Part 21 (1/2)

d.a.m.n it.

She didn't how what in the h.e.l.l do for her other than free her. Rolling her onto her back would be best, so Taige could elevate the girl's feet, but her back looked like raw meat, crisscrossed with so many open, bleeding cuts. ”Can you carry her out of here?”

Taige asked quietly. The ambulance would be there soon, but Taige just couldn't let her remain on the table another second. She went to work on the thick leather straps, freeing the ones at her waist and thighs first. The blood on the straps and the tears in Taige's eyes made it slow going.

”Should we move her?” Cullen asked softly.

Her voice shook as she answered, ”I don't know. But we can't leave her here.” She finally got the first strap undone and went to work on another. Cul en moved around to the girl's feet and started working the ankle straps.

The girl finally made a sound, a soft, broken little moan. Taige wanted to touch her, rea.s.sure her somehow. But she had a feeling that anything she did would make it worse.

So instead of touching her, she murmured, ”It's okay, sugar. He can't hurt you.”

She finished the wrist strap and looked up to see Cullen freeing the last ankle strap.

Looking into his eyes was like looking clear into h.e.l.l. There was rage there, something deep and fathomless. His eyes burned into Taige's, and she watched as he slowly turned his head, his eyes seeking out Leon's battered body.

Leon stirred.

A feral snarl twisted Cullen's features, and she watched as the air around him turned dark and red with rage. The power of his fury broke through his natural mental s.h.i.+elds, and it pushed her back a step or two. Worse, it fueled her own rage. Her vision went red, blood roared in her ears, and nothing mattered more than getting her hands on Leon and tearing him apart.

Nothing but the girl behind her.

A second, pathetic whimper broke through her fury. It had little effect on Cul en. It was her turn now; he'd broken through her rage only seconds ago, and now she'd have to reach him. As much as she hated it, she reached out, laid a hand on his arm as he paced forward, intent on Leon. ”Cullen, I can't carry her.”

Her soft voice reached him, although Cullen wouldn't have thought anything could get through to him at that point. Not when he had a vicious, gut-wrenching need to maim and kill. In theory, he understood primal rage. He'd written about it in his books, and he thought he even understood it after what had happened to his mother. This went deeper than that, though. Deeper than anything he'd ever felt. He wanted to shrug Taige's hand aside and get to work, but instead, he turned his head and looked at her.

That one look, and then he could kil Leon.

But looking at her now, it was like time disappeared, and they once more stood in his room on the day she'd come to him after his mother had been killed. She'd tried to reach out to him. Tried to help him, and he in return had done something that had nearly destroyed them both.

His eyes closed. He felt his feet moving, and he looked up, found himself moving to the girl. Get her safe first. That had to come first.

Fate was a b.i.t.c.h. An ugly, nasty b.i.t.c.h. Sliding his arms under Leon's latest victim, he saw the movement out of the corner of his eye. He saw it but couldn't make sense of it until the cracking sound fil ed the room. He heard Taige's scream, turned his head, and watched as Leon stood, his whip in hand, an unholy light of evil joy in his eyes. He raised the whip again. Taige was on her hands and knees, still blinded by the shock of the pain.

Cullen could feel that pain. It had knocked the breath out of her, and she was stil reeling from it, couldn't see through it.

But Cullen could. Time slowed down to a crawl, and he could see the braided tail of the whip moving through the air. Instinct placed him between Taige's body and Leon, his forearm lifted. Adrenaline numbed the pain as the whip curled around his arm, twining like a snake. Leon tried to jerk the whip back, but Cullen reached up with his other hand and jerked, pul ing with a savage strength. The whip flew out of Leon's hand, and Cullen caught the b.u.t.t of it.

It was heavy, weighted. Closing his fist around one end, he used the other end as a club, striking Leon square in the temple. He fell like a stone, and Cullen moved to Taige. She stil crouched on her hands and knees. Under the whip's lash, her s.h.i.+rt had torn, and he could see the long, ugly mark. The skin had split, and blood wel ed, trickling down her sides. Already the edges of the wound were swol en and bruised. ”I'm going to kill him,”

Cullen swore.

Taige wheezed, fought to speak through the pain. Dear G.o.d, it was unreal. How had that girl lived through this? ”Get . . . her . . . first.”

Through the sheen of tears, she saw him look back at Leon. Taige shook her head.

”d.a.m.n it, get her out!” Gritting her teeth, she shoved herself to her feet. Adrenaline had started to course through her body, and she could breathe through the pain now-barely.

She swayed and had to lock her knees to remain upright. But she'd be d.a.m.ned if she went down again. Jaw clenched, she pulled her gun and looked Cul en square in the eye. His turquoise eyes bore into hers, burning with that bloodthirsty, frenzied rage. ”The girl, first,” she said hoa.r.s.ely.

Then, if Cul en wanted to rip Leon apart limb from limb, she wouldn't give a hot d.a.m.n. She'd even help hide the body.

She swayed on her feet, her hand clenched around the b.u.t.t of her Glock. She clenched it so hard, the metal bit into her flesh. She focused on the gun, the weight of it, the solidity. Fantasized about lifting it, leveling it between Leon's eyes, and pulling the trigger.

Taige sensed the team's arrival before she heard them, and she made the deadly mistake of looking away from Leon. The old man's rage must have given him speed, because she hadn't ever seen him move like that, with venomous, deadly accuracy. She saw the gun in his hand, although where it had come from, she didn't know. The fiery injury on her back had slowed her reflexes, and she couldn't lift her own weapon in time.

She heard the shot echo through the bas.e.m.e.nt, felt the pain explode through her.

Then everything else ceased to exist.

”NO!” The word tore from Cullen as he watched Leon lift the gun. Yes. Fate was a serious b.i.t.c.h. Instinct had demanded he kil Leon, but the last time he'd let his rage dictate his every move, he'd shattered Taige. This time, he'd let her reach him, let her convince him to get the girl out, and because he hadn't listened to his own instincts, she was going . . .

No.

No.

He watched her fall, saw her eyes go wide.

Until he had his arm around Leon's neck, Cullen didn't even realize he'd moved. He jerked the older man off his feet with a savage strength brought on by rage. He felt bone crack, felt Leon go limp. Then he let go. Leon's gun had fallen from limp fingers, and Cullen, without thinking, stooped, grabbed it, and then turned, aimed between Leon's wide, unseeing eyes, and pulled the trigger.

There'd be no getting up this time.

Dropping the gun, he ran to Taige's side and fell to his knees. Her eyes were open, wide and gla.s.sy, her breathing coming in irregular, harsh gasps. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Instinctively, Cullen covered the wound in her chest with his hand and pressed down against the flow of blood. The agony slicing through him was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Cul en understood loss.

But this wasn't loss.

This was death, hers and his own. If she died, she was going to take the better part of his soul with him. ”Don't die, baby,” he whispered. ”Please don't die.”

As Taige's breathing slowed, as her heart faltered under his hands, he died a little inside.

”G.o.d, please,” he prayed, begging. ”Don't take her now. Not now.”

IT hadn't ever felt like this, Taige mused as the gray wrapped around her. Usually it was warm, almost comforting as it guided her along the paths she must follow. Even when it came on hard and strong, it wasn't ever cold. It wasn't painful. And always, she was filled with a certainty of what she had to do.

But now? Although there was a new path before her, there was nothing comforting about it. Somehow she knew some ugly piece of h.e.l.l didn't await her at the end of this journey, but she didn't want to go.

It was cold, and as she drifted along, it grew colder. Darker. Behind her, she felt something warm. Then she heard a voice. His voice-the warmth of him, the strength of him. Cullen-He called her name, and she could feel him trying to reach her. If a person's will alone could anchor somebody, his would do it.

But then, right when she found the strength to reach for him, he was pul ed away.

Something intruded. Others came. She heard their voices, felt their presence. Chaotic confusion. More voices. G.o.d, the pain. It ate at her. Tore at her, ripped into her with jagged teeth and claws. The gray, as cold as it was, was better than this pain, and she retreated back into it, even though she could faintly hear Cul en's voice, even though she could feel the presence of friends crowding around and reaching out to her.

She drifted. It was cold, but it wasn't that bad. Better than the pain. Much better.

”WE'RE losing her!”

Cullen heard the paramedic's grim voice, and he fought his way through the medics and the federal agents. When Jones's team had shown up, the agents had been forced to tear Cullen away so the medics could get to her.

But now, nothing in h.e.l.l was going to keep him away. He fought free, and when one of the men tried to grab him, he struck out. Pain flared up his arm, but he never noticed as he ran to Taige. Fal ing to his knees by her head, he cupped her face, bent down, and kissed her.