If I used the last of my energy on him, I wouldn’t make it out of here. I’d bleed out and the cops would find me.
Move, Lark.
I swallowed. The man was still moaning. I reached over and grabbed my knives, and even though they were bloody, I slid them back in my sheath.
Except for one.
This man wouldn’t hurt anyone else. He wouldn’t ruin the life of another daughter, or sister, or mother.
I moved to him, my steps unsteady. Then I plunged my knife into his heart.
He jerked, then his eyes went wide. He made an inhuman sound, then slumped back, staring sightlessly at the night sky.
I spun to leave, but my legs turned to Jell-o. I fell heavily on my butt.Shit. I pressed a hand to my bleeding side.
Well, this sucked.
I closed my eyes, just for a second. Emotions hit me. It was looking like I would die alone, the way I’d always known I would. Opening my eyes, I bit my lip and tried to dredge up some strength.
A shadow detached from the trees.
My pulse kicked and I watched the tall, muscular man prowl closer. Was I imagining him? He was wearing a three-quarter length coat that flared out behind him.
He looked like an archangel. Maybe the archangel of death.
Or the Reaper.
Bastian took the scene in one glance. He lifted a handgun fitted with a large silencer and fired two quick shots.
The rapist’s body jerked.
“He…was already dead,” I gritted out.
Bastian crouched in front of me. “Well, you made a mess.”
“I was going to clean it up.” Ugh, talking hurt. I sucked in a sharp breath.
“Sure, you were.”
I studied that ridiculously good-looking face of his. “You took the bandage off.”
“I didn’t need it. My head is fine.”
A part of me, deep inside, was glad to hear that. “How’d you find me?”
“Caught a glimpse of you on a security camera following that guy.”
Damn, I was slipping.
“I drove here as fast as I could, and when I saw the terrified woman running out of the park, I knew exactly where to find you.”
He pushed my hands away, reached under my jacket, and touched my bleeding side. My shirt was soaked with blood.
“Lark,” he hissed.
“It’s just a scratch.”
He made an annoyed sound. He pulled his coat off, then pressed it to the wound. Then he slid his arms under my body and lifted me.
