Saber

 

I rode alone to the house down in the valley. The weather had turned to shit almost as soon as I left, but I didn’t let it detour me or slow me down. I had to get there. God knew how long Thomas had already had Renee. I trusted Darren to raise the alarm—and Morgan, too—which made me feel confident that the other Fallen Souls would be there soon.

 

You’re not a Soul anymore, I reminded myself grimly, a seed of doubt wiggling its way into my mind.

 

I told myself that it didn’t matter. For Renee’s sake, they’d be there anyway.

 

People were driving for shit because the roads were wet and people never could seem to remember how to drive in the rain, despite having to do it time and again. I had to swerve several times to avoid being hit and finally I said screw it after waiting ten minutes in traffic that didn’t seem ready to move. So I split the lanes and gunned it. I sped through the standstill traffic, weaving through the cars and dodging as they tried to switch lanes, until I found the exit. I got over in a hurry, cars honking their horns at me, and prayed that I’d made good enough time.

 

I prayed that I wasn’t too late.

 

The house looked like it was falling apart. Shutters blew in the wind, threatening to come off or maybe break the windows they were trying to protect. The gutter was utterly worthless and the paint was peeling off in long strips to reveal a mottled white color beneath the dingy yellow.

 

All of that was not encouraging. It made the place look abandoned, which meant there was a good chance that Renee’s stalker wasn’t living here—and if he wasn’t living here, would he take her to this place?

 

I didn’t know.

 

I was beginning to second guess myself, ready to call the guys and tell them to go to the other location to check for her, when I caught a glint of white in the rain. It was a car parked around the corner of the house covered by the low hanging branches of a tree weighed down by rainwater and the weeds that had tried to consume the yard.

 

In the process of dialing Darren again, I went over to the car to check it out. It, unlike the rest of this mess of a home, looked new and relatively well taken care of. No chipping paint, no rusted metal. When I got close enough to see the license plate, I knew.

 

“Renee.”

 

It was one of her cars. Darren picked up the phone then and I told him in a serious, grim voice, “Renee’s here. The residential address, the house. The one in the valley.”

 

“Wait for backup,” Darren told me urgently, as though sensing what I was about to do. “They’re on their way. Give ’em ten minutes!”

 

But I was already ending the call. Ten minutes was a short amount of time under normal circumstances, but these circumstances were anything but normal. Renee was here, inside that dingy old house, held captive by her stalker.

 

God knew how long he’d had her, what he was doing to her.

 

No, I couldn’t wait ten minutes.

 

Not bothering to hide my motorcycle or to wait for the others to arrive, I headed to the house, swallowing down my nerves. She’s fine, she’s fine, I told myself over and over again. I had to believe it, because no other option was acceptable.

 

I slunk around the house, drenched by the rain. I tried to see inside, but the windows were either boarded up or so damn grimy that I couldn’t see through them. Deciding that going around the back was my best chance for a surprise attack, I headed around the house following the trail of the car.

 

I was going to keep going until I rounded the back, but something just on the other side of the car caught my eye, forcing me to stop.

 

Two huge, heavy doors built into the ground.

 

A storm cellar.

 

And unlike everything else on the house, these looked fairly new and maintained. Like someone was actually using them.

 

Sucking in a quick breath, I screwed up my courage and shoved my foot through the door, breaking it into pieces and revealing a set of stairs that went down to the cellar. I hurried down them and found that there was a second door at the bottom of the stairs that was built in like any normal door, theoretically leading to the cellar beyond.

 

I reached for the door, moving slowly, listening for any sounds that might tell me I was going in the right direction—difficult given the constant pounding of rain overhead—but when I finally heard something it kicked me into overdrive.

 

Renee was screaming.

 

I tried the knob, but of course it was locked. Throwing my shoulder into it, I had to crush myself against it several times before it burst open to reveal a room colored in white and baby pink. And lying on the bed with her shirt torn all to shreds, her bra half tugged down, was Renee. She was crying and struggling, the redheaded man that I now knew as Thomas York was situated on top of her, clawing at her clothing desperately.

 

“Mine, mine,” he kept saying over and over again, not even seeming to notice me.

 

I roared, a sound of pure rage as I rushed him. I grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked him away from her, throwing him to the ground beside the bed. Setting him harshly on the ground, my fist connected with his face until I felt something break—my hand or his face, either way.

 

He’d stopped moving, but I pulled back to punch him again—blood was spurting from his nose—but then I heard her sob.

 

“Oh, God!”

 

I released the man, letting him slump back to the floor into unconsciousness. Maybe he was dead; it would suit me to the ground. Still on the bed was Renee. She was clutching her arms over her chest, trying to cover herself up, tears marring her pretty face. The tatters of her shirt clung to her arms and shoulders, telling me it had probably been long sleeves.

 

She stared at me with blue eyes that were huge, looking like I was the best thing that had ever happened to her. I couldn’t leave her sitting like that. I ran to her, scooping her up into my arms and holding her against me like she was everything. Like she was the only thing. She sobbed into my shoulder and I couldn’t even shush her, I was just so relieved.

 

I held her to me, thankful thank I’d gotten there in time, thankful that Thomas was dealt with. Even if he was dead on the floor, I would deal with whatever consequences that entailed.

 

“Saber! No!” Renee cried suddenly, using her bodyweight and gravity to pull me down on top of her. I was startled and didn’t know what to make of it, but then I heard the crack of a gun. A bullet lodged itself in the wall at the same level as where my head would have been a second earlier.

 

“She’s mine!” screamed the lunatic holding the gun.

 

I turned to see him. I’d thought I’d put him down, but Thomas had managed to pull himself back up, his face looking like a bloody piece of hamburger meat, but he’d done it. He was aiming the gun at me still, his eyes wide, his hand shaking. I saw him squeeze the trigger before I could react and did my best to cover Renee with my own body, the only thing I could think to do. She screamed as he yanked on the trigger.

 

But nothing happened.

 

Surprised, I looked back to him and saw that he was slapping at the gun as though something was wrong. It’s jammed, I realized and took that moment to leap up from the bed, pushing to get to Thomas.

 

His eyes widened further until they looked ready to spring from his sockets. He hadn’t planned for this, apparently, because he stumbled back at my charge. He nearly tripped as he stumbled out the door, but he managed to slam it in my face before I could reach it.

 

“Damnit!” I cried out angrily, trying the knob and shoving at the door. It budged slightly, but wouldn’t one hundred percent give.

 

“This isn’t over!” I heard a muffled sound coming through the door. It sounded like it was farther away and through the slight crack I’d made in the door, I saw that he was at the top of the stairs, still fiddling with his gun. He was pale and wild looking, shaking all over and I didn’t think it was from the rain.

 

I looked back at Renee, her terrified face reminding me that I had a decision now. Get Renee out of here or go after Thomas.

 

I can’t let Thomas escape. He’ll only come after her again, I realized. But I needed to get Renee out of here, too.

 

“Go, get out of here. Get to your car, or take my bike, and go. The others will be here soon, but I can’t let him get away. You know he won’t stop, not now.”

 

She worried at her lower lip, reminding me of every vulnerable moment she’d shown me, of every smiling moment and happy one. Of every time she had shown me the real woman beneath the makeup and the money. She was wonderful in ways I had never imagined and even if this was the last moment I would get with her, I’d be complete for at least having known her.

 

“I don’t want to go without you,” she murmured. “Please, let’s get out of here together. Come with me!”

 

But I shook my head firmly. I knew I was right and somewhere deep inside, she did, too. My heart ached at the knowledge that she wanted me with her, even though I knew it was because she was terrified and I’d just saved her. All the same, I hoped. Even though I had ended it, even though Ryder had forbidden me from seeking her out, and reminded me why, I hoped that she still wanted me.

 

It was a foolish want, but it didn’t change what I was inside.

 

“Renee, I can’t. You have to go. I’ll take care of Thomas once and for all.”

 

Then I left her before she could plead with me any longer with those huge eyes. I raced out the door and up the stairs, checking at the top to make sure that he wasn’t there waiting to blindside me. The gun had failed once, but there was every possibility that he had fixed whatever had jammed it, or that he’d stashed another one somewhere. But he wasn’t there waiting. It gave me some confidence that maybe he hadn’t gotten the gun to work. Maybe he was unarmed. Or maybe he was setting a trap.

 

Still, I’d find him and Renee had to get the hell out of here. I called back down to her, who was waiting, terrified, at the door, to let her know that it was safe—or as safe as it could be.

 

She came up the stairs behind me and I urged her to the car. “Go now. I’ll make sure he doesn’t come after you,” I promised.

 

She bit her lower lip and clearly didn’t want to leave me, but nodded all the same. “Please be careful,” she murmured, then reached up and sealed her lips to mine, a kiss that told me she felt things for me, deep and unchangeable things.

 

Then she broke it and turned away, hurrying to her car. I watched her until she reached the door and slid in, then I took off for the house. I raced in through the front where the door was now banging open against the rain and the wind.

 

It hadn’t been open before.

 

Moving slowly and steadily, I went inside in search of Thomas. The place was dark, making it difficult to make things out. Definitely not something in my favor. If I wasn’t careful, Thomas would catch me by surprise.

 

I headed deeper into the house, my eyes adjusting as much as they would to the darkness. I searched for Thomas, but didn’t see much of anything. I cursed myself silently for losing him. This had to end tonight. I wouldn’t leave home without finding him, damnit.

 

Where is the bastard?

 

I made it past the foyer and into the adjacent kitchen. It, too, was empty. As I continued on through the kitchen, moving towards the back portion of the house, I heard the door slam in the front. I whirled around towards it.

 

Had he doubled back to try and leave through the front? Or had he gone after Renee?

 

I hurried around back to the front room, worried all of a sudden that Renee hadn’t made it far enough yet. That she’d gotten stuck in the mud…that she hadn’t listened to me at all.

 

I came through the doorway from the kitchen into the front foyer to find that Renee was there, sopping wet, half dressed, and searching the house frantically. Her eyes lighted on me and she made to move towards me. “Saber!” she called out. “I couldn’t leave you!”

 

There should have been plenty of time for me to reach her and her to reach me, but everything happened at once. Thomas appeared out of nowhere, barreling into Renee. She slammed harshly onto the ground, immediately scrambling to try and get away from him.

 

I saw his gun again and all hope that it wasn’t working still or that it was out of ammunition or that he would somehow fuck up this shot, too, left me in a terrible whoosh of fear. He was aiming for Renee.

 

“You were supposed to love me!” he screamed at her, gun shaking in his hand as he aimed it at her head. “You were supposed to be mine!”

 

There were tears streaking down her face as she tried to scoot back on the floor only to have her back hit the far wall. Her hair was still damp, hanging in clumps about her face and shoulders and she was only wearing her bra, her shirt in tatters around her breasts. She was utterly terrified and as of that moment right then and there, she had nowhere else to go.

 

“Please,” she begged him. “Don’t do this!

 

But he wasn’t listening. I saw his finger squeezing the trigger. I saw all of this in slow motion as though someone had stopped time to little more than a trickle. It seemed like I had eternity to just walk over there and stop the whole thing, except that I, too, was moving through time like an ocean of molasses.

 

I reached for her, lunging as I tried desperately to put myself in front of her.

 

The gun went off, a loud shock of sound in the otherwise quiet house. It sparked, giving us just a blink of light, like lightning and thunder all at once, and then there was just smoke and the rain jittering along the rooftop and against the windows. I felt a sharp spike of pain. That was when time seemed to snap back. Everything moved quickly from then on.

 

I slammed to the ground harshly, clutching at my shoulder where pain was bleating from it, pumping like blood between my fingers. I couldn’t say if I cried out or not, but I remembered how hard it was to breathe all of a sudden.

 

From somewhere nearby, I heard Renee scream even though my ears were still ringing with the echoes of the gunshot.

 

I felt her cool, delicate hands fluttering over me, touching my face and my hands, everywhere they could. My name fell from her lips a thousand times, watery and desperate. I tried to answer her, but wasn’t sure if I managed it. I did see Thomas in the background. He had his gun still in hand and he looked a little shocked, like maybe he’d never shot someone before.

 

He shot me, I thought strangely, detached and unafraid, though I knew I should have been.

 

I saw him shift the gun upwards again, however, that murderous look in his eye all over again. I realized that he was pointing it at Renee again and I tried to pull her to me, tried to roll us over so that my back was to the gun and she was nearer the wall. Where I might block her from another shot.

 

But I was too weak. My body was trembling, in shock, and I felt dizzy and nauseous. I couldn’t make myself move. I realized how badly I must have been bleeding, the red color smeared across Renee’s smooth skin and slipping between my own fingers. She was crying, screaming, begging me to get up, but I just wanted to tell her to get out of there.

 

I heard another shot go off and waited with baited breath for her to slump against my body.

 

But she didn’t. Instead, her head swiveled around and she shouted something that sounded like “Ryder” and “please.” But I couldn’t think much about that. All I cared about was the fact that Renee, despite her tears, was okay and the man with the red hair was lying on the ground, staring with glazed, blank eyes right at me.

 

Dead, I thought with a strange sort of relief. He’s dead.

 

And that was enough reassurance for me that despite Renee’s pleas I could go to sleep. My eyes fluttered closed and I drifted off, letting the blackness swallow me whole.