Into His Command (19 page)

In short, making herself a neon target for the ninjas.

Dread pounded my veins, gauzed my thoughts. My stomach rose to my throat. Not that
screaming at Jayd was even an option. If those bastards knew how close they were getting
to her, with every passing second—

God help us
.

Just like that, time slowed once more. Every passing instant was blown bigger than
life, magnified and treacherous, like an approaching tarantula. Every footfall was
sludging thunder. The rifle shots were sci-fi screams of metal and fire. Moving felt
like dragging an elephant through an oil slick. Somehow, I did. Crawled, shaking and
frantic, to the edge of the couch I hid behind, until gaining a clear view of the
archway to the entertainment alcove…

The ninjas were moving fast. They’d swept the bedroom first. Once they reemerged into
the living room, they’d see Jayd—

And do what?

Were they here to capture her? Kill her?

Another three seconds, and we’d all know.

Unless I moved my elephant-in-oil ass first.

‡

“B
rookie! Hiiii. Hey,
what’re you—what the—ahhhh!”

Nothing like a few rounds from several guns, along with the sight of approaching enemy
soldiers, to sober a girl up.

At least that’s what I hoped. And what it seemed. Jayd, frantically panting on the
floor beneath me, stared with eyes like the Northern Lights at full burst. “Wh-what
is happening? Brooke?”

“Ssshhh!” Most ridiculous command ever. My pounding heart and wild nerves gave me
no option. I ducked against the couch to keep from whimpering beyond that, listening
as the ninjas stalked closer.

Until I saw the bright red stain on Jayd’s neck. “Oh, no.” Both words stabbed through
my head. “You’re bleeding.” Those too.

Jayd’s lips trembled. “Not
me
!”

No time to process who was right. With disgusting timing, time sped up again.

Jayd’s strident shriek.

The pain in my head, now delivered by shrieking Banshees, set free in my nervous system.

The shadow looming over me. His sweat dripping on the back of my neck. His bellow,
booming through me. “Aha! Here they are!”

More banshees. More spears of pain, tearing through my body, especially my left shoulder
and arm. Pushing up on it caused my vision to double. I forced my thoughts to clear
long enough for a fast prayer upward. Training and instincts were only going to take
me so far.

But damn, I hoped that distance was much farther than this.

The desperation stampeded in. Annihilated everything except an instinct so old, it
was trite.
Kill or be killed.
Jag had often talked to me about what to expect if I ever fought anyone for my very
life, but I’d listened to his accounts like a kid hearing fairy tales. Adrenalin drowning
pain? Vision clouded with rage? Every other sound in the room dropping away? Sure.
And giants climbed beanstalks while wolves passed as grannies.

I owed Jag a huge apology.

As soon as I killed this asshole.

Jayd screamed again, making it impossible to think—or maybe that was due to the soldier’s
hand, wrenching into my hair. He hooked his other arm around my waist, using that
to hurl me to the couch. I braced for the impact of the terror—for the memories to
once more flood back, turning me back into that terrified girl, sucking in lungs full
of dead flowers, fresh sulphur, and stark fear—but it never came. I was too pissed.
Entirely too ready to look this dude in the eye and let him see exactly what I thought
about him and his “friends” attacking
my
friends—

And my home.

I sucked back a breath through my teeth. Expelled it in a hiss. Jerked up my head,
steeling for the blow certain to come—but not until I’d gotten a good, hard glare
at this guy. Two seconds. That was all I’d get as material to analyze about him. His
stance, his focus, his strength—most importantly, his weakness. There wasn’t a fighter
I’d met, beyond Samsyn, who didn’t have a weakness.

Nothing like expecting something to go one way to ensure it didn’t.

I didn’t get two seconds to look at him. I got three. Then five. Then seven and even
nine, as the eyes behind the ski mask turned whiter and whiter, gawking like I’d turned
into a ghost. Had I? Was there a crucial step I’d missed here…that tidbit called dying?

“
Untoten
,” he snarled. “
Untoten!
”

I had no idea what he was saying nor did I care. The
bonsun
who’d grabbed me was now the soldier losing his shit in front of me, and I didn’t
need fate to toss the gift twice. Weakness discovered. Time to move.
Now.

Though my vision still showed two of him, I lurched at the craptoid. The less fuzzy
one had to be him, right? One knee to his groin and I’d buy the seconds Jayd and I
needed to run for deeper cover—

I was halted short. Robbed of strength and even air by a Hulk punch between my ribs.
I doubled over and dropped to my knees, gagging on waves of nausea. Somehow, I managed
to battle the pain—and Jayd’s next scream—to confront the giant who’d stomped to his
friend’s rescue.

Shit.
Looked like his ski mask had been a damn good idea. Even through the thing, I could
tell the bastard had broken his nose too many times. Glimpses of his skin showed pits
worse than the Asuman caves. He leered at me, exposing teeth—all four of them—apparently
held together by old particles of food. That had to explain his breath. As the monster
used my hair to drag me back up, I prayed for relief from the
eau de dead cat
spewing with his breaths. This couldn’t be right. Wasn’t I supposed to be thinking
of clouds and white light and the glorious times of my life, instead of wishing I
could take a bath in mouthwash?

“Brooke! Oh, Creator! Brooke!” Jayd was
really
sober now. As more rifle fire thudded the air, I forced my hand up and down, motioning
her to stay on the floor. Syn would never forgive me if she died.
I’d
never forgive me if she died.

Down, Jayd. Stay down
!

I thought I heard myself yell it. Right before I set the stellar example—by doing
it.

Okay, not me.
Really
not me. My knees, joining the pain parade with dual screams, helped drive the point.
Hulkie had dropped me—right before falling to the deck himself. He hit the floor with
a massive
whomp
. His unblinking eyes, bloody mouth, and bullet-punched forehead were morbid twins
in my vision.

My breath returned, only it was agony too. My lips spewed wild whimpers. Somehow,
I found the shut-off switch. Killing the cries didn’t help the horror. I scrambled
from Mr. Halitosis as far as I dared, while still searching for Jayd. Where the
hell
was she? Hadn’t she just been here a second ago? Fuck.
Fuck.
Had they gotten her? And who the hell had shot the giant? Had that bullet been meant
for me?

I plopped onto my butt, back against the couch, fighting for every breath—

When massive arms banded me again.

I let the banshees out. Let the rubber bands fly off the tight ball. Lost my mind—and
was grateful for it. If this was the end, I was sure as hell going down with a scream
in my throat, a pair of crushed balls beneath my knees. One of my hands clocked the
asshole’s jaw. My knee jabbed his upper thigh.
Dammit
. Not close enough. I’d just try again. I’d fight until I couldn’t. Scream until I
was hoarse. Struggle until they tied me up and—

“Brooke!” Jayd again. Shrill and sober as ever.
Thank God.
“
Brooke
!”

“Save…yourself.” Where the hell had
that
strength come from? And did it matter? “Get out of here, Jayd! Get
out
while you can!”
Shit
. This jerk was stronger than the other hulk. And smarter. He knew every one of my
evasion tactics, as if taught by Jagger himself. Maybe he
had
been.

Somebody had to lodge a complaint with the universe. Death was
not
the package I’d been promised. I wanted my clouds and angels.

“
Astremé
. Dammit,
please
be still.”

Ohhh. So
that
was the shit up fate’s sleeve.

No angels.

Only one.

And for him, I’d gladly give up the damn clouds.

My sharp sobs turned into shaky laughs. I clutched at him, needing him close. My senses
collided, struggling to process how different he suddenly was. His hair was nearly
gray with caked soot. The stuff was even layered on his thick lashes. Soot streaked
the perfect angles of his face. He even smelled different. It went beyond the battle
residue. Something deeper, more acrid. And why did he still look so eyeballs-deep
in despair? Surely the insanity—or whatever the hell it’d been—was over.

“Hey…big guy?”

He smiled. Sort of. “Yes, my little warrior?”

Wow
. Now that was nice. I wanted to tell him so, but turning thoughts into words felt
harder by the second, and I still had important questions to ask. “Is—is everyone
safe? Cam? Evrest?”

He stared like I’d asked him how to get to the nearest wormhole but answered softly,
“Yes. Everyone is fine. Please
be still
, Brooke.”

“Why? Are we still under attack? Wh-what happened?” I lifted my head.
Not
slick. Pain and dizziness pushed it back down, into the pillow of his elbow.

“Dammit!” So much for gentle giant Syn. His roar tore through him then me, terrifying
in its intensity.

Shit. Because
he
was terrified?

“Bo! Where the
fuck
are the medics?”

He was answered by goobly-gook squawking. I heard the same chatter near my neck; my
comm line had likely been knocked loose. I couldn’t make out any words. Only knew
that Bo sounded much more collected than Syn.

“Not fast enough,” Syn barked. “Not fucking fast enough!”

“Syn—”

“Shut up, Jayd.”

“Hey.” The smoky sough was the best I could do—but watching it effect Samsyn like
a dagger to the gut made
my
gut hurt. And other places. All my ribs felt crushed at once, squeezing my heart,
threatening my air. “It’ll be okay, big guy.”

He looked ready to tell me to shut up too.

“Samsyn.” I blinked hard. There were suddenly two of him now—on a regular day, not
a damn bad thing—except that I lifted a hand to brush comforting fingers to his jaw,
and got a knife of agony down my arm instead. I writhed, letting the limb fall. Syn
caught it, his grip gentle but his voice furious.

“
Dammit
, woman! Stop moving or I’ll tie you down!”

My giggle felt like bubbles in my ears. “Ooooo; really?”

“Brooke—”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Hmmm. I’d probably like that too.” My sultry smile
slipped as a shiver took over. “But can we do it someplace warmer? I’m really cold
all of a sudden.”

Darkness began to join the chill. I flailed against it, but the current grew too strong.
So strong. The black waves pulled me like a rip tide, dragging at me harder…harder…

A wave of it crashed in, too huge and mighty to fight anymore. But as blissful and
quiet as the black sea was, I struggled to get back to shore—where Samsyn still bellowed
like a wild, wounded animal.

“Bo! Get them here
now
. By the Creator, if you
bonsuns
let her die, I shall exact
your
fucking flesh as payment!”

‡

L
ights intruded again,
all too fast. So bright. So blaring. I resisted them, along with the hands that prodded
and poked and stabbed, tearing me from the sea of silence with ropes of pure pain.
All of it was connected to my left upper arm. I screamed, trying to pull away, but
they were damned intent on making it feel sawed-off before they actually hacked it.
That had to be their plan. Nothing else could feel this horrendous.

“
Dammit
! Fucking…butchers.” I dug in my heels, bucking against their captivity. In seconds,
the pain in my arm shot through my body. A hundred hands swept in, subduing me again.
I panted hard. Fought waves of weariness and helplessness. Felt myself losing.