Dayan thought only of the man holding his lifemate. He allowed nothing else in his mind. He stared directly at the arm around her throat in an L choke hold. Almost at once the muscles in the man’s arm began to swell. He yelled and released Corinne’s neck, only to shove her in the back as she attempted to run from him. Right before Dayan’s eyes, she went down hard, her hands going out to try to protect the baby from the rocky ground.
Swearing eloquently to himself in the ancient language, Dayan used his last remaining surge of power to buckle the earth so that Corinne’s assailant fell hard, his head striking a jutting rock. At once more rocks tumbled down, dislodged by the minor quake, at first slowly, then raining down in a concentrated shower, striking the man’s head and chest so that he was partially buried beneath the heavy stones.
That was all Dayan could do until the earth renewed his strength and the sun began to wane. With one last look at Corinne, lying small and fragile in the dirt, he reluctantly broke the mind merge with Cullen, his spirit retreating to its resting place, where his body already lay paralyzed.
Cullen turned to look at Lisa, who was struggling wildly with the security guards. “Corinne! Cullen, get to Corinne. Someone call an ambulance.” Tears were streaming down Lisa’s face.
Cullen was sprinting toward Corinne’s fallen body when something hit him hard from behind, spinning him halfway around. His breath slammed out of him, leaving him gasping for air. He registered Lisa’s high-pitched scream, saw people throwing themselves to the ground and running for cover. He never heard the gunshot. He wasn’t even certain what actually happened, but when he tried to continue his forward momentum to reach Corinne, his legs turned to rubber and he found himself sitting abruptly on the edge of the grassy lawn.
“Cullen!” Lisa did manage to break free for a moment before a security guard threw her to the ground and covered her body with his.
It was Frank who aimed his gun very carefully, his hand steady when the gunman continued running toward Corinne. Frank called out a warning, loud and clear, hoping the man would stop. Instead, he turned and fired at the security guard, all in one smooth motion. The bullet thunked into a tree beside the security guard’s head. Without flinching, Frank squeezed the trigger. He found he was whispering to himself, “No. No, don’t.” The gunman stood still, staring in dismay at Frank, his gun falling in a strange slow motion from his hand. He looked down at the crimson stain spreading across his chest and then up at Frank before he fell onto his knees and then face down, half on the rocks and half on the lawn.
For a moment there was only the sound of sobbing, and then people slowly began to look at one another, realizing the violence was over as quickly as it had started. Frank kept his gun aimed steadily on the stranger who had shot at him as he walked slowly toward him. Sirens could be heard in the distance, coming closer fast. Frank glanced anxiously at Corinne. She was very still, face down in the rocks.
Minutes later Lisa was climbing into an ambulance with Corinne, clutching Corinne’s purse, tears running down her face. Cullen was being loaded into another ambulance. Lisa pressed a hand to her mouth to keep from crying out loud. “I did this,” she whispered to Corinne.
Corinne was so pale she looked gray. Around her lips was a distinctive blue color that horrified Lisa. “She’s pregnant,” she said unnecessarily to the paramedics, “and she has a bad heart.”
An oxygen mask covered Corinne’s face. She looked small and helpless, very vulnerable and fragile. Already broken. As if she had already gone far away from Lisa. Lisa took a firm hold of her hand, wanting to cling to her, to prevent Corinne from slipping away. “Is she going to be all right?”
The ambulance was moving very fast, the paramedics talking on their radio, putting things into Corinne’s IV. None of them looked directly at Lisa, and none answered her question. She touched Corinne’s stomach, the baby. John and Corinne’s baby. She didn’t want to lose either of them. And if the worst happened and Corinne’s heart gave out, Lisa wanted that tiny little part of her to live. “It’s too early for you, baby,” she crooned softly. “Way too early.”
At the hospital Lisa was hustled out of the emergency room. She could only watch helplessly as they rushed Cullen into a cubicle beside Corinne. A policewoman came in after a long while to talk to her, but nobody said anything about Corinne or Cullen. Eventually the waiting room was filled with people: her photographer, her agent, Frank the security guard. The one person she looked for, waited for, knew she could lean on, the one person she dreaded most, didn’t come.
Dayan. She would never be able to look him in the eye. Why hadn’t she just listened to them all? Lisa hadn’t wanted it all to be true. Murders didn’t happen to regular people; she and Corinne were finished with that world. She had worked hard and found a new life. One that didn’t include murder. She sat quietly, her fists clenched tightly, wanting to cry and cry forever.
Dayan lay locked in the earth, counting the minutes until he could rise without danger. He burst from the soil, dirt spewing like a geyser as he shot into the sky, shape-shifting as he did so. The sun was low but had not set, and the light hit his eyes so that they burned and wept. Or maybe it wasn’t the sun. Dayan didn’t know for certain as he winged his way swiftly across the sky toward the hospital where she lay.
His world. His life. The best part of him. She lay dying in a hospital. He knew it. He felt it. He kept his mind firmly merged with hers so that she couldn’t possibly release her spirit from her dying body.
You will hold on. ‘
He commanded it with every fiber of his being, bent his entire will to ensure her obedience.
I am so tired. Rest then, but you will not let go. I hear them talking. They do not think they can save my baby.
There was sorrow in her mind, in her heart. A terrible weariness as if she had given up along with the doctors, as if she could no longer continue to struggle against the tremendous odds.
Do not leave me alone!
he cried out. It was a plea. An order.
No one needs you as I do. Do not leave me alone ever again. Dayan. You are strong. So very strong. There will be another for you.
Even in her darkest hour she was thinking of him. Of Cullen and Lisa. She was piecing it together in her mind. Their future. Their happiness. She arranged it the way she thought would work best.
Dayan surrounded her waning spirit, locked her firmly to him.
There will never be another for me. Never. Should I survive your loss and continue for all eternity, I would no longer be me, but something hideous, an abomination. An evil monster. I will not become such a creature. I would choose to follow you into the next life. We are one, Corinne. One. There is no Dayan without Corinne. You have no choice but to live. For the daughter you carry inside you. For me. For our unborn children. For Lisa. I will not release you. Not now. Not ever.
He was much closer now, moving swiftly as the sun sank below the horizon. Colors splashed the sky blood red, and the wind was beginning to pick up, an ominous sign. Dayan was no longer the easygoing poet, the gentle man Corinne knew. He was a male Carpathian at full strength, and something was threatening his lifemate.
He strode unseen past the doctors and nurses, leaving a freezing cold in his wake. Past Lisa, huddled in the room where Cullen lay pale and bandaged and still unconscious. Dayan spared his friend a quick glance, attempting to assess the damage as he hurried to Corinne. Without her, he couldn’t help Cullen or anyone else. His first thought, his first duty, was to Corinne.
She lay on the bed, hooked up to lines and bottles. She was very pale, almost transparent. Despite the oxygen, there was a blue tint around her mouth. Corinne looked small and thin beneath the single cover. She looked a mere child, a waxen doll. She was laboring hard for each breath. Leads ran from her heart to a machine and from her abdomen to another machine. Dayan stood looking down at her, his heart in his throat. She looked so fragile, he was afraid to touch her.