The look on his chiseled features was grim and unyielding as he held the urlich off.
How can he fight up close like that? How long can he possibly hold it off? Suddenly the urlich went for Sylvan’s throat. But instead of his neck, the wickedly curving teeth found his bare shoulder. The beast ripped into him but Sylvan hardly seemed to notice. He shifted his grip and, in a gruesome example of role reversal, his fangs found the urlich’s throat instead. Then, with a quick, vicious jerking motion, he ripped it out.
Sophie’s breath caught in her throat as a spray of blackish-red blood fountained up from the dying urlich. A few droplets spattered her bare feet, hot and thick and slimy. And then Sylvan was up again and ready to face the next attacker.
She stared at him in awe. His jaw and chest were smeared with the urlich’s slick, black blood and he was bleeding heavily from the wound on his shoulder. But his face showed no signs of pain—only a fierce, animalistic determination to kill all the attackers or die trying.
It’s because he’s defending me, Sophie realized as she watched the four remaining urlich, including the large one that appeared to be the leader, circle her tree where Sylvan was still standing guard. He’s willing to die for me—to die protecting me, just like he said. What’s so special about me? What did I do to inspire such loyalty? Such…love? And will all that emotion really just disappear when we get back to the ship? If we get back to the ship? She didn’t have long to wonder because suddenly everything happened at once.
Brides of the Kindred Volume One: Books 1-4 Page 62