She marched away, her shoulders squared, her heart aching. Darn that man anyway! How did all this go spinning so far out of control? No matter how hateful Larem had been, he’d still risked his life to save hers.
Her father might think all Others were a subhuman life-form, but she now knew better. Clearly Larem was a man of honor, one who was suffering because of what that honor had just demanded of him. All because of her.
Okay, so she’d try one last time. But when she looked back, he was already walking away.
“Larem? About what you did—thank you.”
For a second she thought he might have slowed down, but he never glanced back. It was surprising how much that hurt. She ignored the renewed pain and moved on down the hall herself.
After everything that had happened, it was tempting to call it quits for the day. But she couldn’t—wouldn’t. No, she’d return to her office until she knew the situation was under control. If things were bad enough, as the Regents’ representative she might need to put in a call for assistance from another sector, either in the form of supplies or even for reinforcements until the Seattle Paladins were back at full strength.
A certain Kalith warrior wasn’t the only one who understood the meaning of duty.
Larem walked laps around the halls of the Paladin headquarters. How many times had he passed by Devlin’s office? Did it matter? No. It did occur to him that the circular route was symbolic of what his life had become—an endless struggle to get nowhere.
And wasn’t he just the perfect example of a pity party? That was another useful expression he’d learned from his roommate. He closed his eyes, praying that Lonzo was not among the dead. Granted, as a Paladin, he wouldn’t stay that way for long, but there was no guarantee he’d awaken the same man he’d been.
Larem managed a small smile while he thought about Lonzo Jones. The two of them had been thrown together by forces beyond their control. Larem had been dragged into this world because Lusahn q’Arc, the Sworn Guardian he’d served, had chosen a human lover—a Paladin at that—over any worthy male of their world. Not for the first time Larem wondered how different things would’ve been if he had gathered up the courage to speak for her himself, before her life had become entangled with Cullen Finley’s.
Instead, both she and Larem had been condemned to be executed as traitors. Lonzo had been part of the rescue party led by Cullen and Lusahn’s brother Barak. But as the group had fought its way back across the barrier, Lonzo had been badly injured, and Larem had saved the Paladin’s life. In payment of that debt, Lonzo had offered Larem a home and the use of his family name on the forged paperwork that made it possible for him to function in this world. Larem didn’t know which of them was more surprised by the fact they’d become fast friends.
What would his roomie think of Larem’s earlier stupidity? Not the part where he fought to save Sasha from those four Others—Lonzo would respect that. No, the part when he’d given in to the urge to kiss her again, not that Lonzo knew about the first time.
What had Larem been thinking? When he’d found her, she’d been only seconds from being raped and killed. Then what had he done? He cornered the woman in the elevator and forced himself on her. Shame made his skin run hot and then cold.
Although, as he thought back, at first she seemed startled, but within the space of a heartbeat or two, her mouth had softened, her tongue tangling with his. What had he hoped to accomplish by such foolishness? He’d be damned lucky if she didn’t issue orders to toss his carcass back across the barrier—or through it. Being fried would be just punishment for his twin sins of betraying his people and taking advantage of a woman in such a fragile state.
As he started yet another lap, the all clear finally sounded. For the first time in hours, the band of pressure across his chest relaxed enough for him to draw a full breath. He circled back to the elevators and waited. Once he knew how the Paladins had fared, he’d report in to Devlin and then go home.
He found a spot tucked out of the way of the emergency med techs waiting for the first batch of wounded to arrive. Only after the living were treated and stable would Laurel Young and the other Handlers start caring for the dead, hoping to ease their journey back to the living.
Larem might be able to help with that. His magic had certainly worked to bring Hunter Fitzsimon back from the dead. Somehow, though, he doubted Laurel or her boss would stand by and let Larem stab any of their patients through the heart on the off chance his magic would work again. Even so, his hand strayed to his Kalith knife and held on tight as the elevator doors slid open, bringing the scent of fresh blood.
Devlin walked out all but carrying a young Paladin who was new to Seattle. After surrendering his burden to the capable hands of the waiting techs, he patted the kid on the shoulder and murmured something that had the young recruit smiling through his pain.
Leave it to Devlin to know just the right thing to say. Then for a few seconds, the look of confidence on Devlin’s face slipped and his own exhaustion and pain showed through. Larem pushed his way past the growing crowd to the weary leader’s side.
Devlin’s eyes widened in surprise. “What do you want? You shouldn’t be anywhere near here right now.”
Larem latched on to Devlin’s thick arm and held on tight. “Stand still,” he ordered.
He quickly chanted one of the new spells he’d learned, pulling energy from the electric lights overhead. For a second their glow actually dimmed as he felt the healing power pour through him and into the Paladin.
“What the hell was that?” Devlin whispered as he jerked his arm free of Larem’s grasp.
For the first time in hours, Larem smiled. “That was me giving you enough energy to chew out my ass. What was I thinking?”
Devlin rested the point of his sword on the floor and leaned on the pommel for support. “And I want to do that why?”
Before Larem could reply, a voice in the back of the crowd yelled, “One of the Others escaped! Kill him!”