CHAPTER7
Jesus!Leya pressed a hand to her heaving belly, gawking at the glimmering portal through which Aerén and their attacker disappeared, so sure her pounding heart would crash through her ribs.
Shooting a quick look around, her gaze fell on the destroyed trays of seedlings and the broken compost bag, and she scowled.Damn jerks!She picked up Aerén’s fallen dagger, then eyed the swirling orb again.
The glow of brightness drew her closer, and she recalled how effortlessly he’d opened a portal in Central Park earlier.
Was he a wizard or something?
Had to be. Opening portals, dematerializing from one place to another in seconds, it all fit—
The tiny hairs on her nape rose in warning.
Leya wheeled around or tried to, but a hard shove on her back had her careening through the portal into an impossibly icy place, her booted feet squishing through the soft snow as she stumbled to a halt. Rough fingers gripped her upper arm.
Breathing hard, Leya glared up at the pale-faced man with a shaven head, sporting a tattoo of a hammer, swirls, and some kind of inscription on his brow. Flat blue eyes stared back.
“W-who are you?” she rasped, the mind-numbing cold seeping through her tee and into her bones.
Keeping her shackled, Skinhead picked up Aerén’s fallen dagger and slipped it into his belt.
“That’s not important.” The cold, invasive stare he sent over had terror bleeding into her. “What matters is whatyouare to theishkhen.”
“Eye-sh-k—uh, you mean Aerén?”
“I’m surprised he allows you such informality. No matter, answer the damn question!”
“I’m n-nothing to him.”
“We’ll see about that.” He lifted a rope she recognized—the red nylon she sometimes used and had last seen on the truck.
“No, let me go!” She tried to break free of his grip and kicked out, but he dodged her blow. He wound the rope around her left wrist and knotted it.
If he thought she was some timid woman, too bad! Teeth gritted, she kneed him hard in the junk. He grunted and doubled over. A long, wheezing groan broke free.
Leya pivoted and raced toward the still visible portal, her boots sinking into the snow, only to be jerked back by the rope attached to her wrist. She nearly tripped. As she straightened, a fist landed on the side of her face. Pain exploded in a dizzying array of stars, and she cried out.
Same freaking side again!
Face red, the jerk palmed his junk for several seconds, then wrapped the other end of the rope around his hand. “Attack me again, and I will rip you open from navel to throat, human.”
He yanked the rope and took off again, and she stumbled along behind him. Her face hurt, and with her head throbbing from pain, she could barely see a thing.
The stink of rotten eggs burned her nose. A sudden hiss echoed. Hot sprinkles of water stung her face, and she whimpered.
The distant sounds of grunts and snarls reached her. The stupid skinhead hurried off, tugging her along by the rope. She tripped over a boulder and skidded on the slushy ground, nearly face-planting in a steaming pool of water. She wanted to punch the damn cretin. But terror twisted her insides, not knowing where she was or if Aerén was around.
Her chest burned, starving for oxygen, hating to drag in more sulfuric air. She could hear nothing above her loud heartbeats and raspy pants. The jerk suddenly stopped near a tall chunk of black rock. Leya lurched to a halt and gaped.
Oh, dear Lord.Aerén?
Several shaven-headed men with enormous swords and axes surrounded him. She covered her mouth with her hand. Didn’t dare utter a sound in case it distracted him and got him killed.
He was outnumbered. Unarmed. Yet an aura of peril enfolded him.
He reminded her of a caged predator who had its tail yanked one too many times, all coiled power and deadliness…or the stupid bravado of men foolish enough to think they could take on a small army singlehandedly and come out breathing.
They charged, and her heart leaped to her throat. Then he moved like the wind, straight into his swarm of attackers with nothing but his booted feet and fists as weapons.
