Tara (14 page)

Fuck, she’s fast
.

He was gawking at her, he knew it, his mouth open with his hand still holding the knife down at his side. Alaric started to move towards her to help finish them off when the first man stood up and charged her, catching her around her waist and slamming her into the wall. “TARA!” He shouted and ran forward.

Tara’s breath had kicked out of her chest when she hit the wall, which he knew left her with nothing when the asshole wrapped his hand around her throat and cracked her head back into the wall. As he rushed towards her, prepared to gut the man where he stood, bands of light flickered to life around her wrists, growing steadily brighter.

The bands. She had warned him of this, the asshole was trying to lay a claim to her.

No. Fucking. Chance.

Tara braced her arm and brought it down against the asshole’s arms, trying to break his hold on her throat. The first attempt just shifted his arms, and he gripped her throat harder. The second time her arms came down just as Alaric charged forward and tackled the guy to the ground, driving his shoulder hard into the man’s stomach.

He growled as he slammed his fist into the guy’s face, again and again, and then he remembered the knife beside him and slid it home between the man’s ribs. “You will
never
get her,” he spat into the man’s face as he groaned in pain. The asshole tried to shout so he covered his nose and mouth, holding the bloody knife as he watched the man panic.

Yeah, it sucks not to be able to breathe, doesn’t it, asshole?

The first man rolled to try and get up but Tara kicked him in the face, the brutal crunch of the impact making Alaric smile. The man turned away, moaning and gripping his face, and if his nose wasn’t broken before, it was now.

“You’re going to regret that!” He threatened through the blood in his mouth.

“What am I going to regret? Be specific.” She stood over him, taunting, and he spit blood at her but she didn’t even flinch.
She was perfect
.

“Boss already said whoever brings you in gets to do whatever they want. You’re just making it worse for yourself.” He was talking through the weight of his hand as he tried to put pressure on his nose, while his other hand pressed against his side – she’d probably cracked a rib with one of those brilliant moves.

“Your boss isn’t getting her, asshole. Ever.” Alaric growled through his teeth and punched the guy under him when he jerked his head out of his grip, spewing curses at them both. “Shut up.” He started to frisk the guy with his free hand, removing a gun from his pants so he stored his knife to check the weapon. Gun still had rounds left, but the man didn’t have any cuffs on him.
Shit
. That meant they needed to get them back into the hotel room so he could tie them up and get information from them.

Then they could find out who was after Tara and end them first.

Tara was impressed by the brutal efficiency Alaric had used to take down the first man, and even now he was operating cool and calm. Better yet? He’d let her take the lead. Let her take the men down, and it had been thrilling to fight again. To feel for just a moment like she was Eltera’s warrior again, a real Faeoihn. With a sigh she turned to check on the second man and realized he was already sitting up, his gun raised and pointed towards Alaric.

“NO!” She lunged and grabbed the gun on instinct and she felt it go off, the metal jerked back out of her hands just as a searing pain hit her stomach.

He’d shot her.

Fuck
.

By the gods, this was worse than a blade.

Everything after that happened very quickly, and very slowly, at the same time.

Tara watched as Alaric lunged for her, and he caught her around the waist so she didn’t hit the floor, the second man went to his friend to check his wounds as Alaric started dragging her backwards towards their hotel room. She stumbled, but he held her up against him, his arm holding the gun on the two men who scrambled down the hallway towards the stairs as he fired once and then again.

The soft sounds of the muffled gun kept them at bay.

Alaric kicked the door to the room open and held her against the wall by her shoulder as he fired once more and then kicked it shut. He picked up some weird metal contraption and pressed it into the crack between the frame and the door, waiting for it to light up green before he let go, then he turned towards her and she could see he was freaking out. No calm composure now.

“Tara? Tara – Tara are you okay? Where’s the bullet? Did it go through?” He was babbling and running his hand across her stomach, and
not
in the way he had been in the car.

What a way to end their evening
.

“Alaric –” She mumbled but he interrupted her again.

“Did it go through? Tara, are you okay?” His hands were behind her, his fingers pressing into the skin of her back as he sought an exit wound that wasn’t there. She grabbed his wrist hard to stop him.

“Alaric, stop. I’ll be fine, dawn is coming. You need to get me into the tub before I bleed all over the carpet.” Tara tried to speak clearly but her teeth were chattering slightly, making it difficult.

She was in shock.

He listened to her though, pulling her into the bathroom and helping her to lie down in the tub. His hands were bloody when he brought them to his face, and she wanted to tell him to stop but he’d already wiped her blood across his cheek. “Tara, why did you –”

“I will be fine. Dawn can’t be that far away, and I will survive this. A bullet can’t kill me.”
At least I hope not
. She’d never actually been shot. Stabbed? Yes. Tortured? Yep. Starved? Drowned? Whipped? Beaten? Quadruple check.

But, no one since the invention of guns had felt the need to shoot her, and dammit, it hurt.

She laughed a little through chattering teeth. “We need to break this habit of me bleeding in your bathroom.” She gasped as he pressed a towel against her stomach, the pain shocking through her and making her contemplate throwing up or passing out.

“Not funny, Tara.” Alaric groaned and stood up in the bathroom, he still looked so handsome even red cheeked and panicking. “What can I do?” He grabbed his face again.

“You could stop wiping blood on your face to start with.” She said and pointed at his hands just as another round of chills shook her. If Eltera ever wanted to make an early light show, maybe miscalculate the time zone, this would be a great time.

“Christ.” Alaric turned around and saw himself in the mirror. He turned on the water and started scrubbing his hands, and then his face.

“Eltera will heal me at dawn, just like she did before.” Tara spoke through vibrating teeth, it was hard to sound confident with the shaking.

“Can he heal this?” Alaric was wiping his face with a clean towel and he looked pale. Probably not as pale as she was.

“She. My goddess is a she, and yes, she has healed much worse.” Tara shifted in the tub, glad that it was one of those large ones with slanted sides, but her stomach screamed at her in response. “If there’s a blanket that we can ruin, I’d like it.”

“I’m sorry.” He cursed. “Of course, I’ll get one. I’m not thinking straight.”

Chapter Sixteen

Alaric forced himself back into the living room and finally saw it for the first time. Those two had torn it apart, the box of clothes for her were scattered. He grabbed the already ruined robe from the floor, which had been hidden in the box before, and then went to the bedroom closet. They had broken open the room safe like it was a toy, which, really, it was. Alaric could have broken into it as well.

His laptop was in pieces, clearly stomped into the ground. One of his guns was with those men, the other was in the bathroom. He grabbed the extra blanket from the top of the closet and walked over all the destruction to get back to the bathroom.

She had moved so fast when she’d taken them down. Each of them had probably been twice her weight, but there hadn’t been a wasted movement. He tried to imagine her on some old battlefield, just dirt and grass, and her moving through opponents like they didn’t phase her.

She’d smiled at him like she had been proud.

Then that guy had gone after her and her wrists had started to glow with thick bands of light, the same golden color she lit up with in the mornings.
That
had been what she’d warned him about, and he’d reacted a little stronger than he’d meant to. He’d only meant to restrain him, but the knife had been in his hand, and it had been easy. The guy was alive though, and Alaric wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Especially since he’d threatened her, called her a whore.

Maybe the guy would bleed out. That would teach them a lesson that he,
they
, weren’t easy to come after.

When he got back to the bathroom he gripped the doorframe. She was pale and sweating – but somehow she still smiled at him. A real one.

She’d taken a bullet for him, and immortal or not she was in pain. A lot of it.

“Dammit, Tara, why did you do that?” He kneeled beside the tub and put the robe over her first, then the blanket. He was tucking it around her when she laughed a little.

“Something tells me mortals don’t get up from gunshot wounds a couple of hours later.” She tilted her head to look up at him, and her eyes were still crystal water, even if they were a little dimmer from the pain.

He muttered under his breath about her risking herself, and then he took her high heels off. They had left red marks on her feet and he rubbed them absent-mindedly. “You shouldn’t have done it, I’m not worth it.” He pushed himself up from the tub, guilt wracking him as her eyes followed him. “You could have been free.”

Tara shook her head. “I wouldn’t have been free, Alaric, that’s not how it works. Someone would have claimed me eventually, I don’t get to be free.” Her breath hitched and she winced. “And you are worth it, I don’t want you dead. I want you out of this mess and I want you to live a long life.”

“You are insane, you’re acting like this is no big deal. Like getting
shot
is no big deal. I think you’re a little delusional from blood loss.” Alaric leaned back against the door to the standing shower, the one he’d seen her outline in the night before.

“I know you’re a good man. You being assigned to bring me to this client? That wasn’t your choice, Alaric. It would have happened with or without you, and others would have taken full advantage. So stop arguing with me while I’m bleeding.” She smiled again at him and he felt a ridiculous laugh bubble up in his chest.

“I won’t argue with you right now, but only because you’re bleeding. Are you okay?” Alaric noticed she had stopped shivering, but her eyes were closing.

“Mmmhmm, sleepy.” Tara slurred her words and then she was out. Alaric pulled out his phone to check the time, a little after 4:00am. He didn’t know when dawn would come, but at least she wouldn’t be in pain too much longer. There were two text message notifications – Luca and Claude.

Unlocking his phone Alaric moved back into the living room and dropped into the chair to read the one from Luca first:
Will the newspaper get delivered tomorrow?

Alaric tapped out a quick reply:
yes, tomorrow.

Flipping over to Claude’s message, his stomach dropped. It read:
Did you forget the cameras? I saw the kiss. Thought you were just delivering her. Liars aren’t welcome in my club.

His heart was racing when he responded:
just a kiss, she was thanking me for the dancing. we still on for papers?

Alaric groaned to himself and sank down in the chair. His feet were on top of some of the clothes from the box and he knew he needed to clean up before she woke up. He couldn’t focus though. Claude kept shining a light on the dark places in their situation. He was saying all of the things Alaric had thought but wouldn’t admit to.

And, honestly, if those guys hadn’t been here, he would have done a lot more than kiss her.

His phone buzzed a few times against his leg and he looked at it again.

Luca:
Be ready to move when I call.

Claude:
if I get the money, yes, but don’t call me again

He wanted to call Luca and yell at him for doing this to him, for putting him in this situation – but he also wanted to thank him for meeting her. For getting to have tonight, which had almost been perfect.

Other than her getting shot.

Alaric shook out his hand and looked at the redness of his knuckles. They might bruise, and that was all the damage to him. She had joked about keeping him safe, but then she had, and she wasn’t even upset. She’d heal in a few hours, and didn’t seem bothered by what had happened. Didn’t seem bothered by the fact that she was laying in a bathtub bleeding, because of him.

He groaned to himself and texted Luca the amount to transfer to Claude before he got up to start gathering her clothes, loosely folding them and setting them on the couch. They would need to move hotels, he’d need to use another alias, and he needed to sleep at some point. Alaric lifted a shirt off the floor and underneath it was her iPod, one of those assholes had dropped a boot onto it with enough force to crack the screen and the case. It was the only thing she’d had with her in that cell, and she’d been so concerned with charging it – and it was destroyed.

Damn them.

When the room was somewhat put back together Alaric grabbed his gun, checked it and leaned back against the wall outside of the bathroom. He’d learned to sleep anywhere and with himself between the door and her he felt comfortable enough to catch a little shuteye. He’d be useless without it.

“Leonidas –” Alaric snapped awake to the sound of Tara whimpering in the bathroom behind him, the same name from the night before slipping out. Her voice was so sad, and when he stood over her he could see her eyebrows pulled together, a pained look on her face. Which was more likely from the gunshot wound in her abdomen, but could have also been due to whatever she was thinking about.

Or
whoever
she was thinking about.

Alaric crouched down by the tub and laid his hand on her shoulder. She jumped awake and then winced, letting out a stream of curses as she tweaked the wound.

“What’s wrong? Are they back?” Tara asked through the pain, her teeth gritting and her breathing coming in shallow pants.

“No, I’m sorry, you were calling out in your sleep. I was just checking on you.” Alaric pulled his hand back and she sighed and relaxed back against the tub. She was still so pale, but she wasn’t shaking anymore. Despite the blood loss she somehow managed to look ethereal and beautiful. Her blonde hair pooled around her head and her eyes were bright blue as they met his.

“I always have nightmares if I fall asleep in pain. Sometimes even if I don’t.  It’s why Gianni kept me in a different room. Sorry if I woke you.” Her voice was so empty, and his chest hurt imagining how many times she must have fallen asleep in pain to even mention it.

Alaric cleared his throat. “Who is Leonidas? That’s the second time you’ve called out for him.”

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Alaric.” Tara said flatly, looking up at him through her lashes.

“I’m not jealous, I’m worried about you. What happened to him?” His response had a little more bite to it than he intended.
Maybe because you are jealous
. Ugh.

“Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answers to.” Tara redirected her eyes to the ceiling. He couldn’t tell if the hollow sound to her voice was from the nightmare or the pain – or both.

“I don’t care if I don’t like the answer, I want to know more about you.”

“I thought you didn’t like to know about your jobs.” Tara retorted.

“Why are you evading the question?” Alaric knew he should let it drop, but he just couldn’t. Tara almost looked like she would cry. After everything he’d put her through she hadn’t cried. She hadn’t even cried when she was shot.

Who was Leonidas if he could reduce her to this?

Tara took a breath and then spoke very quietly, “Because if Eltera were to judge me on anything I’ve done in my long life, I fear most that she would judge me for what happened to Leonidas.”

“Why?” Alaric tried to stop himself from pushing her further, but he had to know, because the pain in her voice had very little to do with the gunshot.

“Because he died because I was weak.” She laughed bitterly, still not looking at him. “You wouldn’t know what that’s like, would you?”

“I’d know better than you think.” His carefully organized mind was flipped over as he remembered blood. Pale skin. Someone screaming while a low voice kept saying they were
sorry, so sorry
.

“What do you mean?” She spoke softly and he met her eyes reluctantly.

“Make a deal with me. If I tell you my story, you’ll tell me who Leonidas is?” It was a gamble, but his curiosity had the better of him.

“Yes.” Tara didn’t break eye contact, and it was too late for him to back out now. They’d made a deal. He would share his failure, and she would tell him about hers.

Great idea, idiot
.

Alaric let his mind shuffle through the old memories. Bits and pieces of the worst night of his life laid out on the floor of his mind like shattered pieces of something that used to be whole. He steeled himself and took a breath as he prepared to rip open old wounds. “My father was a drunk. A violent drunk with a shit factory job, and he hated his life. He hated me and my sister for existing, and he hated my mum for having us.” Just saying the words out loud lifted his memories up like full color photographs – too many nights with no food in the house, of his father spending his whole check at the pub, of his mother crying in her room at night. He chanced looking at Tara, prepared for pity – which would make him nauseous – but she was just listening. Her strength was what made him able to continue.

“My sister was seven and was on holiday with my aunt, I was supposed to go but I’d been in trouble at school for fighting. I was twelve at the time. So I was at home in my room, well it was me and Catherine’s room, when he got home late one night. He was shouting, and so drunk he was impossible to understand. I buried my head under my pillow trying to block him out. Even when I heard my mum talking to him –” Alaric stopped and turned to put his back to the tub, he couldn’t look at her and tell her what happened next.

“You don’t have to, Alaric.” Tara’s voice was smooth. It didn’t hold a hint of judgment, just an offer to stop, but all the pieces were already out in his head.

“I agreed to tell you. It’s fine.” He took a breath that shook more than he meant it to. “I heard them fighting in their room, and I heard him hit her, like he did sometimes when he drank. And I didn’t do
anything
. I stayed still in bed, as if being motionless meant it wasn’t happening. Then I heard her screaming, and she called for me. She yelled my name and I sat up in bed, but I didn’t go to her. I didn’t run to her room to try and help her. She was my mother and I just sat there and listened.”

His head flashed images. The pattern of his sheets, the map the street light made on his floor. He remembered how long he had stood at his bedroom door, with his hand on the doorknob trying to stop crying so his father wouldn’t slap him for being a baby. He wondered how long she’d lain there by the time he finally opened the door and crept down the hallway to push open their bedroom door.