Dark Lover

Chapter Fifty

For the next hour, Beth watched her two captors run around as if they were convinced Wrath was coming at any minute. Except how would he know where she was? It wasn't like the blond guy had left a ransom note. Or at least, not that she'd been aware of.

Pulling against the metal bands once more, she looked across the barn. The sun was just going down, the shadows long on the grass and the gravel drive. As Billy shut the double doors, she caught a last glance of the darkening sky and then watched as he slid home a series of thick bolts on the doors.

Wrath would absolutely look for her. She had no doubt of that. But surely it would take hours for him to find her, and she wasn't sure she had that kind of time left. Billy Riddle stared at her body with such hatred, she had to believe he would snap. Sooner rather than later.

"And now we wait," the blond man said, checking his watch. "It shouldn't be long. I want you armed. Put a gun on your belt and strap a knife on your ankle."

Billy was only too happy to gear up, and he had a lot to choose from. There were enough semiautomatics, shot guns, and sharp blades to outfit an army unit.

As he picked up a six-inch hunting knife, he turned and looked at her.

Her palms, clammy before, ran wet with sweat.

He took a step forward.

Beth frowned, looking to the right just as the other two did. What was that sound?

Some kind of rumble. Thunder? A train?

Whatever it was, it was getting louder.

And then she heard an odd tinkling noise, like wind chimes. She glanced across the barn. On the table where the ammunition was laid out, loose bullets were jumping around, knocking into one another.

Billy stared at his leader. "What the hell is that?"

The man took a deep breath as the temperature dropped a good twenty or thirty degrees.

"Get ready, Billy."

By now, the sound was a roar. And the barn was shaking so violently, dust from the rafters was falling, a fine snow that clouded the air.

Billy reached up to cover his head.

The barn doors splintered apart, blown open by a cold blast of fury. The whole building swayed under the force of the impact, beams and boards shifting, groaning.

Wrath filled the doorway, the air around him warping with vengeance, with menace, with the promise of death. Beth felt his eyes on her, and then a booming battle roar came out of him, so loud it hurt her ears.

From then on, Wrath reigned.

In a movement so fast her eyes couldn't track it, he went at the blond, grabbing the man and hammering him into a stall door. The blond wasn't even stunned and nailed Wrath with a hard uppercut to the jaw. The two battered and rammed and hit each other, slamming into walls, knocking out windows, breaking tables. In spite of the weapons they carried, they stuck with hand-to-hand combat, their faces harsh, their lips peeled back, their tremendous bodies doing damage and being injured by turns.

She didn't want to watch, but she couldn't turn away.

Especially as Billy grabbed a knife and launched himself onto Wrath's back. With a vicious twist, Wrath peeled the guy off of him and pitched Billy into the air. Riddle's body flew across the space to the other end of the barn, landing in a pile of arms and legs.

Billy struggled to his feet, dazed. Blood streamed down his face.

Wrath took tremendous kicks to the body, but he didn't slow. And he was able to hold the blond off long enough to flip open one of the metal bands that held Beth's wrists in place. She went to work on the opposite side, freeing her other hand.

"The dogs! Let loose the dogs," the blond man cried out.

Billy staggered from the barn. A moment later, two pit bulls came shooting around the corner.

They went right for Wrath's ankles, just as the blond unsheathed a knife.

Beth freed both her feet and popped off the table.

"Run!" Wrath yelled to her, ripping one dog off his leg while blocking a blow to the face.

Screw that, she thought, picking up the first thing she found. It was a ball-peen hammer.

Beth went after the blond man just as Wrath lost his balance and went down. Lifting the hammer as high as she could, she threw every ounce of strength that she had into the damn thing. And brought it down square on the back of the blond's head.

There was a crack of bone and a burst of blood.

And then one of the dogs wheeled around and bit her in the thigh.

She screamed as its teeth tore through her skin and sank into her muscles.

Wrath tossed the lesser's body off him and leaped to his feet.

One of the dogs was on Beth, its mouth around her upper leg. The animal was trying to roll her on to the ground so it could go for her throat. Wrath lunged forward only to pause. If he pulled the dog free, the thing was liable to take a whole hunk of her thigh with him when it went.

Vishous's voice came to Wrath in a rush: Two guards tortured will fight each other.

Wrath tore the dog off his own ankle and threw it at the one that was attacking Beth. The other animal was knocked free. And the two pit bulls went after each other.

Wrath ran over as she fell. She was bleeding. "Beth—"

A shotgun went off.

Wrath heard a high whistle and felt his neck burn as though he'd been hit with a torch.

Beth screamed as he wheeled around. Billy Riddle repositioned the gun on his shoulder.

Fury made Wrath forget everything. He stalked toward the new recruit, not stopping even when the shotgun was up and pointed at his chest. Billy pulled the trigger, and Wrath moved to one side before diving forward. He took the lesser's neck in his teeth and ripped it open. Then he snapped Billy's head around until it cracked loose.

Wrath turned around to go back to Beth.

But fell to his knees instead.

Confused, he looked down at himself. There was a hole the size of a melon in his abdomen.

"Wrath!" Beth limped over.

"I'm… hit, leelan."

"Oh, God." She ripped the robe from her body, stuffing it against his stomach. "Where's your phone?"

He lifted one hand feebly as he fell over on his side. "Pocket."

She grabbed the cell and dialed the house. "Butch? Butch! Help! Wrath's been shot in the belly! I—I don't know where we are—"

"Route 22," Wrath murmured. "Ranch house with a black Hummer in front."

Beth repeated his words, pressing the robe into his wound. "We're in the barn. Come fast! He's bleeding."

A low growl came from the left.

Wrath looked over just as Beth did. The surviving pit bull, bloodied, but still angry, was advancing.

Beth didn't hesitate. She unsheathed one of Wrath's daggers and crouched.

"Just get here, Butch. Now." She flipped the phone shut and dropped it. "Come on, you ugly-ass dog. Come on!"

The dog circled, and Wrath could feel himself being eyed. For some reason the animal wanted him, maybe because he was bleeding so badly. Beth moved with the pit bull, arms held wide.

Her voice throbbed. "You want some of him? You're going to have to get through me."

The dog leaped at Beth, and as if she'd been trained to kill, she got down low and plunged the knife up into the animal's chest cavity. The thing dropped like a stone.

She left the knife in place and scrambled back. She was shaking so badly, her hands were like birds as she lifted the cloth at his stomach.

"It doesn't hurt," he whispered, smelling her tears.

"Oh, Wrath." She grabbed his hand, gripping it hard. "You're in shock."

"Yeah, probably. I can't see you, where are you?"

"I'm here." She put his fingers to her face. "Can you feel me?"

Barely, but it was enough to keep him going.

"I wish you were pregnant," he said hoarsely. "I don't want you to be alone."

"Don't say that!"

"Ask Tohr and Wellsie to take you in."

"No."

"Promise me."

"I will not," she said fiercely. "You're not going anywhere."

She was so wrong about that, he thought. He could feel himself slipping away.

"I love you, leelan."

Beth started to sob. Her strangled cries were the last sound he heard as he fought against the tide and lost.

Beth didn't look up when the cell phone started ringing.

"Wrath?" she said again. "Wrath…"

She put her ear to his chest. His heart was still working, but the beats were faint, and he was breathing, though slowly. She was desperate to help him, except she couldn't do CPR. Not until his vitals crashed.

"Oh, God…"

The phone kept ringing.

She grabbed it off the dirt floor, trying to ignore the spreading pool of blood around Wrath's body. "What!"

"Beth! It's Butch. I'm with V. He and I are going to be there soon, but he needs to talk to you."

There was a whirring noise in the background, as if a car engine was screaming.

Vishous's voice was intense. "Beth, here's what you need to do. Do you have a knife?"

She eyed the remaining dagger on Wrath's chest. "Yes."

"Get it. I want you to cut your wrist. Do it vertically down the forearm, not horizontally, otherwise you'll just hit bone. Then put it to his mouth. It's his best chance of surviving until we can get him help." There was a pause. "Put the phone down, honey, and get the knife. I'll talk you through it."

Beth reached over and extracted the blade from Wrath's holster. She didn't hesitate to slice her left wrist open. The pain made her gasp, but she didn't dwell on the burning as she put the wound to Wrath's mouth. She picked up the phone with her free hand.

"He's not drinking."

"You've already cut yourself? Good girl."

"He's not… he's not swallowing."

"Hopefully some's getting down the back of his throat."

"He's bleeding from there, too."

"Jesus… I'm driving as fast as I can."

Butch spotted the Hummer. "Over there!"

Vishous drove right across the lawn, and they leaped from the car, punch running for the barn.

Butch couldn't believe the scene inside. A couple of slaughtered dogs. Blood everywhere. One really dead body—Jesus, that was Billy Riddle.

And then he saw Beth.

She was wearing a long T-shirt that was covered with blood and dirt, her eyes gone mad as she knelt by Wrath's body with one wrist to his lips. When she noticed them, she hissed and brought up her knife, prepared to fight.

Vishous went forward, but Butch grabbed his arm. "Let me go first."

Slowly, Butch stepped over to her. "Beth? Beth, you know who we are."

But the closer he got to Wrath, the crazier her eyes became.

She pulled her wrist away from the man's mouth, ready to defend him.

"Easy, girl. We're not going to hurt him. Beth, it's me."

She blinked. "Butch?"

"Yeah, baby. It's me and Vishous."

She dropped the knife and started to cry.

"Okay, it's okay." He tried to get her into his arms, but she dropped back down to Wrath. "No, baby. Let V look at him, okay? Come on, it'll just take a minute."

She allowed herself to be pulled back. As Butch tore off his shirt and wrapped it around her waist, he nodded to V.

Vishous dropped to Wrath's side. When he looked up from the other vampire's stomach, his lips were tight.

Beth sank down, putting her wrist back in place. "He'll be all right, won't he? We'll just move him to a doctor. To a hospital. Right? Vishous, right?" Desperation made her shrill.

And then suddenly, they weren't alone.

Marissa and a distinguished, frantic-looking man appeared out of nowhere.

The guy went to Wrath's body and lifted the wad of blood-soaked satin. "We've got to get him to my OR."

"My car's on the front lawn," V said. "I'll come back and finish things when he's safe."

The man cursed as he examined the neck wound. He looked at Beth. "Your blood's not strong enough. Marissa, get over here."

Beth was fighting back tears as she lifted her wrist from Wrath's mouth and looked up at the blond woman.

Marissa hesitated. "Are you okay with my feeding him?"

Beth offered Wrath's dagger handle first. "I don't care who he drinks from if it will save him."

Marissa cut herself easily, as if she'd done it many times before. Then she lifted Wrath's head up and pressed the wound to his mouth.

His body jolted like it had been hooked up to a car battery.

"All right, let's move him," said the man who'd taken charge. "Marissa, you keep that wrist right where it is."

Beth took Wrath's hand as the men got him up off the barn floor. They carried him as gently as they could over to Vishous's SUV, laying him out flat in the back. Marissa and Beth got in with Wrath as Butch and Vishous took the front seat. The other man disappeared.

As the Escalade roared over the back roads, Beth stroked Wrath's arm, up and down his tattoos. The skin was cold.

"You love him so very much," Marissa murmured.

Beth looked up. "Is he drinking?"

"I don't know."