Chapter 12

Chapter

Twelve

R ixx thundered down the close alleys, dodging trash and uneven paving stones as he was led, not by his memory of the path he'd taken or where Myrria's house was, but by the growing fear pulling him toward it. His own heart pounded with terror as he rounded a corner and his gaze landed on a couple struggling at the far end. He didn't pause his pace as he raced forward, knowing without a doubt that Myrria was the female thrashing in the man's arms. Her fear was so palpable he could taste the metallic bite of it.

"Don't make me hurt you now," the man slurred as he yanked Myrria hard.

A growl erupted from Rixx moments before he grabbed the stranger's arm and wrested it from Myrria. Once the man had stumbled back, Rixx eyed him. He was old and withered, but his eyes were hard and brutal.

"Find your own," he spat out, lurching toward Myrria again. "This one's mine."

"This one belongs to no one." Rixx bared his teeth, feeling a surge of primal protectiveness rush over him. "And you will not touch her."

Rixx might have been wounded and weaker than usual, but his rage made him forget all of that. He was strong enough to fight off this drunkard and protect Myrria.

The man bellowed his frustration, flicked his gaze to Myrria, and then charged Rixx. With a quick sidestep, the Dothvek dodged the attack and spun, hooking his arm around the man's neck from behind. He was considerably taller and broader than the old man who ineffectually slapped at Rixx's arm.

Fury pounded through Rixx as he held the man in a chokehold, deaf to the gasps until the futile slapping stopped. Then he relaxed his hold and released his grip, letting the man collapse to the ground.

Only when the haze of anger faded and the buzzing in his ears quieted did he hear Myrria hitch in a breath behind him. He pivoted to her, quickly assessing that her coat was not torn and she had no visible injuries. The fear he'd felt from her had faded to a dull throb, and he swallowed down the bitter taste of it. "Are you unhurt?"

She nodded without speaking, her gaze locked on her assailant in a heap on the ground. She took a step closer to Rixx. "Is he dead? Did you…?"

"No." Rixx knew he had released the man before the blood had stopped pumping through his heart, even though a part of him had wanted to keep squeezing until the man was cold and lifeless. "He is not dead."

Myrria did not ask how he was so sure. Maybe she did not care, or maybe she hoped the man was dead. A part of Rixx wished he was. The fewer men like that in the universe, the better.

Awareness crept over Rixx, tingling the nape of his neck and causing him to be alert to the sounds coming from beyond the alley. They were alone for the moment, but nearby laughter and scraping footsteps told him they would not be for long. "We need to leave." He grabbed Myrria's hand. "I need to get you home."

He noticed that her hand trembled in his and was cool to the touch. Rixx tugged her forward, but she moved woodenly, as if her feet were rooted to the spot. Her gaze had not left the crumbled figure, and Rixx wondered if she was in some sort of shock.

There was no time to snap her from her stupor or wait for her to emerge from it. They needed to put distance between them and the unconscious man before he woke or before someone came upon them. He already had a price on his head. He did not need another reason to be hunted.

Rixx bent down and scooped Myrria into his arms, surprised that she was so light and that his injury didn't ache as he walked them both swiftly down the narrow passageway. He suspected that the rage from the fight had given him a burst of strength and energy, enough to overcome the weakness from his wounds. He also suspected that it would not last long, so he took long strides down the alleyways.

Myrria hadn't protested when he'd picked her up, but she did manage to point him in the right direction when he took a wrong turn. There were no more people lingering in the alleys or loitering in recessed doorways, and the sound of voices faded into nothing. After rushing past rows of dingy fabric awnings and underneath strings of drying laundry that crisscrossed overhead like streamers, they reached a familiar door.

Rixx did not put Myrria's feet on the floor until they were inside and the door was shut behind them. The small house was still dark and quiet with the chair that had barred the door pushed off to one side.

Rixx's pounding heart slowed, although he was not sure if it was racing because of the fear of being caught or the shock that he had sensed Myrria's emotions so powerfully that he had been able to track her as if she was one of his Dothvek brothers. If he was being truthful to himself, he'd felt her fear even stronger than he would have a fellow Dothvek's. He'd experienced it as if it was his own.

Impossible, he told himself, as the rush of power finally started to drain from him and he staggered to the table.

"Well?" Myrria's sharp voice stopped him. "Aren't you going to explain yourself?"