Chapter Seventeen – Arabella
Her hands were numb and her knees ached from kneeling on the cement floor, but Arabella didn't care about that. She struggled against the cuffs holding her hands behind her back, bile rising in her throat.
Four senior members of the organization milled about her, weapons carefully out of sight but in easy reach. They'd been planning how to kill Grayson for the last hour and had decided that a direct bullet to the head was the best way to go. Arabella fought against her tears, trying to plan how to protect him. So far nothing had come to mind except sheer terror.
"If he's not here in twenty minutes, we'll just have to leave you here dead for him – or whatever police force he's arranging – to find." The woman who had taken the mission, Leslie, sounded bored as her fingers tapped against her arms. "You'd better pray he comes, Arabella."
She prayed for the exact opposite. Her life didn't matter in comparison to his.
Her hopes were dashed seconds later when Grayson's footsteps echoed through the giant warehouse. Her struggles intensified, a cry breaking from her throat. She regretted it as soon as the noise left her. Grayson's steps quickened. Arabella's mind whirled. She couldn’t let him die trying to save her. A glance behind her showed that Leslie wasn't paying attention to her – too focused on the approaching dragon. The men she had with her drew their weapons. One of them winked at Arabella.
"Quiet, sweetheart," he said. "Or you'll be put down with the beast."
And her other choice? Watch the man she loved die, and then go through 'reprogramming' again until she was a mindless drone or died from the trauma?
No.
"Get out of here," she shouted. "It's a trap!"
Grayson rounded the corner, revealing himself to the group even as she spoke. Leslie smiled and the men around her raised their weapons. Arabella screamed, every inch of her straining against her bonds. She knew this ploy – distract the target with visible weapons so they don't avoid the shot from the weapon they can't see. Her heart slammed against her ribs, adrenaline flooding her system. She leaped to her feet and threw herself in front of Leslie as the small gun in the woman's hand went off.
A bullet seared through her belly. Arabella's scream cut off as white-hot pain shot through her, burrowing towards her spine. The breath left her lungs. Time seemed to slow down, though she knew that it was just shock. The faces of Leslie and her men blurred. Their expressions were meaningless, anyways. She turned, her eyes seeking out Grayson.
He shouted and ran forward. She wanted to tell him not to come, to turn around and leave, but for some reason, her throat wouldn't work. Several more shots rang out. The pain was so overwhelming already she didn't know if they hit her or not. Grayson spun. Blood burst from his shoulder.
"No," Arabella whispered, then dropped.
A rush of wind filled the warehouse. Weakly, she looked up to Grayson charging forward again. Flames billowed from his mouth and smoke shrouded his form. The guns kept firing. These were highly trained members. Every bullet struck where they wanted it to . . .
But the organization had never dealt with Dragons before. The bullets bounced off his skin as scales spread over his chest. His teeth grew long and jagged.
His wings snapped out to either side of his body and he let out a roar that reminded Arabella of the fairy tales she had been told as a child – about deadly dragons taking down entire armies.
Grayson knocked the gunmen aside with a single sweep of his tail. They flew back, crumpling when they hit walls. Three scrambled back to their feet and aimed their weapons at Grayson, but the fourth stayed down. The dragon stood protectively over Arabella as she inched towards a fallen gun, desperate to help. A streak of blood followed her in a trail. Once she reached it, her cuffed hands reminded her she wouldn't be able to use it anyway.
The heat of Grayson's body over hers made her head swim. Or was that the loss of blood? She couldn’t tell . . . He let loose a breath of fire. Screams rose in the air.
"Retreat," Leslie shouted. "Retreat!"
Grayson lunged. He caught Leslie in his teeth and threw her across the room. Two of the men ran at him and Grayson met them with another lungful of fire. A charred body lay on the floor near the wall, and the last man dropped his weapons and held his hands in the air.
"Don't kill me! Please!"
Arabella wanted to shoot the coward in the face, but Grayson didn't kill him. He gathered her gently into his front claws, then grabbed the man with a back foot, and picked up Leslie's body with his mouth. Was she even still alive?
The world faded to black, came back in vivid technicolor, then swirled in sepia tones as Grayson lifted into the air. Agony shot through her. Everything blacked out again, and when her vision came back, she was lying flat on her back, a mess of unfamiliar faces and gray walls surrounding her.
"Grayson!" she cried, struggling weakly. To her surprise, her hands flew out, free.
Her love caught one of them and pushed in beside her. "I'm here. I'm here, love. Don't worry. We're in the hospital. You need to get to surgery right away, darling, but you're going to be fine."
"Don't leave me," she blurted. One of the people, a nurse maybe, came at her with a needle and she swatted the hand away. "Grayson—"
"I'm here. I'm not leaving." His lips pressed to her forehead. "I'm here."
She clung to him. Tears rolled down her face as the pain rolled over her, leaving her gasping for breath. The darkness threatened to overcome her again, but she fought it back with a growl. There was something she needed to tell him . . . something important . . . but she couldn’t remember what it was.
"I'm sorry."
Grayson's warm eyes never left her. "For what?"
Good question . . . what was she sorry for?
"Running away," she blurted. "I left you and went after Kennedy."
He shook his head. "There is nothing to be sorry for. You were protecting us. And I love you for it."
Arabella's eyes drifted closed. She couldn't remember what she was supposed to say now . . . The voices around her echoed from a distance, confusing her. She heard something about blood loss and too much damage for surgery. Only Grayson's voice rang in clear.
"Then give her a transfusion of my blood, directly from the vein," he said. "Shifter blood helps to heal humans."
There was something about dilution, and then not enough time. Arabella didn't care. She clung to Grayson's hand. Her eyes remained closed, each breath becoming more and more difficult to pull in. Something stabbed into her arm, and she cried out. She opened her eyes just in time to see a tube running from her arm to Grayson's. A cold sensation filled her – the saline solution in the tube pushed into her body and then his dark blood flowed into her.
Fire raced through her body. It burned as it passed, filling her blood with flames. It pooled in her gut and shoulders, and she could feel it searing her flesh back together. Her back bowed, and she screamed. A jet of flame shot from her mouth, and then she collapsed. Everything went black.
***
The sound of the twins' voices was what brought her back. Arabella groaned, the feeling of fire still burning through her veins, though not as painful as it was before. She cracked one eye open experimentally, then the other. There was a dull pain in her stomach, but her mind was sharp and clear, not like she had been drugged. Blinking, she pushed herself upright, surprised by how strong she was.
"Arabella!"
She turned just in time for Grayson to envelop her. He crushed her to his chest, laughing and kissing her. Arabella melted into his embrace, her mind whirling as it tried to process everything. She was alive. So was he. The twins were safe. She flung her arms around him and kissed him deeply. Everything seemed to just melt away until they broke the kiss.
"What happened?" she gasped.
Grayson tucked her under his arm and slid onto the bed next to her. They were in a hospital, that was clear, but she didn't feel like she needed to be.
"I had to give you blood directly from my body," he said. "It's a dangerous procedure. Usually, the blood has to be diluted. But in this case, it saved your life. You've been asleep under observation for a day, but you're completely healed. Henry just brought the twins by to see you."
Arabella touched his face, then gasped. "No, they can't be here. You can't be here. The organization will still be after me and if they find you here—"
"The organization is no more." Grayson kissed her gently. "Those two people that I brought back from the warehouse spilled their guts. They've told everybody about the organization. It was still small, overextending its reach. The government already took them down. Dozens of people have been freed."
Her mind swirled. How was that possible? "Are-are you sure?"
Grayson nodded.
Arabella stared at him in shock. It didn't seem possible . . . the organization she had feared for so long was gone? The people who had turned her into a killer, kept her a prisoner and slave to her own life? Were they really gone? She wet her lips but wasn't sure what to say or think.
"Kennedy's dead," she blurted. "They killed her."
"I know. Her body was found this morning." Grayson brushed her hair from her face. "They won't hurt anybody ever again. They won't hurt you. I promise."
Tears of gratitude leaked from Arabella's eyes. She hugged Grayson tightly to her, hardly daring to believe it. The organization was gone. She was free. She was free.