Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rykaur blasted from the water and hit the ground with a speed that would rival a cheetah. Fear and adrenaline coursed through his veins, creating an unearthly strength he might not normally possess.
The rest of his group had exited behind him. Though they ran like the wind as well, they were no match for Rykaur’s pace.
Rykaur could feel Mary’s terror, hear the silent screams she fought so hard to hold inside.
He attempted to connect with her over and over as he ran, to no avail. She couldn’t feel him through her fear.
What was Jefferies doing to her to cause such a reaction? Rykaur didn’t know, but his imagination tormented him with scenarios.
Cars and homes flew by him in a blur of color, so fast did he run. He didn’t stop until he reached the darkened house that Mary had described.
A scream burst from inside as Rykaur sped up the drive and hit the front door without stopping. It splintered beneath his weight, exploding inward and shattering across the kitchen floor.
Rykaur bounded down the hall, his boots slapping on the tile floor, his only warning as he charged into the bedroom and ripped Jefferies off a screaming Mary.
Jefferies landed against the opposite wall, busting the sheetrock on impact.
Rykaur didn’t stop. He stalked around the bed, pulled a knife from his boot, and reached for Jefferies.
That was when he noticed the man’s pants were down around his knees.
A roar of pain and fury welled up in Rykaur’s throat, bursting free with such force the window he stood next to shattered.
Rykaur couldn’t look at Mary. Not yet. His heart feared what he would find.
He yanked Jefferies up by his shirt, held him against the wall by the neck, and drove his blade to the hilt into the monster’s stomach.
“No!” Gryke snarled, barreling into the room. He grabbed hold of Rykaur’s arm to prevent him from freeing the knife and stabbing Jefferies again.
Rykaur bared his teeth. “He dies.”
A faint moan sounded from behind him, pulling Rykaur out of his psychotic frenzy. He blinked, his gaze focusing on Jefferies’s slack mouth.
“Tend to your mate,” Zaureth commanded, flanking Rykaur’s other side. “I will take care of this garbage.”
Rykaur released the handle of his blade and staggered back a step. He slowly turned to face Mary.
She lay on her side on the bed, her half-nude body huddled in a ball with her hands tied behind her back.
“Mary,” Rykaur whispered, rushing to the bed. He released her bound hands and covered her with a sheet.
Scooping her up into his arms, he hugged her tightly to him. “I am so sorry, my love. Ah, Mary…no.”
She lifted tear-filled eyes—eyes full of apology and something else he couldn’t name. “You made it. Thank God you made it. He would have…”
“He did not force you?”
She shook her head. “He would have if you’d been another minute. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you. I’m sorry about a lot of things I did and said.”
Rykaur’s heart ached for his precious Mary. “I should have taken into consideration your love for the children. I am as much to blame for all this. I was so caught up in my feelings for you and hoping that you could return those feelings that I ignored your desperation over the children’s safety.”
Mary laid her head on his shoulder and snuggled in closer. “Your feelings are returned, Rykaur. You were all I could think about when I thought that Jefferies was going to…”
“You do not have to talk about it now, sweet Mary. I will take you home. to our home, and have Abbie check you over.”
Lifting her head, Mary gazed into his eyes. “That sounds wonderful, but I have to find the children. They’re not here.”
Rykaur hesitated for long moments, glancing back to find Zaureth with his palms on either side of Jefferies’s head.
“I will help you dress, and then we will search for them.”
Gathering up Mary’s strewn clothes, Rykaur carried her from the room and into the bathroom.
He sat her on the sink. “I have never been as terrified as I was tonight, Mary. I thought I would be too late.”
“But you weren’t,” she whispered, holding still while he pulled the sheet free of her body.
A growl rose up when he took in the markings on her pale skin. “He hurt you.”
“It’s just bruises. They’ll heal.”
Rykaur wanted to run back into that bedroom and stab the piece of garbage again and again until there was nothing left of the man but bloodied meat.
Pulling her shirt free of her clothes, Rykaur noticed it was ripped down the front. He tossed it to the side, removed his vest, and put it on her. It swallowed her, the bottom resting on her thighs.
He laced it up. “It will have to do until we return home.”
After helping her into her jeans, he slipped her shoes onto her feet and brushed her hair back from her face. “Do not ever leave me again, Mary. I died a thousand times after hearing your scream inside my head. I thought I had lost you forever. I cannot live without you, whether you can love me or not…”