Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 42969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
“Fuck!” he growled and batted it aside. But a moment later he suddenly fell to his knees, groaning.
“Kross? Kross!” Sylvie took his face in her hands, staring anxiously into his changeable eyes. She couldn’t see what color they were in the dim light, but she could tell the big Kindred was in a bad way. “Kross?” she said again. “Talk to me!”
“Hurts.” His deep voice was husky and faint. “Fucking…hurts.”
Sylvie glared up at Barbarous, who was smirking. Rage rushed through her—she wanted to wipe that smug expression off his face with her fist!
“What did you do to him?” she demanded. “What did you give him?”
“A fast-acting poison,” Barbarous said blandly. “If you help me get him back to the lab, I might be able to save him. Or you can simply leave him here and go back to your ship.” He shrugged his bony shoulders as though he didn’t care either way. “It’s up to you.”
“Of course I’m not going to leave Kross to die!” Sylvie snapped angrily.
“Then if I were you, I’d try to help him up.” Barbarous waved the blaster at her. “Now.”
Kross was seven feet tall and extremely muscular—Sylvie wasn’t sure how she got him on his feet. But somehow she managed to push him up until he found his footing.
“Go…Princess,” he muttered as she draped one of his long arms around her shoulders. “Want you to…get away.”
“No, I’m not leaving you!” Hot tears pooled in Sylvie’s eyes and ran down her cheeks, mixing with the cold raindrops that were still coming down. “We’re in this together, Kross. Until…until the very end.”
“Such a touching sentiment. However, if I were you, I’d hurry—that poison can’t be counteracted after it’s been in the bloodstream for fifteen minutes,” Barbarous said dryly.
Sylvie shot him a look of pure hatred as she slipped her arm around Kross’s waist.
“Come on—we have to hurry,” she told him tightly.
Somehow they made their way, staggering through the downpour, back to Kross’s prison cell. The minute they got inside, Sylvie helped him to the bed and he fell across it like a dead man.
“Kross, are you all right?” she patted his cheek—he was lying on his stomach with his face turned to the side.
“Huuuurts!” he groaned and his big body convulsed.
Sylvie turned back to Barbarous, who was still standing there, just inside the door, holding the blaster.
“All right, we’re here—now give him the antidote like you promised!”
“Ah, but I never promised any such thing.” Reaching out, he slapped the button beside the door. Immediately, the red walls of pain energy blazed up around them, making Sylvie feel like she was trapped in the middle of an encroaching fire.
“Wait—what are you doing?” she demanded.
Barbarous was already leaving the tree-trunk lab but he turned to look at her.
“Why, I’m going back to my control center, of course. This experiment has only just begun and it’s going to be my best one yet!”
“What experiment? What about the poison? What about the antidote?” Sylvie asked desperately. “Please—you have to save him!”
Barbarous smirked at her.
“I don’t have to do anything. But don’t worry, my dear—that wasn’t poison I gave him. It was a specially tailored formula I’ve been working on that should provoke some rather interesting effects shortly.”
“What effects? What did you do to him?” Sylvie demanded.
“I may decide to explain further…or I may not,” Barbarous told her. “But first, I must go get out of these wet things before I catch my death of cold.”
Then he closed the door behind him, leaving Kross groaning on the bed and Sylvie with no idea how to help him.
19
KROSS
“Kross? Kross, are you okay? Please, tell me you’re okay!”
The soft, familiar voice was distant, as though whoever was talking to him was calling from a long way away. Kross struggled to answer, but his voice didn’t want to work. His throat was burning—everything was burning.
It felt like something was at work inside him. Or maybe somethings, he thought distantly. Many millions of tiny somethings that were acting on him—changing him in some strange and irrevocable way.
He groaned and tried to move, but movement made the burning worse. What was wrong with him? What the fuck had that bastard Barbarous done to him?
“Kross? Please, be okay. Please…please don’t leave me!”
He forced his eyes to open even though it hurt and looked up. Sylvia’s worried face was hovering over his own, her lovely eyes filled with anxiety.
“Kross?” she asked, her voice thick with tears and desperation.
“Can’t…talk,” he rasped. “Hurts.”
“I know. I’m so sorry!” She stroked his face gently, her eyes glimmering with tears.
Kross wished fiercely that she’d escaped when she had a chance. He didn’t want her stuck here with him, especially when was almost sure he was dying. There was no way the burning pain inside him could mean anything else. But before he went, there was something he wanted to say.