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  “Coming—it’s coming for us!” the other whispered and Emily had to agree.

  She’d never been able to decide what kind of insect Tragar’s boss in the Verrak resembled and now she saw it was a wasp. A huge, ten foot tall, horribly mutated wasp with enough poison to kill every single person here several times over.

  And she was its target.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Tragar looked up when he heard the frightened screams and a most unwelcome sight greeted his eyes. Tier Shan was coming over the crest of the hill, the light of battle glittering in his compound eyes.

  “Tier Shan.” He stepped away from Daro, who scrambled to his feet and backed up hastily, going for his sword. As soon as he found it, he ran to stand in front of Lit’all, blocking her protectively from the menacing shape. Tragar had the instant urge to do the same for Emily but he knew it was safer for her if he kept away—hopefully drawing Tier Shan towards himself and far from her.

  “Oath Breaker. Click-click.” Tier Shan’s breath hissed between his mandibles—clearly he was in a rage.

  “What are you speaking of?” Tragar demanded even as his narsh began to burn unbearably. “I broke no oath.”

  “Then why do you and the girl both still live? Why had no blood been spilled? No life been taken?” The Vash`aran clicked his mandibles angrily. “Why have you not fulfilled your contract?”

  “Because it was called off!” Tragar protested, frowning. “An emissary of Two, the Dark Kindred male who placed the contract in the first place, called and told me as much. He gave the contract termination code as well.”

  “Lies!” Tier Shan hissed, still advancing. “I was called not a solar hour ago and told that the contract was still unfulfilled! You swore to me it would be done—you lied! Click-click.”

  “Tier Shan—” But Tragar got no further chance to explain. The huge Vash`aran launched himself into the arena, stinger out, mandibles slashing.

  Tragar jumped back quickly, narrowly missing being impaled by the venom tipped barb at the end of Tier Shan’s stinger.

  “Stop this!” he roared. “There’s been a mistake—listen to me!”

  But Tier Shan was past listening. Watching the way his compound eyes cycled from green to gold to blue to a deep, angry red, Tragar knew his superior was in his battle rage. He would not emerge from it until his target was dead.

  And Emily is his target, he thought grimly. Slowly he circled, trying to draw those burning compound eyes away from the female he loved.

  At first it seemed to be working, Tier Shan moved with him, his stinger dripping venom which hissed like acid as it hit the dusty grass. Tragar drew him away, bit by bit, to the far side of the circle. He wished he could shout at Emily to run but he knew that would only draw attention to her. As it was, when he dared to glance at her, he saw she was sitting on the bench, frozen in place with her eyes a pure, burning gold.

  Gods, he had to finish this quickly! If she entered Hel, the last stage of her Tenrah and there was no one to tend to her and breed her, she would die for certain. As for the High Priestess denying her access to the breeding suite, they would just see about that. Tragar was fully prepared to fight his way in if need be, although how he could hold off the Temple Guards and breed Emily at the same time he had no idea.

  But there were more immediate problems at hand. Such as how to kill Tier Shan without getting killed himself.

  “Listen to me,” he said, trying again to reason with the huge Vash`aran. “Two’s emissary called me. He—”

  Before he could finish, Tier Shan lunged. But not at Tragar, as he had expected. His thorax twisted at the impossibly small wasp waist and his four, long, chitenous arms shot out, gripping Emily by her shoulders and hips and lifting her high above the benches.

  Before anyone sitting around her could even react, Emily was high in the air, held firmly by four insectile claws which brought her closer and closer to Tier Shan’s clicking mandibles.

  “The target—the true target. Click-click,” he hissed. “You are the cause of all this trouble and now you shall die!”

  “No!” Tragar roared. Emily still hadn’t opened her mouth, not even to scream. But he could see her eyes, burning a brilliant steady gold and filled with terror. Her face was pale as paper and her hair had gone from blonde to deep, raven black. The shock and fear of this moment had sent her body racing right into the fourth stage of her Tenrah—she would die if she wasn’t bred soon after.

  No, she’s going to die when Tier Shan bites off her head, shouted a voice in his head. Unless you save her!

  Tragar darted forward, hacking and slashing with his blade but somehow Tier Shan parried his blows with his long, black stinger, all the while holding Emily high of reach.

  His reflexes were incredibly quick, honed by years of practice but try as he might, Tragar couldn’t get inside the Vash`aran’s defenses. If he’d had his blaster, he could have burned a hole straight through the bastard’s striped abdomen and killed him but all he had was the ancient spiked sword and there was no time to get anything else. Not if Emily was going to live and every second that looked less and less likely.

  Tier Shan was pulling her closer and closer to his gaping mandibles. Their serrated edges gleamed jaggedly in the sunlight and Tragar saw that in another moment it would be too late.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw the two new Kindred males who had come looking for Emily raise their weapons—everything had happened so quickly they were just now reacting. He wished he could wait for them but he couldn’t.

  There was only one way—he had to stop trying to deflect the stinger. He needed his sword for stabbing and if he kept using it to deflect the deadly barb, he’d never get an opening.

  Taking a deep breath, he rushed forward, straight at the venom-tipped stinger. He felt it pierce his side just as his sword bit into the bloated, swollen abdomen. Ignoring the burning pain as the venom pumped into his body, Tragar gripped the hilt harder and ripped downward, unzipping the Vash`aran’s guts in a long, ragged line. Acidic venom gushed out at his feet, hissing like a nest of angry snakes and eating a crater in the grassy ground.

  Tier Shan gave a shrill, bellowing shriek and staggered back, his four arms dropping to his sides. Emily fell from his grip, tumbling through the air to land in Tragar’s outstretched arms.

  He left the sword where it was, buried in Tier Shan’s gaping abdomen, and caught her more by instinct and luck than any kind of skill. He staggered under the impact, though he managed to keep her from hitting the ground, and then set her gently on her feet.

  So weak, he thought dizzily. Should be able to catch her with no problem. What’s wrong with me?

  What was wrong was the deadly Vash`aran venom coursing through his blood stream. Even now he could feel his hands and feet going numb and knew it was only a matter of time before paralysis spread to his entire body. Still, he somehow managed to keep on his feet and pull Emily away from Tier Shan’s thrashing body.

  The huge Vash`aran had fallen on his side and was convulsing wildly, his compound eyes bright purple with agony. Clearly he was in bad shape, his venom leaking out upon the ground. Tragar knew that the bright green liquid was also his blood—if he lost enough of it, he would never recover. And from the looks of the browned and withering grass, he was nearly bled dry. This entire arena would be too polluted to use for cycles to come—Tier Shan was no longer a threat.

  “No! It cannot be! Click-click,” Tragar heard him hissing to himself. “I cannot die like this…I have never mated! I have never passed on my seed. I cannot—”

  But the last word ended in a long hissing gurgle. With a final click-click of his mandibles, the enormous Vash`aran lay still.

  Relieved, Tragar tried to lead Emily further from the massive, insectile corpse just in case there were any last death-shocks. But to his dismay, he didn’t even take a single step before he stumbled and fell to his knees. His feet were so numb he couldn’t feel them anymore.

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