Love Is in the Air (26 page)

Cautiously, Sal rose to her feet. The pretty beaded rope fell from her head, letting her blood-matted hair tumble down. She didn’t bother pushing it away from her face.

“Put the weapon down,” Sal managed to slur out.

The Crusader snickered. “You’re not exactly in any shape to order me around now, are you?”

The punk was right. Sal didn’t think she had it in her to issue an edict with enough force to make him drop the shard. But the glass in his hand?

That was a completely different matter.

“Melt,” Sal commanded.

She hadn’t even said the word all that forcefully, yet it seemed that the remainder of the decanter was eager to liquefy, and then revert to its sand origins, slipping right through the Crusader’s fingers.

Lionel rushed forward to kick his friend-turned-traitor. “Take that, you ass-wipe.”

Head pounding, she turned to the professor. “Where’s Tyr?”

“Oh, my God. You’re bleeding!”

She pushed away Lionel’s concerned hands and glared at the Crusader.

“What are the beast’s plans?”

The scrawny man tried to back away, but Sal whispered, “Hold.”

He tried to shuffle his feet, but they refused to obey. The Crusader could only cringe as she closed the distance until they were nose to nose.

“I’m not all that good at this commanding thing. The results are rather unpredictable. And, given the fact that I’ve never tortured anyone for information before, I’m not sure how pleasant it would be.”

Sal strove for a glare that Tyr would have been proud of, contemptuous and insulted by the Crusader’s very presence. That she would feel bad for her boot if it had to endure grinding him beneath it. Sal should know. She’d felt the look so many times before. She loaded all this into her stare, because, quite honestly, Sal was dizzy, scared, and feeling in way over her head.

The Crusader tried to hold her gaze, but ultimately his cheeks flushed as he looked away. Ever so slightly, Sal allowed herself to sag. Her head throbbed from the energy it took to generate that ferocious a stare.

She needed that stamina to keep herself upright.

“It’s not my fault,” the kid whined.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you the one who lured Lionel to the north wing? The abandoned north wing? Where you were going to serve your friend up to the beast?”

The Crusader wouldn’t look her in the eye.

“The beast didn’t come out to this island without a plan
B
. What is it?” He refused to answer, so Sal continued, “You were there, weren’t you? When he tortured Mika. When he sucked the information from her brain? You saw exactly what the beast was going to do to Lionel.”

He seemed to regain some confidence as he looked her in the eye. “I’m not talking, so if you’re going to kill me, kill me.”

Sal felt a primordial urge to do just that. She was shaken, badly injured, and adrenaline surged through her veins. Her primitive mind latched onto the idea. To tap into that kind of power? To bring such an intent into the world? She could only imagine the rush, the thrill. It had to be the greatest high ever. It would take all her pain away.

Whether it was the blood loss from her scalp or her doctor’s oath kicking in, Sal realized that she just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t kill even scum like him.

That didn’t mean that the Crusader was necessarily going to like the alternative, though. “Where did the beast want you to lure Lionel—”

The kid snorted. “Who said it was me doing the luring?”

Locking her gaze, he took a step back, and then another as a vicious smile spread. “Or is it the beast drawing Tyr away, so I can have my way with you?”

Dear God, her command had never held him. He had stayed on purpose.

To delay them. To keep them here, rather than rushing to the docks.

“Do you know what the beast has taught me already? In just two days? I could pull a Vader and crush your neck with my mind.”

Sal tensed. The threat would have sounded absurd a day ago, or even a few hours ago, but now? Now that she was beginning to comprehend the interlacing of medicine and magic?

Did the Crusader have the knowledge that during a naturally occurring allergic reaction the throat could inflame so badly that victims sometimes choked to death before they could be treated? If the Crusader had learned such a thing…

“Swell,” he said forcibly.

She felt her throat constrict. Her glands enlarged. Soon, she was wheezing. Sal noted, however, that he waited until she was struggling to breathe before he dared step nearer to her.

“If Hing had just told me the formula, none of this would have come to pass.”

Between the head wound and lack of oxygen, Sal wasn’t sure how much longer she could stay conscious.

Then she heard a faint whisper in her mind.
Get down.

CHAPTER 87

Without hesitation, Sal dropped to her knees just as a horse jumped over her head, his hooves barely missing her wounded scalp. The steed, with Tyr mounted atop, landed just past her, then barreled straight into the Crusader.

The kid was knocked back on his ass.

Tyr reined the horse around, aiming at trampling her tormentor.

Sal scrambled to her feet, rushing to intercept. “Don’t!”

Barely in time, the horse sat back on his haunches to stop. “Stand aside, Salista.”

She shook her head. “Is the beast dead?” His features clouding over answered her question. “Then we need this guy alive.”

“But not whole,” Tyr growled.

The Crusader put his hands up, crawling backward. “Please, no. I’ll tell you anything. Whatever you want.”

Tyr hopped from the horse’s back and strode to the kid who had risen on shaky legs. Without warning, Tyr slapped the Crusader with a gauntleted hand. “That is for using an edict to such foul purpose.”

While his cheek flushed a bright red, the kid looked surprised that it hadn’t hurt worse. Then in a blur, Tyr backhanded the Crusader so hard that the kid was spun around before he fell to the ground. “And that is for daring to use such on her.”

Even though it felt damn good to see the punk brought so low, she laid a hand on Tyr’s arm. “We’ve got to get off the island.”

He shook his head. “From the highland, I spied the seafaring vessels leaving for the mainland.”

Which meant that they were trapped on the island. Trapped with the beast.

CHAPTER 88

“Then we’ve got to figure out the beast’s end game,” she stated.

Everyone turned to the Crusader. Even Lionel looked menacing as he stood over the downed man. Tyr took a step forward, but Sal shook her head. She could handle this.

“Tell me everything you know, or I swear to you I’ll let
Tyr
have his way with you.”

The Crusader blurted out, “He wants Lionel’s formula, and then he’s going back to his time to take over his world.”

“We knew that much, you idiot. The beast and Tyr had fought to a standstill several times over. Why did he think he could best Tyr? Why now? Why here?”

“I
told
you! He wanted to take you to force Tyr into an error.”

Sal studied the Crusader. He was holding back. Why?

“Do you really think the beast will save you?” The still night turned a shade of red. The beast approached. “You’ve failed. He’s more likely to eat you than rescue you from us.”

Lionel stepped next to Sal. “I don’t know about that. The beast has kept him alive for a reason.”

“Thank you!” the Crusader announced.

Hing ignored his friend. “We need to think scientifically Since Kurt’s useless when it comes to my research, what does the beast need with his particular skill set?”

Her mind sped through everything that had happened since arriving on the island. The answer was somewhere in that information. But she swayed as the bloody head wound took its toll. Her memory wasn’t what it should have been. “What were you doing up on the second floor?”

“It’s rumored that one of the inmates could open his cell door with his mind, so we had a bet whether I could get it to open with my gel, or he could make a conductive substrate with common compounds found in the prison.”

Sal’s brow crinkled together. “What’s his specialty?”

“Chemical engineer, with an emphasis on combustible flow.”

“The fireworks,” she groaned. “He’s going to use the explosives.”

“The fire in the sky? There is more?” Tyr asked, clearly feeling as anxious as she was at the prospect.

Remembering the brilliant display from earlier, and knowing that was only a fraction of the fireworks on the island, the beast’s claws were the least of their problems. “We’ve got to get off Alcatraz.”

Sal glared at the Crusader. “And
you
know how we can.”

CHAPTER 89

They ran along the edge of the island. Waves crashed just a few feet below them. How many prisoners had jumped into that rough surf, only to have their dead bodies float onto the San Franciscan shoreline? The currents in the bay were treacherous at best. And the sharks? They were always looking for an easy meal.

Even though Sal couldn’t see Tyr, she knew he was near, on horseback, protecting their flank. This side of the island was a jumble of buildings, some ancient, some more recent. They’d just run past an old water tower and followed the shoreline behind the burnt-out warden’s house.

A howl carried on the wind. The beast had found her scent again, which wasn’t too hard given the fact her scalp wound bled so profusely.

“How much farther?” she demanded.

The Crusader wheezed from the effort of their flight. “The skiff’s tied at the easternmost tip of the island.”

It was a calculated risk to trust the sniveling man’s help, but when the air turned crimson, he became much more forthcoming about how he had transported the beast over to Alcatraz on a small private boat. A boat that was still moored up as an escape contingency.

Suddenly, the land just stopped, and the ocean started. Lionel peered over the ledge. “It’s down there.”

Sal gave the signal. From between the guards’ barracks and the KP, Tyr galloped across a field of calla lilies to join them. It took only a few seconds for the horse to close the distance. He dismounted before the stallion came to a complete stop.

“Quickly.”

The Crusader was down the rocky slope in a heartbeat. Lionel wasn’t far behind. “Don’t even think about ditching us!”

Tyr offered his hand to steady her as she made her way down the slick rock. Sal took it, but instead of urging her forward, Tyr pulled her into his embrace. His hand smoothed back her snarled hair, tenderly cupping her head near the gash.

God only knew how hideous she looked, but Tyr moved in so close that his lips tempted hers. So close that she wanted him to fulfill their intimacy.

Instead, he leaned into her ear.

“Good-bye, Salista.”

CHAPTER 90

“What do you mean? We can get out of here.”

“No,” Tyr stated. “I run no more.”

“But—”

“Beyond my blade anointed with blood from the babe,” Tyr indicated the vial around his neck, with the blood he had drawn from her back at the hospital, his bandolier simply a sash of leather, absent of tokens. “This is the last of my horde.”

“What about your HeartsBlood?” she asked.

Clamping his jaw, Tyr tugged down his belt. Sal wasn’t sure what he was doing, then she saw the telltale pink of a recently sealed wound, a slash deep enough that it probably opened Tyr’s gut.

“It is gone. I must make my stand.”

Until now, Sal had imagined Tyr near immortal. In that coat of his, there were never-ending wonders. There wasn’t a situation from which Tyr couldn’t emerge victorious.

Now he was nothing more than a man armed with a very thin blade.

Somewhere along the line, he’d even lost the bone sword she’d given him.

He squeezed her shoulders. “Spirit the professor to safety, but school him in the dangers of his work.”

She reached out, but Tyr had already turned away. In a stride, he reached his horse. Without looking back, he mounted the steed, kicking it hard so that it leapt from a standstill to a gallop. Carrying Tyr away.

“Dr. Calon, hurry!” Lionel yelled, as she heard the boat’s engine sputter to life.

CHAPTER 91

The boat hit a wave, nearly capsizing the small craft, but powered through to hit another, then another. Sal’s fingers gripped the railing, her heart aching the farther they pulled from the island.

Sal tried to reassure herself that she had done the right thing. The thing Tyr had wanted. By leaving him, she could make sure Lionel was safe, and convince him that his research only led down a dark and dangerous path.

Equally important, she could make sure the Crusader was brought to justice. Most of his crimes were beyond the penal code, but his assault on her would be enough to put him behind bars for a while.

Lionel gripped the helm with one hand and offered her the boat’s first-aid kit with the other. Sal glared at the Crusader, making sure he was still lashed to the railing before she rose from her seat. The younger man cowed away. He’d better.

Sitting back down, Sal opened the kit and took out an antiseptic gauze. Carefully parting her bloody hair, she went to find the huge gash on the back of her head. But the more she searched, the less she found. The laceration had been at least four inches long. Her scalp had been flailed open. Sal had feared she had a hairline fracture to her skull, yet she couldn’t find a single defect.

Her head was completely healed. How could that be?

Then she remembered Tyr’s hand on her. His tender touch. He had been more than just caring, he had healed her.

Sal stood up so quickly that she rocked the boat.

“Hey! Watch out!” Lionel exclaimed as he steadied their path.

Tyr had lied. He hadn’t been completely out of HeartsBlood. In fact, he’d had enough to heal her. He’d used the last of it to save her.

“Turn around!” she shouted over the engine’s sound.

“Why?” the Crusader whined.

“Pull into the docks!”

To her surprise, Lionel smiled. “I was wondering when you’d figure out that you’d stopped bleeding.”