Chapter Twenty-One
Sam needed a weapon. She had no idea where Ezra had stored the rifle he’d given her last night, and there was no time to search. Unfortunately, she hadn’t seen it during her exploring. There was a locked cabinet in the office, but she didn’t have a key.
The Spanish dagger.
She ran into the office. The mug was still in her hand, and she sloshed coffee over the sides. “Damn it.” She set the mug on a pad of paper sitting on the desk and grabbed the dagger. It wasn’t overly large, but it was sharp and better than nothing.
Sam ran to the window and peeked out. Aaron was on the dock now, and he had a nasty-looking rifle in his hand. She couldn’t stay in the house. She was a sitting duck here.
The thought of Aaron inside Ezra’s lovely home, his sanctuary, made her ill. But there was no other choice. It would take Aaron time to search the house. While he was busy, she would run and see if she could find the caves where Ezra kept his boat. Maybe he had another one.
“The phone in the kitchen.” She raced out of the office, gripping the knife tightly in her hand. Ezra had taken his cell with him, but the one he used for work was still on the counter. She grabbed it and checked the contacts list. There was only one for work.
Sam felt like crying. There was no way to call Ezra or his buddy Tarrant. And she couldn’t get the police involved. That would bring attention to Ezra. She might as well invite the Knights into his home.
Maybe she could convince Aaron she’d washed up on Ezra’s island and he’d taken her in out of pity. She’d think of something, but there was no time to waste. She shoved the phone into her pocket just in case she needed it and let herself out the back door.
Aaron had to be close to the house, even if he was taking his time. He had no idea how many people lived here, so he had to be cautious.
The trees she’d admired earlier offered her a haven. Ezra’s island was a little more than sixty acres. Not overly large, but hopefully large enough that she could hide. She knew there were caves somewhere. Ezra kept the dinghy there, the one he’d use to get to the mainland.
She was stuck on an island with no way off. Unless he had more than one dinghy. It was her only hope.
Sam took a deep breath and raced toward the tree line, keeping low and praying Aaron was focused on the house. She heard a shout behind her. There went her plan to have him waste time looking for her in the house. She hadn’t gotten away fast enough.
As she plunged through the dry, brittle grass, she prayed for Ezra to return. She had no idea how long she could evade Aaron, but she suspected it wouldn’t be for long. As former military, he had a hell of a lot more skills than she did, but she had determination on her side.
The grass crunched beneath her sneakers, but there was no way to soften the sound. She raced between two towering birches and into the shadows created by the trees. The ground was softer here. She jumped over a downed branch and kept going. The wind pulled at her sweater and made her eyes tear up. She swiped at them with her free hand and kept running.
Sam had no idea where she was going. All she knew was she had to keep moving. She zigzagged through the trees, not wanting to give Aaron a target to shoot at. She had no idea if he planned to kill her or if he wanted to talk with her first, but she feared it was the latter.
She broke through the trees and stumbled into a meadow. It was too open here. Her lungs were starting to burn, but she knew she couldn’t stop. She pivoted and took off to the right. She had no idea if she was heading into a dead end or if she’d end up somewhere she could hide.
All she could do was keep moving. The temptation to stop and hunker down behind a boulder or tree was overwhelming, but it was also dangerous. If she wasn’t moving, it would be easier for Aaron to catch her. Of course, he might just shoot her. He’d done it before.
With the dagger still gripped tightly in her hand, she skidded over some slick grass. The surf pounded against the rocks below. There was a twenty-foot drop off here and no way down. Swearing, she veered left. There was another small stand of trees ahead. She’d make for there and keep looking for a secure place where she could catch her breath. She had no idea where Aaron was.
Crack! The bark flew off the trunk of the tree in front of her. Sam ducked and began to zigzag once again. Damn it. Aaron was shooting at her. She didn’t know how much ammunition he had but suspected it was more than enough to do the job.
The bark exploded on another tree. This one off to her left. She automatically went right. The bastard was herding her back toward the drop off where she’d have no cover and nowhere to run. Worse, she was letting him.
Sam ducked low and raced deeper into the trees. The sound of him swearing followed her. She dared a glance over her shoulder. She needed to know where he was.
Her stomach dropped and her heart stopped for a brief second before resuming its rapid race. He was right behind her.
She turned back, but not in time. The toe of her sneaker caught on a rock partially hidden by moss and sent her tumbling. She managed to keep hold of the dagger, but that left her with only one hand to catch herself.
She skidded across the ground. Pain shot up her arm and across her knees. She didn’t stay down. She popped right back up and kept going. Her ankle hurt, and she was doing more of a skipping jog than a run.
She caught sight of a path off to the right and hurried toward it. It had to lead somewhere, didn’t it? It was her only hope.
Aaron was crashing behind her, not even trying to keep quiet. Since no one had come running after the gunshots, he must have rightfully assumed there was no one to come to her rescue.
The path plunged downward. She kept going because there was nothing else she could do, not with Aaron hot on her heels. Oh God, she was heading for the beach. She scanned the distance and felt her heart sink. She’d boxed herself into a corner. There was only one way in and out of this enclosed beach. Tall cliffs ringed it with only the carved path allowing access.
She was well and truly screwed.
Limping now, she picked up her pace, pushing her body as hard as she could. Maybe she’d find Ezra’s secret dock. It was a faint hope, but a hope nonetheless.
She hit the bottom of the path and raced onto the beach of small rocks worn smooth by the waves over thousands of years. The only sand was near the edge of the water.
In the distance was sheer rock. She looked behind her. There were cliffs there, too, but she thought there might be a break in one.
“You can’t hide,” Aaron taunted.
The hell she couldn’t. Sam ignored her aches and pains and the blood dribbling down her hand and made a beeline for the crevice. Maybe it was nothing, but she had to try.
She almost tripped but managed to stay upright. Any other day, she would have loved to sit on the beach and watch the waves, maybe explore a little. Today, all her focus was on the break in the rocks.
Her lungs were starving for air, and her heart was threatening to burst from her chest by the time she reached the small cut in the cliff. She felt like crying when she realized it was an indentation only about ten feet deep.
There was no way out. She was trapped.
Then she glanced toward the sea. She wasn’t totally trapped. It was insane to contemplate taking to the sea in November. If she didn’t drown, hypothermia would take her.
Either option was better than being shot by Aaron. Or worse, if he decided to torture her for information first.
Her thoughts were of Ezra as she plunged into the water. The frigid sea swirled around her feet and climbed higher on her legs.
Aaron was behind her, swearing and calling out to her. She ignored him and kept going.
By the time she was waist deep, she couldn’t feel her feet. She took a deep breath and dove forward. And was brutally yanked back. Aaron grabbed her by the hair and dragged her back toward the beach. She tried to fight him, but she couldn’t find her footing. Waves washed over her, choking her.
“You stupid bitch.” He hauled her close enough to the shore so she was kneeling on the seabed. Through it all, she’d managed to keep hold of the dagger. Aaron was distracted with trying to get her back to shore. It was now or never.
Lunging up, she slammed the dagger toward his heart. Some sixth sense of his kicked in, or maybe he caught sight of the blade. Whatever the reason, he managed to dodge to the right and back. The dagger sank into his thigh.
“God damn it.” He slammed his fist into her jaw, knocking her back.
Dazed and cold, she couldn’t fight when the waves washed over her. She tried to hold her breath, but her lungs began to burn. She fought, flailing her arms. The sweater that had been so cozy earlier was now water-logged and dragging her down. When a large wave receded, it pulled her with it. She stopped fighting. If she was swept out to sea, maybe she’d have a chance.
“Oh no, you don’t.” He caught her by the sweater and dragged her onto the shore. Blood poured down the wound in his thigh. He cut off the bottom of his pants with the dagger and used the material to make a bandage.
Sam coughed and sucked air into her aching lungs. She was so cold. Every square inch of her skin hurt. She knew she should move, try to run now that he was hurt. Maybe she could even get one of his guns while he was distracted.
But it all seemed like too much trouble.
She wasn’t shivering. She knew that was bad but couldn’t quite remember why. An image of Ezra popped into her head. He’d be alone again if she left him. Aaron would find him.
From deep in the depths of her soul, she found the strength to move. She dug her fingers into the damp sand and rock and pulled herself forward. Aaron’s rifle was on the ground only five feet away. It seemed more like a thousand miles. She gritted her teeth and dragged herself another couple of inches.
…
Ezra went cold when he spied the unknown boat tied up to his dock. Had Dexter found her?
He throttled back and cut the engine. The speedboat was heading hard for the dock. He didn’t care. He was already running when it slammed into the side.
He ran for the house and yanked open the door. “Sam!” Silence greeted him. His dragon was going crazy inside him, demanding to be let out.
Forcing himself to stop, he took a breath. If he was going to save her, he needed to be calm.
He stalked back outside and forced himself to listen. The normal sounds of the surf pounding the shoreline, the call of the seabirds, and the whoosh of the wind reached him. He was searching for something not quite so normal.
He heard the squawk of the gulls that made their homes along the cliffs of the beach. He could take the boat and approach it from the sea, but he could get there faster on foot.
He moved quicker than he ever had in his life. Sam had to be alive. She had to be. How could he live without her? He couldn’t. She’d brought joy into his life, given him a purpose. After thousands of years alone, he was not going to allow a Knight to steal his mate from him.
Sam might not know or accept it yet, but she was his mate, the one who completed him.
He saw them as soon as he broke away from the trees and raced across the open field. Sam on the ground, wet and bleeding. And she wasn’t moving.
A great roar broke from Ezra. The ground trembled beneath him.
Aaron Dexter glanced up, his eyes going wide as Ezra jumped off the cliff. He shifted in midair, giving his dragon freedom to protect Sam. For once, the two sides of him were in total harmony. There was nothing more important than Sam.
His clothes ripped as his wings snapped out. Hard scales replaced his skin. It took seconds, a mere heartbeat for the change to happen. Ezra swooped down and attacked.
Aaron yelled but recovered quickly and grabbed the rifle from the ground. The bullets hit Ezra and fell harmlessly to the rocky beach. Realizing he was helpless against the creature, Aaron turned his rifle on Sam.
“Come any closer, and I’ll kill her.”
Ezra landed on the beach, making the ground shiver. “You’re dead no matter what you do,” he informed the man. “It’s a question of how much you want to hurt before you die.” There was no way Dexter was walking away from this. He knew too much. He’d picked his path when he’d joined forces with the Knights, and it had led him here, to this moment.
He had to give the man credit. His hands were rock steady. He hadn’t given up.
“Oh, I think you’ll do what I say to protect the woman. Why else would you have helped her?” Dexter seemed pleased with his assessment.
Ezra tilted his head to one side and studied his opponent. He couldn’t look at Sam or he’d lose it. Her heart beat was weak, but she was still alive. That was all that mattered.
“She had a book. Now I have it.” That was something Dexter would believe. The man lived for power, with greed as his driving force. “A necklace, too.” He added that to hopefully anger the man. “You have nothing,” he taunted.
He needed to move Dexter a few more feet toward the beach, so he shifted position. As he’d hoped, the man backed up and raised the rifle back toward him, but just as quickly pointed it back at Sam. “Don’t move. I need to think.”
Dexter wasn’t quite as calm as he wanted Ezra to believe. His eyes were wide as he stared at the dragon in front of him in disbelief. Ezra knew he was an intimidating sight. He didn’t think Aaron had seen a dragon before. The man was sweating in spite of the chill. The pulse at his throat was fluttering wildly. He might be afraid, but the rifle was still aimed at Sam.
“Take all the time you need.” It didn’t matter now. Humans tended to forget that drakons had very long tails. He snapped it out, wielding it like a whip. He caught Dexter in the midsection. The rifle went off when Dexter’s finger jerked on the trigger, but the barrel was facing up, and the bullet shot harmlessly into the air.
Dexter flew through the air and slammed into the hard, unforgiving cliffs. Ezra knew he was dead before his broken body hit the ground. He didn’t bother to check. Sam needed him.
He shifted back to his human form and raced to her side. “Sam. Sam. Look at me, sweetheart.” He turned her onto her back. Her face was deathly pale. Her heartbeat was so faint he had to press his ear close to her chest to be able to hear it. She was much too cold.
He lifted her into his arms and hurried up the path. He’d deal with Dexter’s body later. As far as he knew, Dexter had been alone in the speedboat. He hadn’t seen another boat or signs of another person. The Knights tended to keep secrets, even from each other. Right now, Sam took priority over everything else.
Ezra took a deep breath and sent out a controlled blast of heat around him. Anything too hot would only hurt her. He needed to bring her core temperature up slowly. “Sam. I’m here.” She didn’t stir, didn’t even moan.
Her breathing was shallow and labored.
Naked, he ran with his precious burden cradled in his arms. The trees passed in a blur, and he gave a sigh of relief when the house came into view. He hurried inside and took her straight up to his room.
A sense of déjà vu hit him. This was the third time he’d carried her cold and limp body into his bedroom. He could measure the length of time he’d known her in days, a pinprick of time considering how long he’d lived. But she’d changed him forever.
He set her down on the bed and stripped her wet clothes from her body. A cell phone fell out of the pocket of her jeans. It was his work phone. Had she tried to call anyone? She wouldn’t have been able to contact him because he hadn’t thought to leave her the number. That was on him.
It would never happen again. He’d never leave her without resources to protect herself, that’s if he ever managed to make himself leave her side again.
Her skin was clammy and still far too cold. He climbed onto the bed and rested his back against the headboard, settling Sam between his legs. He dragged the comforter over her, using the blanket and his body to warm her and sending another controlled blast of heated breath over her.
“Sam, sweetheart, open your eyes.” He hugged her, trying to infuse his heat into her. Hypothermia was no joke. It was a deadly killer. Her knees and one of her palms were scraped and bloody. She had bruises everywhere, but he didn’t think anything was broken.
“Sam?” Why wasn’t she waking up? Her heart skipped a beat. When it started again, the rhythm was erratic. “Sam!” Was she going into cardiac arrest?
He couldn’t take the chance. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He had no way of knowing how she’d react to what he was about to do, not physically or emotionally, but he had to try.
He manifested a claw on his right index finger. It was usually more difficult to hold a single part of his dragon form. When the creature wanted out, it wanted out. But they were both working in harmony toward the same goal.
Ezra dragged it over his forearm. Blood trickled from the wound. He brought his arm to Sam’s mouth. “Drink. It’s medicine, Sam.” He hoped she was too out of it to notice she was drinking blood from his arm. He had no way to know how she’d react to such a revelation, and he had to get her to swallow. “Drink your medicine. You’ll feel better.”
She was so still, so quiet, nothing at all like the vibrant woman he’d come to know. With his own heart pounding so loudly he couldn’t hear hers anymore. “Sam. Drink. You fucking drink. Do you hear me?” He yelled and cajoled. Something blurred his vision. He ignored it and kept the seeping wound by her lips.
He tilted her head back and prayed some of his blood dribbled down her throat.
“Please, Sam.” He switched from yelling to pleading. “You have to drink.” Desperate, he tried another tactic. “The Knights are coming for me, Sam. You have to help me.” He called out to her over and over, one minute threatening and the next entreating her to come back to him.