Chapter Twenty-one
“You’re a mess.” Baird looked over his half brother critically. Sylvan was in bad shape with wounds all over the place. Yet he refused to give up his precious burden—Sophia, still cradled in his arms. He’d insisted on tending her wounds immediately, even though there was still an urlich running around loose somewhere.
Baird waited patiently, keeping guard beside the pile of steaming corpses while Sylvan worked. Luckily, the Scourge bred animal was nowhere in sight. Good, let it go back to its master. Tell that bastard the AllFather, Kindred warriors aren’t that easy to kill.
Still, he wished Sylvan would agree to take Sophia back to the shuttle for first aid instead of performing it right here in the forest. It made a hell of a lot more tactical sense to get out into the sunlight and away from danger. But there was no arguing with his brother. Sylvan was intent on cleaning and sealing her wounds at once, which he did with long, careful strokes of his tongue.
At last he appeared satisfied. Looking up from Sophia, who was still unconcious, he nodded at Baird. “Let’s go.”
“Can you manage? Do you need me to get your med kit for you? I brought it with me just in case.”
“I’m fine.” Sylvan struggled to his feet, holding Sophia against his chest. He staggered for a moment before regaining his footing.
“Sylvan, Gods!” Baird put out a hand. “At least let me carry her. It’s still a long way to the ship.”
Sylvan, who had never even raised his voice to Baird before, pulled back his lips in a savage snarl. “Get back. She’s mine.”
Surprise and dismay made Baird take a step back. He stared at his brother. Sylvan’s pupils were a bloody crimson and his fangs were long and sharp—as lethal as daggers. The look on his face was pure threat—all emotion and no reason whatsoever.
“All right, fine.” Baird held out his hands, palms up in a gesture of peace. “Carry her yourself. But don’t blame me if you fall out from exhaustion or blood loss on the way. She wasn’t the only one who was wounded, Sylvan.”
“She’s the only one who matters.” Sylvan’s voice was guttural and deep—almost bestial.
Baird shook his head. His half brother had been gone for less than twenty-four Earth hours but in that short amount of time he appeared to have changed into a completely different person. What had happened to the slightly distant, coolly logical male Baird had always known? And who was this haggard, emotionally-ravaged creature with the wild, hungry look in his burning eyes? Even the rage couldn’t explain such changes. “Look,” he told Sylvan. “I understand, you just bonded her and you’re probably still feeling a little—”
“She’s not bonded to me.”
“What?” Baird frowned. “But I can smell your scent all over her.”
“Doesn’t matter. She’s not my bride.” Sylvan looked up, his eyes blazing. “Did you really think I would break my vow so easily?”
“Of course not. I know your word is good,” Baird said fiercely. “But even the Mother of All Life must understand when a male’s true bride comes into his life. After all, it’s she who puts a warrior and his mate together so—”
“It was the Mother of All Life who gave me these feelings for Sophia.” The harsh, growling voice became as soft as a caress when he spoke her name. “But only so I could protect her. I had to mask her scent with my own—there was no other way with the urlich tracking us. Once we get back to the Mother ship, though, everything will go back to normal. I’ll go back to normal.”
They were making their way toward the ship as they spoke, moving slowly, at Sylvan’s wounded pace. At his brother’s words, Baird actually stopped and turned to look the other warrior full in the face.
“You really believe that? You think your feelings for her—the need to claim her and bond her to you—will just disappear the minute we hit the ship?”
“They have to.” There was something like desperation in Sylvan’s eyes now. “Because I can’t have her. Can’t claim her, no matter how much I want to.”
Baird frowned. “Stop this foolishness, Sylvan. Go to the priestess in the sacred grove. Ask to be released of your vow.”
Sylvan shook his head. “I can’t.”
“You must!” Baird stabbed a finger at him. “Don’t let pride break you. There is no shame in bowing to your body’s demands—just look at you, you’re so deep in need for her you’re not even the same person. You look like hell, Brother. You can’t go on like this.”
“I have to.” Slowly, Sylvan began to march forward again. Baird could see his arms trembling with fatigue but he moved with a single-minded determination, a stubbornness that trumped his wounds and weariness. “I have to,” he said again. “Have to go on, no matter what. Go on without her.”
“Why?” Baird demanded. “You’ve found the woman you love—now claim her before the need inside you eats you alive.”
Sylvan looked at him and there was such a depth of pain in his eyes that Baird ached to see it. “I can’t claim her because she doesn’t want me. She’s rejected my bite over and over again.”
“Gods.” Baird didn’t know what to say. The hope, the need, the desire…and then the rejection. The pain worse than death. It’s Feenah all over again. But Sylvan had never been like this the one time he’d tried and failed to call a bride before. He’d never looked this bad, this ragged. It was clear the need to claim Sophia was riding him like a cruel master, spurring him to take her, to bond her. And it was just as clear that Sylvan was determined to fight it. Baird knew his brother—a more honorable male did not exist. So it was no wonder Sylvan refused to bond her against her will.
Baird looked at the other male with fresh compassion. How well he remembered the pain he’d felt when Olivia had refused to let him mark her and bond her! Her objection had been in leaving everyone she loved back on Earth. Sophia could have no such reason since her beloved twin sister was already on the Kindred ship. Yet it was clear that she had rejected Sylvan in no uncertain terms. Why? He wanted to ask more, to try to get to the root of the problem, but it was clear Sylvan was in no mood to discuss his pain. The fact that he had revealed it at all instead of keeping it hidden—which was his usual way—said a great deal about how much he was hurting.
“So you see,” Sylvan continued, breaking his train of thought. “I have to believe things will go back to normal once we reach the ship. It’s either that…or madness.” He gave Baird a hollow-eyed glance that said he wasn’t far from that eventuality. Indeed, he looked like a male standing right on the edge and looking down into the abyss.
“Then I pray you’re right, Brother,” Baird said softly. He dared to reach out and squeeze the other male’s uninjured shoulder, trying to convey his sympathy in the simple touch.
Sylvan nodded, a determined look on his face. “When we reach the ship this will all be over. Until then Sophia is still mine to protect and cherish.”
“I understand,” Baird said, nodding. “Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon and your burden will be lifted.” I hope.
Sylvan shook his head. “I don’t want to go straight back to the ship. There’s something I have to do—an errand I have to run—in Sophia’s home town. Can we stop by Tampa before we go back?”
“Well, I am here on a special dispensation from the High Council,” Baird said. “They didn’t order me to come right back and I know there are a few things Olivia would like to have from her old home. So I don’t see why not.”
“Good.” Sylvan nodded with a finality that was somehow troubling. “And don’t worry, I won’t take long.”
“You’d better not,” Baird said, trying to joke. “Or Olivia will skin us both alive. She said she wants us home in time for late-day meal or we’ll get nothing but Grieza worms for a month.”
Sylvan nodded but didn’t smile. Clearly he was deep in thought. Was he contemplating his errand, whatever it was? Or wondering why the woman he wanted so desperately didn’t want him?
Baird felt a shiver of unease pass over him but there was nothing more he could do or say. Sylvan was past any help but that of the Mother of All Life…or Sophia. The human female he carried so tenderly in his arms held the key to healing his heart…or destroying it forever. Baird only hoped she would be gentle.
* * * * *
Sophia was having the oddest dream.
It was about Sylvan. But not the cool, logical Sylvan she’d known before their stay together at the cabin. No, this Sylvan was different—as different as the blazing dessert sun is from an icy glacier. He no longer looked cool and collected. In fact, he looked terrible—weary and wounded and his eyes were wild. But there seemed to be something he had to do and he was determined to do it.
Sophie watched as he took a quick shower in her town house (What was he doing there?) and dried himself with her favorite sunflower beach towel. His strong body was covered with cruel markings—wounds from the fight with the urlich, she was sure. They appeared to be healing already but there were going to be scars—a lot of them.
Watching the big warrior, the weary way he moved and the terrible wounds that he’d gotten for her sake, Sophia ached for him. His pain was almost palpable, even in her dream. She wished she could give him a massage, ease some of the tension that was knotted in those broad shoulders. Then she would have him lie down on the couch (if he would fit) and make him chicken noodle soup and let him watch bad daytime TV until he couldn’t take any more. That was the way her mom had always treated any sickness from the common cold to affairs of the heart and it was what Sophie wanted to do for Sylvan now.
Wish I could take care of you, she thought longingly. Wipe that grim look off your face and see you flash that little one-sided smile of yours. Maybe even hear you laugh. Had she ever heard him laugh? Sophie didn’t think so. I bet with that deep baritone voice of his it sounds great. Wish I could hear it, just once.
Unable to help herself, she reached out to him…and realized afresh that she was locked in a dream—there was nothing she could do but watch.
Sylvan finished drying himself and then he put back on his black pants and boots. He slipped on a red shirt he must have borrowed from Baird—it was the color of the Beast Kindred, not the pale blue of the Tranq Kindred—and went out.
She watched, a silent, invisible passenger, as he took the small silver car she knew must be a transformed Kindred shuttle, down to South Tampa. This was the end of town where the very rich lived. Old money had built a row of fabulous mansions on Bayshore Boulevard—the long, palm tree lined road that stretched for miles along Tampa Bay.
Sylvan obviously wasn’t looking for a walk on the beach and he showed no interest in the affluence around him. He kept his eyes straight ahead and took several turns until he pulled into a pristine lot filled with new cars.
Sophie didn’t know a whole lot about motor vehicles—to her it was enough if a car got from A to B and had good cold AC—a must in the hot and humid Tampa summers. But even to her untrained eyes, the cars on this lot looked high end. Not to mention very, very expensive.
Sylvan unfolded himself from the silver car—the Kindred shuttles really got small and unobtrusive in their Earth-bound state—and walked straight up to the glass and metal dealership that dominated the lot.
The girl at the front desk, who had been playing in a bored sort of way with her cell phone, perked up immediately at the sight of Sylvan. She jumped up and ran around to talk to him, batting her eyelashes at him and jutting her hip to one side as though trying to show off how tight her short black skirt was. She was thin—a lot thinner than Sophie—and had lush blonde hair that was done in a fashionable retro-wave. Sophie felt a flash of jealousy zip through her like lightning as the girl stroked Sylvan’s arm flirtatiously.
But why should I be jealous? He’s not really mine, after all. And even if he was, for a short time in the cabin, he won’t be as soon as we get back to the ship. Still, she couldn’t help wanting to slap the blonde girl who was fawning so disgustingly over the big warrior.
Sylvan, however, seemed to notice the flirty receptionist about as much as a tiger on the prowl notices a fly. He was scanning the expansive showroom floor, obviously looking for something… Or someone. Sophie had an uneasy feeling but she tried to push it away. Maybe he’d decided to stay on Earth for awhile and he wanted a new car? But that didn’t make any sense. The Kindred were all stationed aboard the Mother ship with no exceptions. They only came down to the planet’s surface to claim their brides. So why was he here?
Suddenly she had a moment of panic. Could it be that Sylvan had found his true bride? Was it some girl working here at this swanky car dealership? Was he going to claim her and take her back to the ship?
It’s probably some girl who isn’t afraid of him—who isn’t afraid to let him bite her, whispered a spiteful little voice in Sophie’s brain. You can bet your boots that blondie there at reception would open a vein in ten seconds flat if he gave her so much as the time of day. Any girl would—just look at him.
She watched with new eyes as Sylvan continued his search. No doubt about it—he was leading man material all the way. Despite the tired lines around his pale blue eyes, his features were handsome and strong. Straight nose, square jaw, cheekbones like granite. Not to mention the way he literally overshadowed every other man in the room with his large, muscular frame—even the tall, dark haired salesman who was coming over to shake his hand.
Sophie frowned. There was something about that salesman. He looked familiar. For a human man he was pretty tall—six foot three or four at least—and he had broad shoulders. Despite his size, though, or maybe because of it, he was running to fat. The beginning of a very impressive beer belly was stretching the fabric of his Egyptian linen shirt and his dark curly hair was thinning on top. In another five years he’d probably be completely bald but his hair looked like it used to be really thick. Like something a girl would dream of running her hands through while he kissed her.
I used to daydream like that, whispered a voice in her head—the voice of memory. Used to sit in homeroom right behind him and imagine what it would be like to reach out and touch those dark curls just once. And then on that night, that awful night, I had both hands buried in them. But I was yanking and pulling, begging him to get off me, to leave me alone…Oh God!
The salesman was Burke Simpson. He had to be. Despite the beer gut and thinning hair, Sophie realized she would know him anywhere. Because he was the man she wanted to avoid most in the entire world.
And now she was seeing him again. Seeing him up close and in person—or so it seemed in her dream—and she couldn’t get away from his hateful grin or those smirking, muddy brown eyes. Eyes she remembered staring down into hers while he ripped her dress and told her to “Just lay still, baby, and it’ll all be over in a minute.”
Sophie recoiled in horror, feeling like she was reliving the traumatic night all over again. She didn’t want to be this close to Burke Simpson—never wanted to be anywhere remotely near him again.
Have to get away! The part of her that recognized she was dreaming fought to wake up—to escape from her attacker. But she couldn’t go—she was a captive audience and it seemed that the strange scene playing out before her wasn’t done yet.
Sylvan took Burke’s hand and nodded politely as the other man spoke. Suddenly it was as though someone had turned up the volume and Sophie could hear everything he was saying.
“…just got these new models in last week,” he said, nodding at a sleek red sports car with a shiny silver jaguar hood ornament. “Now don’t let this sexy little number fool you—I can see what a big guy you are but she’s got a lotta leg room. Not to mention a trunk you could hide a body in.”
“I see.” Sylvan’s deep voice was neutral but the pupils of his eyes had begun to go red—as red as the gleaming car Burke was trying to sell him. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” he said before Burke could go further into his pitch. “But can we go someplace private?”
“Oh, so you want to make a deal?” Burke grinned eagerly.
“Something like that.” Sylvan’s voice was quiet and cool but there was a dangerous glint in those red eyes. A look that made Sophie’s stomach knot with anxiety. Oh God, she really didn’t want to be seeing this.
Burke led Sylvan to the back of the large showroom and into a small private room with a large glass window that faced the showroom. There was a nice wooden desk with several cushy chairs on either side of it. Clearly this was where he took clients to close negotiations.
“All right now.” He closed the door and turned to Sylvan, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s talk. Depending on your credit history I think I can get you—”
“Weren’t you the captain of the Hillsborough High Mustangs?” Sylvan asked, raising an eyebrow.
How does he know that? Sophie wondered, feeling ill. I never told him our school mascot. Oh my God, make it stop. Please just make it stop and let me wake up.
But it didn’t stop and she still couldn’t shake the dream.
Burke puffed his chest out with pride. “Well, yeah, I was. I don’t remember you, though—did you play for another school? Lemme guess—offensive tackle,
right? Man, you’ve sure got the size for it.”
“Actually, I’m not human.” Sylvan bared his teeth in a ferocious smile and Sophie could see that his fangs were fully extended. Long and sharp and deadly, they proved his point more eloquently than any words could have.
For the first time Burke really seemed to see him. And what he saw obviously made him uneasy. “Oh, uh—a Kindred, right? I guess that would explain your eyes and those…” He gestured vaguely at Sylvan’s fangs. “Well that’s cool, man. We’re all really grateful to you guys. I mean, you saved our asses, right?” He tried to laugh but the sound died in his throat as Sylvan continued to stare at him.
“Do you know a girl named Sophia Waterhouse?” he asked.
Burke appeared to be pretending to think. “Uh…Waterhouse?” He shook his head. “Nope. No, sorry—doesn’t ring a bell.”
“That’s strange.” Sylvan frowned. “I was under the impression that you were in the same class together.”
“Uh, well, I mean, HH is a big school.” Burke was sweating freely now, the crisp collar of his linen shirt turning limp despite the excellent air conditioning. “I can’t remember everybody in my home room class—let alone my graduating class. You know?”
“Think hard,” Sylvan said. “She’s about this tall…” He held out a hand about the level of his chest. “She has long dark brown hair that has red highlights in the sunlight and large dark green eyes. She is surpassingly lovely.”
“Well, when you describe her like that…” Burke frowned. “Shy little thing? Has a twin sister that’s kind of mouthy and they hung around with a chunky chick with red hair?”
Sylvan smiled grimly. “Yes, that’s her.”
Burke grinned back. “Wait a minute, I get it! You’re thinking about calling her up in the draft as your, uh, bride, right? And you want to dig up a little dirt on her first—find out what she’s like before you take the plunge. Well, lemme tell you, she’s a lot wilder in the sack than she looks.” He winked at Sylvan and elbowed him, grinning. “Know what I mean?”
“No.” Sylvan’s voice was dangerously soft. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Sophie, still watching the scene from the unbreakable prison of her dream, winced. Burke was either too stupid or too conceited to see the danger he was in.
“Well, she acts like she’s scared of her own shadow, ya know? But pay her a little attention and watch out! She’s a hell cat. I mean, I took her to prom and she left some marks on me after the dance—hell, I’ve still got the scars to prove it.” He laughed and pounded Sylvan on the back. “Night to remember, right?”
“From what I was told, the only marks she left on you were defensive wounds. When she fought to get you off her.”
“Well, I mean, you know…” Burke shrugged, beginning to look uncomfortable again. “Lots of girls like to put up a fight, right? Just makes it that much more exciting.”
Sylvan raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you saying you’ve done this more than once? You make a habit of luring innocent, unprotected females out with you for the sole purpose of raping them?”
“Whoa—hey. Hey now, man…” Burke held up his hands and glanced through the window at the showroom where the customers and other salespeople were wandering around. “That’s a pretty ugly word to be throwing around.”
“It’s a very ugly act.” Sylvan’s voice had deepened to a growl. “Do you deny that you did it to Sophia?”
“It was nothing like that,” Burke protested. “I mean, just a little slap and tickle, right? And she loved every minute of it.” He tried to laugh but the sound died in his throat as Sylvan continued to stare at him.
“You raped and brutalized the woman I love.” Sylvan’s hands curled into fists. “Then you threatened to come to her house and do it again if she dared to report your actions.” He took a step closer to Burke who had begun to sidle away.
“I didn’t mean any of it.” Burke’s voice had gone high and thin. “I mean, I had a scholarship all lined up that I had to protect. I couldn’t let some mousy little bitch ruin my entire future—she wasn’t even that good a fuck, you know?”
“No, I don’t know,” Sylvan said, his voice low and threatening. “Because unlike you, I am not a rapist—I don’t take women against their will. And from now on, you won’t either.”
He pulled something out of the pocket of his black flight pants—a strange looking metal device that fit neatly into the palm of his large hand.
“What the fuck is that?” Burke looked at the small device uneasily. “Some kind of gun or bomb or something?”
“No,” Sylvan said simply. He bent his attention to the device which he appeared to be calibrating in some way.
“Okay, I get what you’re doing here—you want to warn me off your girl. No problem, man.” Burke held up his hands again and began to back away. “Listen, I haven’t even seen her since high school. In fact, I haven’t even thought of her in years.”
“She has thought often of you, though,” Sylvan said quietly. “Often enough to keep her from having another relationship since the night you raped her. Often enough to keep her from trusting another male—even one who would rather die than hurt her.”
“What do you want me to do, offer to pay for her therapy?” Burke demanded. “Look, let’s just let bygones be bygones. Just put that…” He gestured at the device. “Whatever it is away and we’ll forget all about it. To show you my heart’s in the right place, I’ll give you a really sweet deal on that little beauty.” He nodded through the window at the red sports car.
“I’m not interested in your shiny little toys.” Sylvan took another step forward until he was looming over Burke and the other man had to look up to see him. “I’m interested in vengeance.”
“In what?” Burke clearly couldn’t believe the situation he was in. “Man, you’re crazy. All that crap with Sophie was years ago!”
“And you’ll have years to think about the consequences of your actions. The rest of your life in fact.” Sylvan held out his hand, pointing the silver device at Burke’s crotch. There was a low humming sound and a beam of brilliant light shot out and burned a hole in the expensive dress slacks, right between Burke’s legs.
“Holy shit!” Burke looked down at the smoking hole. His genitals were clearly visible, dangling like defenseless hairy fruit outside his ruined pants. The sight made Sophie feel like she was going to throw up. “You son of a bitch!” He looked up at Sylvan angrily while trying to cover himself with one hand. “You know how much these pants cost me? That’s not funny.”
“It’s not meant to be,” Sylvan told him. “You asked me if this device was a bomb or a gun—it’s neither. It’s medical equipment. We use it for burning off unwanted growths.”
“Unwanted growths?” Burke looked at him with wide eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“I think you know.” Though his eyes were glowing red, Sylvan’s voice was distant…detached. “You’d better move your hand if you want to keep it,” he advised.
“What?” Burke frowned, obviously still not getting it.
“All right, I’ll move it for you.” Reaching out, Sylvan took him by the wrist almost gently. But it was clear when Burke tried to pull away that his grip was like iron.
“Hey!” Burke tried again to yank his hand away unsuccessfully. “I—”
Before he could say anything else, another short brilliant burst of light came from the device in Sylvan’s hand. There was a puff of black smoke from Burke’s crotch and when it cleared there was…
Nothing. Oh my God, it’s gone. It’s all gone. Sophie couldn’t believe her eyes. Burke’s penis and testicles, which had been dangling outside his scorched slacks, were missing. Between his legs there was nothing but a shiny reddish scar, like a burn, long healed.
Burke groped with his free hand between his legs, as though he couldn’t believe his eyes. “Where is it? Goddamnit—what did you do to my dick? What did you do to me?”
“Made certain you’ll never be able to hurt another female again,” Sylvan said grimly. He was still holding Burke’s arm tightly in one hand and he pocketed the small silver device with the other. “A painless procedure, unfortunately, but necessary.”
“What?” Burke looked at him, his eyes huge with fear and disbelief. “What did you say?”
Sylvan ignored the questions. “Now, Sophia tells me you marked her when she was struggling to get away from you.” He pushed up the cuff of Burke’s white linen shirt, revealing a tan wrist covered in black, wiry hair. “Just about here .”
Oh God. Sophie wished she could close her eyes. Inside her the fear she’d felt that night—the desperation to get away before he could do it again—was welling up all over again. “Let me go,” she heard herself pleading. “Please, Burke, just let me go now.”
“Marked her? What are you talking about?” Burke’s voice jerked her back to the present. He still looked shaky with shock. “Is this some kind of sick joke? You didn’t really, uh, burn off my dick, did you? I mean I didn’t feel a thing but where the hell is it?”
“Gone,” Sylvan told him. “Permanently. You didn’t feel anything because it is, as I said, a painless procedure. But I think we can fix that—you deserve some pain for what you did to Sophia.”
Burke looked at him with wild eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re kidding, right? This is just some kind of prank.”
“No joke,” Sylvan assured him. “Don’t worry.” He was still holding Burke by the wrist and he squeezed it, his large knuckles turning white with pressure. “I’m not going to kill you. I swore not to.”
“Then let me go, man!” Burke spat. “I have to go in the bathroom. Have to figure out what the hell you did to me. God, nobody told me you Kindred were such freaks!”
“We’re simply very protective of our females. And we never, never take what isn’t offered freely. No matter how desperately we may want to,” Sylvan told him, squeezing harder.
Burke glared at the big warrior. “Look man, you better let me go or you’re going to be sorry.”
Sylvan shook his head and didn’t loosen his grip a bit. “I don’t think so. As I was saying, you bruised her—sprained her wrist when you raped her.” Despite his fearsome appearance, Sylvan’s voice was curiously gentle. “Isn’t that true?”
“I don’t know.” Burke was still looking down at the scar where his genitals had been. Clearly the fact that he had just been permanently neutered still hadn’t sunk in. “I guess so, maybe.”
“Then consider this retribution.”
Sophie knew what was coming next and she wanted to look away in the worst way. But in the timeless way of dreams, her eyes were glued to the action and she found she couldn’t move. Please, God, I don’t want to see! Don’t want to know. Don’t want to remember…
But she did see as Sylvan gripped the other man’s beefy forearm and snapped it like a twig.
She heard it too. There was a muffled crack , followed by a sickening, meaty tearing sound. With a spray of blood, two sharp red points came bursting through the black wiry hair and tan skin of Burke’s arm. Sharp red points with bleeding, jagged ends.
Bones, Sophie thought, feeling like she was going to be sick. Oh my God, those are his bones …
Burke howled like a wounded animal, his dick, or lack thereof, forgotten for the moment. The people milling around in the showroom looked up uncertainly, clearly not understanding what was happening in the small private consulting room.
“My arm! Oh my fucking God, you broke my arm,” Burke babbled.
“ Hold still you little bitch,” Sophie heard him say inside her head. “Hold still if you don’t want me to break your fucking arm.”
“ No, Burke, please let me go! Please don’t!”
She felt like her head was going to explode. The past and the present were merging, blending in a giddy, nauseating whirl of images and emotions that made her feel like she was going crazy. No, she thought. No, no, no, no, no… And then she was watching the scene at the car dealership again.
Sylvan dropped the limply dangling hand and took the other man by the chin. He stared into Burke’s eyes, wide with pain and fear. “Think about this the next time you’re tempted to hurt a female. Any female,” he growled. “And I don’t care how many years ago your encounter with Sophia was—if you ever come near her again, I’ll kill you. Slowly.”
Then he turned and walked casually away, leaving the dealership as quietly as he’d entered it.