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Brides of the Kindred Page 8
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His heart sank as he recognized it for what it was—a Scourge fighter. They used a kind of black hole technology that made their ships impossible to actually see, although his ship’s sensors could spot them well enough. To the naked eye they showed up more as an absence of light than any real, definable shape that the eye could trace. How many of them? And why do they want us in the first place? Aloud he said, “Hold on, Sophia—we have company.”
“What? Who?” Her eyes were wide as she peered at the viewscreen.
“Scourge ships. You can’t really see them.” Sylvan began evasive action, forcing the wounded shuttle through all kinds of maneuvers, trying to make them a more difficult target. “But they’re there. I’m just telling you to be prepared in case—”
Before he could finish the ship jerked and something metal scraped the outside of the hull. There was no sound in space, of course, but the impact reverberated through the pressurized flight compartment making a hollow clang they could hear clearly inside the ship.
“What was that?” Sophia’s voice was high and breathless.
Sylvan cursed. “They’re using grappling hooks to try and pull is in. Hold on.” He twisted the yoke again, flying as wildly as possible while still keeping Earth in his sights. Suddenly, though he hadn’t touched it, his communicator crackled to life.
“Warrior,” said a cold male voice from the central speaker. “Know this, we do not seek your life. We only want the girl—Sophia Waterhouse. Surrender her and you will be allowed to go back to your ship unmolested. You have my word as a commander of the Scourge that it is so.” The words were spoken in English rather than the Kindred universal language—proof that the Scourge had been studying their prey.
Sylvan bared his teeth, his fangs punching out in sheer rage. This time he didn’t try to hold them back. “Never,” he snarled, squeezing the yoke as though it was the Scourge commander’s neck. “Sophia is mine. I’ll never give her up—to you or anyone.”
Sophia gave him a wide-eyed look but he didn’t care. He was too busy avoiding the grappling hooks that were clanging off the weakened hull at regular intervals.
“Don’t be foolish.” The cold voice sounded angry now. “You can find another female. The planet below is full of them.”
“I have given my word to keep her safe.” Sylvan dived and swerved as Earth grew bigger in the viewscreen. “But what would you know about that, you motherless bastard? You Scourge filth have no females and spawn in tanks like bacteria. What would you know about protecting and caring for a female?”
“It is because of you, because of the Kindred that we have no females! For that insult alone her torment will be all the more.” The words were filled with fury and Sylvan could almost see the Scourge commander’s dark face twisting with hatred. “We will strip her naked before we take her to the AllFather. Strip her and take her in front of you where you stand, helpless to do anything but watch as she begs for release.”
“The hell you will!” Rage was like a red cloud in front of his eyes. Normally in battle he was as cold as ice but not now. Not when they were threatening Sophia. Threatening his female. “You listen to me,” he told the Scourge commander as he flew toward Earth. “You’ll never have her. And if I ever meet you face to face I’ll make you pay for those words. I’ll fucking rip your throat out with my teeth.”
Angry laughter filled the small cabin. “With your teeth, eh? You must be a Blood Kindred to speak so, warrior. I’ll be sure to pull your fangs out by the roots and bring them to the AllFather as a trophy after I finish with your female. I—”
Sylvan took one hand from the yoke and punched the speaker. There was a crunching sound and his fist made a surprisingly large hole in the metal console. His hand hurt and he started bleeding at once but he felt immediately better. He and Sophia might die—they probably would—but he would be damned if he’d go down with that sick bastard’s voice in his ears.
He became aware that Sophia was staring at him, her face as white as new fallen snow, but there was no time to explain. There was another clang against the side of the hull and the ship jerked alarmingly. Sylvan felt sick. One of the hooks caught! There was only one thing to do—keep going.
Praying to the Mother of Life for help, he forced the crippled ship into a roll, hoping to lose the hook. Earth was looming before them now, filling the entire screen. They were close…so close…
With a grinding screech, the little ship jerked free of the grappling hook and catapulted forward. They were in the upper atmosphere now and barreling down fast toward the ground, leaving the Scourge ships far behind. The smart metal hull was holding so far, but they weren’t in the clear yet. When Sylvan tried to slow their descent the ship was sluggish and unresponsive.
“Uh, Sylvan?” Sophie’s voice was a whisper of pure terror as the ground rushed up to meet them. “We’re, uh, going awfully fast. Any chance of slowing down?”
“Not much, sorry.” He flashed her a grim half-smile. “Part of the landing and guidance system is out. Either it was burned up by the net or that last grappling hook ripped it off. Either way it looks like a crash landing.”
“Oh,” she gasped. “Can…can we survive that?”
“If we’re lucky and I can find a big enough mountain.” He had managed to level off and was heading for a ridge right now. If they could just hit hard enough the ship’s maximum impact safety cushioning would be activated. If not…well…
Clearly Sophia didn’t know about the cushioning. “A mountain? You’re trying to hit a mountain?”
“Not trying to—about to,” Sylvan told her. “Hang on.”
He saw her eyes grow wider as the craggy wall of sheer rock filled the viewscreen. She opened her mouth to scream and…
Impact.
I’m sorry, Sophia. Sorry I didn’t have time to tell you I—They were both jolted forward…into a seething wall of blue gel that gushed from every crack, crevice, and cranny in the console. As the hull of the shuttle crumpled the cushioning gel filled the cabin, cocooning them both as it absorbed the force of their impact.
Despite the gel, Sylvan managed to hit his head on something hard—maybe the ceiling of the ship which had folded in on itself—and everything went black.
* * * * *
When he came to it was dark and silent. The ship’s systems were gone, clearly damaged beyond repair and the gooey gel was just beginning to melt and foam away. Sylvan struggled out of his restraints, thanking the Mother that the hull had, for the most part, kept its integrity. There were scattered pieces of metal and glass everywhere. But though the top of the ship had been pealed up and out so that the night sky was clearly visible, the walls and floor were still together.
The hole in the ceiling was actually quite fortuitous—now he wouldn’t have to try to force a way out of the damaged shuttle. It would save some time since he and Sophia would have to get to safety on foot. Sylvan wasn’t sure, but he had a feeling they had a long way to go. He didn’t even know the name of the mountain range he’d crashed into—only that it was far north of their original intended target of Tampa, Florida.
Wherever they were, they had to go and quickly. He didn’t know how long he’d been out but he was sure of one thing—the Scourge were going to be after them. They might not be able to get their ships through the protective grid the Kindred had placed around the Earth, but they had other, smaller probes which probably could get through. And if they sent down some of their hellish sniffers… Sylvan shook his head. He had to pack some supplies and get Sophia as far from the crash site as possible before they were found.
“Sophia?” he said, freeing himself from the last of the gel and turning toward her. “Soph—” Her name died on his lips—she was gone.
For a moment Sylvan stared blankly at the empty straps. There was a smear of blood where she’d been sitting but no other sign of her. He couldn’t even smell her—the air was still filled with the acrid reek of scorched metal and the sharp scent of the cushioning safety g