“What do you mean you’re stuck here? What kind of crappy soul collector gets stranded on the Death Wards?”
Sam debated tuning Aster out again, but what was the point? A padlock on the warlock’s mouth wouldn’t shut him up. Stretching one leg out in front of him, Sam stared glumly at his boot. He dredged up the image of Marabella’s sweet, angelic face. A dull ache settled in his heart. “The kind who was too stubborn and stupid to tell the witch who loves him that he loves her back.”
Aster was surprisingly silent for a few moments. It was the best two damn minutes of Sam’s life.
“Boy, you do have rocks for brains.”
Sam eyed the gun in his hand. It was tempting to waste one of the bullets on Aster just to shut him up for the time being. But his luck, the aggravating son of a bitch would probably find a way to still flap his gums from inside the chamber.
“Don’t you know women need to hear that kind of stuff? They’re verbal. Much more so than us men.” Aster gave a decisive nod. “Yep, dang females can yap on and on and on.”
Sam sent the warlock an ironic look that sailed right over the spirit’s head.
Aster leaned on his staff and stroked his beard. “They also like to be wooed and romanced. Did you do any of that?”
Sam mentally tracked to the forgotten flowers left in the cab. “No.”
“So not only are you a crappy soul collector, you’re also a crappy boyfriend.”
Much as it chapped Sam’s ass, he silently acknowledged that Aster had nailed it on the head with that one.
He’d failed Marabella. Big time. Frankly, he deserved to have his sorry, miserable ass ripped apart by those hellhounds outside.
His tormented thoughts spun back to Marabella’s telepathic communications with him earlier. She’d said something about Pricilla and blood. His gut cramped at the implications of what that could mean. He knew the viciousness Pricilla was capable of. No telling what she’d do to Marabella.
A hot wave of fury replaced the dismalness that’d gripped him. If as much as one drop of Marabella’s blood was spilled at the hands of Pricilla, even death wouldn’t keep him from tearing Pricilla limb from limb.
Without warning, a fierce bullet of energy sizzled across his skin, jolting him. The shock of sensation rocketed him to his feet just as the door handle across from him began rattling frantically. One of the damn hellhounds had shifted and was trying to bypass the lock. Talk about bad fucking timing.
Aiming Lucy at the shaking door, Sam focused on the stirrings of energy zinging in and out of focus throughout his body. Hope and desperation pumped adrenaline through his veins, making his grip on Lucy dangerously unsteady. He fixed the image of Marabella within his mind like a beautiful oasis calling to him. Static buzzed in his brain before a blip of sound broke through the scrambled signal. “Sam!”
His knees nearly buckled in relief. “Bella, baby, I’m coming for you.”
The transmission fizzled, along with the electrical charge snapping through him. His anguished roar echoed in the room. Refusing to let defeat beat him into the ground, he reached out with everything inside him to grab the unraveling threads of their bonded link. Marabella’s impassioned words ghosted through his mind. You have a voice, whether you believe it or not. And you have the right to use it.
The gatehouse door burst open, and a sea of fur and snarling fangs descended upon him. Surprisingly, Aster leapt into the fray and conked one of the hellhounds in the head with his staff. The crazy old warlock got out a gleeful chortle before the hound’s comrade chomped onto the end of Aster’s cloak and whipped him through the doorway. Aster yelled some disparaging comment about flea-bitten hounds before the door slammed shut on him, snuffing the remainder of his insult.
Left to defend himself on his own, Sam fired at the horde of beasts, taking one out while another leapt at his throat with a victorious howl. Death might win this round, but not without him having the last words. “I love you, Bella.”
Brilliant streams of light filled his soul and splintered throughout him, suspending the room in a dazzling glare. A blur of motion surrounded him, spinning the gatehouse and everything inside it like a centrifuge. Out of the chaos a tunnel appeared, and shimmering chains rippled toward him. He snatched the end of one before it could disappear. The tunnel sucked him in, and suddenly he was flying through teleport space. A tiny square of light appeared before him, growing infinitely larger as the chain attached to it towed him in. The tunnel narrowed, shooting him into the vast opening of light. He landed running, instinctively knowing where his blurred environment was taking him.
The accelerated landscape locked into static shape. Ahead of him stood Pricilla’s mansion. He barreled in its direction, narrowly missing a passing car. Ignoring the vehicle’s angry horn blast, he raced up the drive, the Palladium window on the left side of the porch fixed in his sights. He vaulted over the rail and tucked his arms in front of his face. Crashing through the glass, he did a duck and roll, landing on his haunches.
Startled shouts shot from Pricilla’s goons. Their confusion awarding him the edge, he fired off Lucy, putting a bullet through the first two thugs before the other two even knew what was happening. The third goon grabbed for his gun a second too late. Unfortunately, the fourth had better luck. A bullet whizzed into Sam’s shoulder, knocking him back.
He staggered against the wall, woozy from his sprint and his additional loss of blood. His opponent realigned his shot. Before the thug managed to squeeze the trigger, Sam slammed a bullet between the goon’s eyes. He hurtled over the fallen demon and raced down the hall. “Bella!”
Muffled shouts came from the vicinity of Pricilla’s office. He kicked the door in and swung Lucy in front of him. Cass was trussed up in one chair and Marabella in another. His trigger finger wobbled as he took in the knife Pricilla had wedged to Marabella’s throat.
Hunkering closer to Marabella’s chair, Pricilla flashed a menacing smile. “Imagine that. You did come for her.” She dug the blade deeper, making Marabella wince. “Guess now we’ll see firsthand whose ass you’ll save. Hers…or yours.”
Marabella stared at Sam, her heart bursting with a strange combination of joy and terror. She shoved her panic to the farthest recesses of her mind. Sam was here. Alive. The horrible defeat that’d been her existence for the past several hours vanished into the ether.
Her attention drifted to the bright red stain spreading across the sleeve of his T-shirt. Just like that, her anxiety returned full force.
“You’re hurt.” She winced when the blade’s tip dug a fraction deeper into her skin.
His face unnaturally pale, Sam shifted his focus from the knife and looked into her eyes. The depth of emotion in his dark irises stole her breath. “I love you, Bella.”
She blinked back tears. “I know I told you there wasn’t any need to say it back, but I’m glad you did.”
His gaze never wavered from hers. “I plan to say it a lot more. Every damn day in fact. So hang in there, and trust that I’m going to get us through this.”
Thank goddess for their telepathic link, because nodding was out of the question with the knife currently jammed against her throat. “I know you will.”
Sam’s attention lifted toward Pricilla. “I’m giving you two seconds to remove that fucking knife.”