Page 78 of Gemini Hunted
Gradually, while Zara guards Lucius’ fallen wolf and hurls gigawatts of lightning at any hyena who dares venture into sight, it occurs to me I’m in considerable trouble. Debris from the compromised roof rains down around me like hail. Tiny nuggets of rock pepper my skin. I’m already bruised. Contused. Concussed. Confused. Now dust chokes my lungs and dries my mouth to cotton.
Very clearly, I must find shelter.
Somewhere.
The problem is, with the tunnel and the door both blocked, I’m not at all certain where to go. Levitation is, rather obviously, out of the question. The mere thought of trying to shift to my serpentine dragon form and fly out makes me so nauseous I nearly hurl.
Not to mention the fact that yet another dragon popping into existence in this battered cavern truly will bring the roof down.
Over the muffled chorus of Neo’s insistent and increasingly desperate cries, shouting my name with an urgency that makes my chest ache, the grinding crack of splitting rock drags my aching eyes up.
Another of those pillars—one of several smashed by Zara’s dragon—is swaying on its pedestal.
“Move yourderrière, darling,” I murmur. Not to the pillar, but to myself.
Like a drunk, I too sway, braced on hands and knees, witless as a cow. I simply can’t seem to gather my legs under me. Instead, as that compromised pillar trembles, teeters, then tips heavily to one side, I observe its majestic descent toward my unprotected body with an odd detachment.
My, my. That’s going to makesucha mess—
A hand closes around the back of my collar, grips a fistful of my uniform shirt and blazer, and drags me backward so forcefully I’m lifted to my feet. Stumbling in my glittery combat boots like I’m strapped into platform heels, I find myself hurled with considerable force into the tiny cavity created by two fallen pillars, one slanted over the other.
Head spinning so hard my eyes cross, I fling out my arms blindly. I collide against the rear wall behind the pillars with bruising force. Thanks to my outflung arms, I barely manage to avoid breaking my precious nose.
Behind me, my unseen rescuer crowds into the modest cavity. Behindhim,the deafening boom of the falling pillar makes my skull ring like a bell.
The crossed pillars overhead shudder violently. A cloud of dust fills the close air. Unless I’m mistaken (which rarely occurs), that final pillar has just sealed me into this alcove.
Together, in uncomfortably close quarters, with my unknown rescuer.
“For your information… there was no need to toss me… like a dwarf.” I lean my aching head into my crossed arms and pray I don’t humiliate myself by vomiting all over my favorite boots. “You needn’t have been… quite so rough.”
“I’m sure I beg to differ, Vasili Nikolayevich Romanov,” a cool silver voice says wryly. “You were about to be crushed under that baluster like a beetle under a boot.”
Truly, this day just keeps getting better.
Hearing Zephyr’s silky tenor stroke my senses, I barely swallow a groan. Of all men living, having this infernal creature witness my moment of weakness is really too dreadful to endure.
He may be my sworn enemy—my rival for Zara’s loveandRonin’s—but I never underestimate him. Not for a moment. To stand toe to toe with a creature of myth and legend like the Dark Fae King demands every atom of wit and strength and cunning I possess. At present, I’m not feeling at all my usual glorious self. Not to mention, I’m positively disheveled.
Now don’t laugh, darling. I’m terribly vain. I truly am. Even at such a moment.
Vanity is one of my many sins.
Faced with my miserable silence, the infernal Fae crowds closer. “Cat got your tongue?”
“For fuck’s sake. If you have an ounce of decency…don’ttalk to me about cats… at a time like this,” I mutter, speaking thickly with my cottony tongue.
Beyond our enclosure, through God knows how many feet of solid rock, the distant bellow of Zara’s dragon makes the walls tremble.
I fully intend to remain upright, the better to deal with this entire situation. But my legs have other ideas. My knees buckle without my consent.
Zephyr mutters an Unseelie oath.
I’m sinking to the floor like a swooning Victorian, laced too tightly into her corset, when his hard hands catch me under the arms and lower me gently to the ground.
I’ll admit, for a bit my world goes dark.
When my vision clears, my predicament has not demonstrably improved. My battered skull rings with pain, throbbing with the dull monotony of a church bell tolling at midnight. I’m still wounded. Still parched. Still wedged into this miniscule alcove, trapped between three fallen pillars and a wall.
