Soon he reached the clearing. There was no reason to question whether or not he'd reached the right spot because Nolan was there, arms crossed over his chest as he waited. There were knives in his hands.
To aid the queen in case of trouble, or to kill her? Dallas had to wonder again.
He didn't slow but circled the area, too fast to be seen, keeping Nolan in sight as he debated what to do. Nolan had told Bride that the virus had helped Nolan dodge stun rays last time, but it had been Nolan himself who had absorbed the stun without actually freezing. Therefore, stun still wouldn't work.
He could kill him, he supposed. There was no dousing pyre-fire. But no. No longer was Nolan better off dead. Not when a cure for his disease might be floating through his system. He was a very valuable lab rat right now.
Dallas couldn't challenge him straight out, though, because the guy could go invisible, and then Dallas would have to fight him with infrareds, only able to see Nolan, oblivious to everything else around them. And if Nolan ran, the infrareds would be useless because Dallas couldn't give chase with them on. He'd slam into tree after tree. Closing in as they were, his friends could catch the bastard—maybe.
Maybe wasn't good enough.
A sheen of sweat broke out over his skin. He was going to have to knock the otherworlder out with Hector's cocktail. Or try to. While he waited for the stuff to work, if it worked, he'd have to pin Nolan down, never releasing him, never giving him the chance to escape.
A bright yellow and violet light suddenly hit the center of the clearing, as if the sun were throwing off heat missiles. The wind picked up, rustling leaves together. A soft whistle pierced the air.
Nolan straightened, stiffened.
Shit, out of time, Dallas thought. I have to incapacitate him before she arrives. He launched forward, fingers tightening around one of the syringes as he closed in on Nolan. The moment he reached him, he shoved the needle straight into the man's neck and pushed.
The warrior fell, shocked, the empty syringe buried deep. His body spasmed as Dallas kept him in a bear hug. Hot breath sawed in and out of his throat and lungs. His limbs shook.
"Mistake," the otherworlder gasped. "Big mistake. You won't be able to defeat her without me." But he didn't get up, and his eyelids closed. Every muscle in his body slackened.
Easier than Dallas had thought.
As Dallas released him, his own strength drained, as if he too had been injected with a sedative. He knew he hadn't. What the hell? He crawled to his knees, certain he wouldn't be able to stand and hold his own weight.
Hurry, he wanted to shout to the other AIR agents. Something's ... wrong... "You want to defeat me?" a soft voice said from behind him.
Dallas twisted to face the new speaker and groaned at the dizziness that assaulted him. That dizziness failed to dim the radiance of his visitor, and his jaw dropped. Standing before him was a goddess, an elfin queen. She had long pale hair tucked behind her pointed ears, chocolate eyes too big for her face, which somehow made her even lovelier, and heart-shaped lips. Her skin was several shades lighter than Dallas's, but still sun-kissed. She wore a long white robe that draped one shoulder and fell over her slender body in waves.
There seemed to be true concern on her face. True sadness at the thought that someone wanted to destroy her. This woman couldn't be Nolan's queen. His tormentor. The one responsible for the obliteration of several worlds and the death of the humans foolish enough to bed Nolan and his brethren.
"I'm sorry I had to drain you," she said, and she sounded as if she meant it. "I didn't want you to hurt me as you hurt my servant." Behind her were four warriors, all as handsome as Nolan, with the same bright eyes and symmetrical features. Each was heavily armed, watching impassively, ready to act when ordered.
Her servant. She was indeed Nolan's queen. Though everything inside Dallas screamed not to hurt so exquisite a creature—no wonder Nolan had been torn—he drew on a stubborn reserve of strength he hadn't known he possessed and whipped out his pyre-gun, thumb quickly setting it to kill, and started shooting. Better that they all died in this circle, even himself, than that they were unleashed on the world.
The men fell, new holes burned in their chests, their hearts scorched and unworkable, but Dallas's pyre-fire never touched the girl. Woman. Whatever she was. Killer. Monster. Yes. A lovely monster ... gliding toward him, a frown on her delicate face. Irresistible, he thought. Mine.
Every time he'd aimed at her, the barrel moved away of its own accord, as though they were both magnets and couldn't line up together. Or perhaps he switched his aim before pulling the trigger. He didn't want to hurt her.
What would it feel like to touch her skin? To shift her hair between his fingers, those locks that reminded him of rays of sunshine?
"You didn't kill me, so I'm not going to kill you," she said in that lilting voice of hers. The word yet slithered between them, unsaid but there all the same. "I need to get settled, anyway. But when my need is upon me, I will find you. Very soon, I hope."
She reached out and traced a fingertip along his cheek, his jaw. Each point of contact crackled as if
ice crystals bloomed. "So strong ... so handsome ..."
He wanted to flinch, but couldn't force himself to move. The world was going dark ... so dark ... her beauty fading from his view. A scream lodged in his throat. Don't leave me. Stay. The desire shocked him. She was evil, yet he wanted her near him, touching him some more. That cold was as addicting as a drug.
"Dallas, man. Wake up. Good job, man. You got him. You got Nolan."
"Wh-what?" He blinked open his eyes. He was lying flat on his back—when had he fallen?—and the pale blue of the sky came into view, thick clouds hanging in a line. He angled his head, peering at the clearing. It was empty. "Where is she? Where are the bodies?"
Hector frowned. "What she? The queen? Was she here? And what bodies?”
“The girl, yes, the queen. The guards. Four guards. I shot them. Burned them."
"There weren't any bodies when I got here, and they didn't go invisible because half of us were wearing our infrareds and there was no body heat in the area. And if you'd shot them, we would have seen the line of your fire."
Slowly he sat up, fighting the return of the dizziness. "They were here. I swear to God they were here."
Hector patted his shoulder. "You were out like a coma victim when we came through the trees. Sure you didn't dream it? Your weapon is holstered, and it hasn't been fired."
"It wasn't a dream," he insisted.
"Okay, okay." Concerned, Hector slid an arm around his waist and hefted him up.