Yearnings: A Paranormal Romance Box Set (57 page)

“
Such as?”

Instead of answering, Tyr quickened the pace. It wasn’t until they were deep within the Black Death exhibit that he pulled them to a halt. He cast his glance around the room, and then tugged her toward the far corner.

“
Here,” he said as he shoved about seven million dollars’ worth of Dark Ages artifacts aside to clear an area in front of an enormous thirteenth-century stone cross. “Sit.”

With her bottom on the cool, marble floor, Sal leaned against a rough rock. Tyr took a small leather bag of powder and sprinkled it in a circle around her and the cross.

“
You must stay within the protectorate.”

Hugging her knees to her chest, Sal nodded.

Next, he uncorked the tiny vial that held the baby’s blood. Tyr tapped the glass, and a single drop of blood fell onto his sword. This time, instead of the blade turning a blinding white, the gray metal shimmered red.

The color of the beast.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 45

The commotion from the front of the exhibit abruptly stopped.

“
He comes,” Tyr said, locking her gaze. “No matter the cause, do not breach the circle.”

As the hunter strode off, her stomach twisted. Sal didn’t want to be the “clingy” girl, but she couldn’t let him leave without the tiniest bit of reassurance. “You won’t go far?”

Those blue eyes sobered to gray. “Only as far as needs be.”

She gave him a timid smile, which he didn’t return. Her heart thudded against her sternum as Tyr disappeared between a Black Death casket and a massive gargoyle.

The room warmed as the seconds ticked by. Just as the red gloom preceded the beast, so did his body heat. Crinkling her nose, Sal realized that his odor was a pretty good indicator, too. As the smell filled her nostrils, she knew the beast had entered the exhibit.

Which would be the greater attractant? Her essence, or Tyr’s blood?

Did the circle of powder only mask her scent, or was it a true barrier?

Her resolve was tested as she heard the beast’s harsh breath. He padded softly across the room, his nose down, sniffing along the floor. The beast found the pile of artifacts that Tyr had tossed aside. For an instant, Sal held out hope that they would hold his interest, then the beast snorted in disgust, moving onto the next, until there were no more.

When the beast almost bumped into a pedestal holding a carving of the Green Man, Sal realized the beast’s vision must still be compromised. He was relying solely on his sense of smell.

Tyr really did know his Praxis.

The beast raised his head, nose pointed up, taking in great long droughts of air. His thick mane turned in her direction. Digging fingernails into her jeans, Sal kept herself from screaming.

Tyr would come. He would slay the beast. He would save them both.

With each step forward the beast made, the more those words became a chant in her mind as hesitation left the beast’s stride. She couldn’t see his eyes through his shaggy mane, but it seemed he could now see her. Knew exactly where she was.

The thick stone kept her from backing away as the beast stalked forward. Sal thought her heart was going to betray her, it beat so loudly. Her muscles didn’t care about the cross behind her. They wanted to propel her up, to the left, to the right. Anywhere but here. Here in the beast’s path.

The foul creature stopped just short of the circle, but close enough that Sal could feel his hot breath on her hands. The beast lowered his head and tentatively sniffed at the chalky powder.

When nothing adverse happened, he leaned closer, bringing his nose almost down on her shoe. She could feel his nostrils flare in and out against her foot as he assessed the circle.

Clenching her eyes closed, Sal sat perfectly still. Not breathing. Not shivering. Not screaming.

Then the beast snorted. Her eyes snapped open to a plume of powder. Her only line of defense had gone up in smoke, quite literally. Whatever was left was barely a dusting of the protectorate. Would it be enough?

* * * * *

CHAPTER 46

Sal wasn’t sure how many seconds passed, but the beast refused to move on. Her head swam, as whatever oxygen she had in her bloodstream slowly dissipated. Soon, very soon, she would have to take a breath, an exhale that would carry her scent out and over that faded red circle.

Where was Tyr? Now would be an ideal moment for intervention of the red sword kind.

Instead the strained panic dragged on and on. Her brain screamed, and her pulse raced to keep up with the demand, but still the beast’s head stood in profile, sniffing, searching. Just when her body was about to take over, a loud
clang
echoed from the adjacent hall. The beast’s head snapped to the left.

Tyr to the rescue.

Knowing that her salvation was only steps away helped firm her lips.

No betraying breath would get past them.

A paw lifted.

Go left
, Sal begged.
Just go left
.

The beast should have gone left. His head was turned that way. His body leaned that way. Instead, the paw lashed out.

Oh, God! One of her sneakers had inched past the powder. Sal jerked it back, but not before a single claw punctured her leather shoe.

Sal squeaked as she plastered herself against the cross. Toes curled back inside her shoe. The beast hadn’t injured her, but certainly had a hold on her. He tugged her foot past the breach in the circle. Sal desperately tried to brace herself. Her fingers dug into the stone behind her. Anything to keep that foot on this side of the barrier.

All her effort was for naught. With a roar, the beast jerked her foot past the circle, dragging her entire calf out as well. Scrambling, Sal grabbed hold of the base of the cross and kicked as hard as she could, but there was no surprising the beast now.

If it hadn’t been for her hold on the stone, Sal would have been dragged completely over the circle’s edge. Summoning every ounce of epinephrine from her adrenal glands, Sal kicked outward. Not at the beast, but at her own foot. Catching the heel of the captured shoe with the toe of the free sneaker, she pushed as hard as she could. The shoe came off with a “pop,” sending the beast sprawling backward.

Sal scampered back inside the protective circle. The powder was smeared, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t fend the beast off long enough for Tyr to put his plan into motion.

He was nearby. She could feel it.

The creak of leather and the smell of blood.

Unfortunately, after a swish of his tail, the beast launched up and over the circle. Shocked that he moved so brazenly, Sal tried to dodge, but the cross blocked her escape. The beast slammed her against the stone. Wind knocked out of her, she twisted under his grip.

The beast pushed his full body atop her, straddling her like prey. She struggled fiercely, but ultimately in vain. He outweighed her by five hundred pounds. Sal turned her head away from the horror, smashing her cheek against the marble floor.

Pressed so close, the beast’s growl rumbled against her chest. There was a hunger there. Worse, it wasn’t necessarily for food.

To confirm her fear, the beast’s coarse tongue licked up her neck. Hot, fetid breath beat down on her skin. But still she didn’t look. To look up, to really look at him, would be the end of her.

Sirens sounded in the distance. They were thin and tinny, but they were sirens. Help was on its way. If she could just hold on. Just a few more seconds.

Then the beast used his paw to pierce her shoulder, just deep enough to elicit pain, but not damage the tendon.

It hurt. God it hurt. The injury might be minor, but the pain was major.

He was warning her. Demanding that she look up, or true pain was on the way, but she refused. The beast dug deeper.

What was this game? Why toy with her so?

As he hit tendon, Sal gave in and looked up.

From the tumble of his mane, the hair thinned across his broad nose.

His lips curled in a snarl. So close. Then the beast tilted its head and found her gaze.

Its azure eyes sparked with a palpable evil, but with something else as well. An intelligence.

Those eyes didn’t belong to an animal.

They were human.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 47

The beast had once been a man.

“
He … knoweth … my hunger.” Through wet fangs, it slurred.

Filled with such a panic, Sal flailed, not caring that her shoulder screeched in pain. She beat with her fists, kicked with her feet, but the beast just chuckled, deep and guttural, holding her firmly in place. Dear God, was this how Maria spent her last moments on earth?

It couldn’t be happening, but the beast used his nose to nudge her sweater away from her chest. He nuzzled the crook of her neck, breathing her in like a lover.

“
Just kill me,” Sal begged him. She had to say something, do something to make it stop.

She was helpless as the beast snagged a button on her shirt with a fang, snapping the fastener off, revealing cleavage. He licked again, slow and wet. It had been horrible enough when she thought the beast simply an animal. To think him a man? To think what he wanted to do to her?

As the beast nuzzled against her neck, his coarse mane rubbed against her cheek. Only it wasn’t a mane. So close, Sal realized it was dreadlocked hair. Human hair. Not just his eyes betrayed his heritage, making his violation all the worse.

Sal fought harder, desperate. If she couldn’t get away, she could at least make him angry enough to end this torture. Metal scraped her cheek. She couldn’t help but open her eyes. It was a beautifully engraved ballpoint pen, tangled within one of the beast’s dreadlocks. What did the beast need with a pen?

Then she recognized the item. It belonged to the Treasure Hunter. He’d been holding it in the picture. Focusing on the single dreadlock, Sal realized it was the beast’s bandolier. There was an earring. A money clip. Tokens from his victims. Besides her virtue, what would the beast take of hers? After she died, what would he add to his morbid collection?

The beast must have sensed her distraction, for he licked up her cheek as he forced her legs apart.

“
No!” she screamed, throwing her head back. Tears streaming down her face, she looked at the cross. Anything to not watch the beast pull her top down further. Vision streaked with moisture, it took a moment to realize there was a figure atop the cross, crouched, poised.

“
Tyr!”

Sword raised, he fell atop them. The beast tried to leap, but Tyr’s blade was too quick, nailing the creature between the shoulder blades. The beast roared, tossing her aside like a crumpled doll. Tyr went on the offensive. Hobbled, the beast could only swat weakly in defense.

Tyr went at the beast, but he used the hunter’s momentum against him, sidestepping at the last instant. Sapped by blood loss, Tyr stumbled forward, unable to keep his footing. The beast used the moment to pull the sword from its back.

Recovering faster than a human had a right to, Tyr dodged a swipe and turned to parry, but the beast leapt. Straight for a window. Three stories up.

Tyr dove to intercept, but the beast’s strength easily carried him over the hunter and through the tempered glass.

Let him fall
, Sal thought as the window shattered.

But Tyr raced over, peering down. “Damn you!”

She wasn’t sure which of them he cursed. Tyr went to climb over the ledge, but teetered wildly.

Shaken by Tyr’s show of weakness, Sal caught him before he fell. She had forgotten how badly injured Tyr had been back in the glade.

“
Sit down.”

Brusquely, he shoved aside her assistance. “I must follow.”

He might have done just that, had a cop car not skidded to a stop right beneath them. Sal searched the area surrounding the museum. No beast. Of course, the bastard could survive a three-floor fall.

Only then did she realize that beams of light crisscrossed throughout the museum, searching the building floor by floor.

They were trapped.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 48

Arm shaking, Tyr raised his scimitar. He meant to fight his way through the police. Sal might have believed that possible before his injuries, but now? With all those bodies downstairs, the cops were going to come up here in a hail of bullets. Not that Sal blamed them. It’s exactly what she would do if she could.