Unleashed by the Defender (Brides of the Kindred #25) - Evangeline Anderson Page 0,39

she thought she caught a glimpse of a shiny pink serrated leg disappearing around the corner.

“That’s weird,” she muttered. “Why would it just run away like that?”

“It what?” J’are pushed past her and looked out into the hall. Then he looked down at the silver-domed plate on the table and Imani saw his nostrils flare.

“J’are?” she asked—or started to ask because before she could quite get his name out, the big Nightwalker had shoved the hovering cart as hard as he could. It went careening madly down the long hallway, spinning as it went.

Before Imani could ask what he was doing, he grabbed her and dove to the ground.

Twenty

“What—?” was all Imani got out before there was a thundering explosion.

Suddenly the air was full of flying shards of metal but she didn’t see much of them because J’are was covering her, shielding her with his big body. She heard him grunt in pain as several of the shards hit him but he never moved—just held her closer, his arms wrapped protectively around her head as he did his best to cover her completely.

“Is…is it over?” she asked at last, her heart pounding wildly. “What happened? Was it some kind of bomb?”

J’are rolled off her carefully, wincing.

“Must have been.”

“But…how did you know?” Imani’s head was still ringing. Far down the hallway, she heard someone screaming. The sound set her teeth on edge and made the short hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Smelled the explosive,” J’are said shortly. “Did you see anything before I pushed you down?”

“I…I thought I might have seen one of those praying mantises—er, morphids—going around the corner.” Imani pointed with a shaky hand. “But—”

“Stay here.”

The big Kindred was up at once and running down the hallway. There were streaks of blood on his broad back but he was moving easily so Imani was hopeful no permanent damage had been done.

Not to J’are, anyway, but what about the screamer down the hallway?

Shakily, she got to her feet and started to go investigate, only to find she had to watch where she stepped—twisted pieces of the silver dome and hover tray were imbedded in the carpet everywhere.

Imani picked her way down the hall anyway, being careful where she placed her feet, until she came to a hole in one of the walls. This must be where the spinning hover tray had ended up after J’are shoved it—right before it exploded.

She was afraid of what she would see when she looked inside but she was more afraid not to look. After all, the bomb had been meant for her—she was sure of it. So in a way, if anyone had been hurt by it, was her fault.

At least it felt like her fault.

Peering carefully through the jagged hole the bomb had blasted in the wall, Imani saw a Mistress with bright pink hair lying in the middle of a vast bed with a bodyslave collapsed on top of her. It was clear they had been in the middle of what the Yonnites would doubtless call “illegal penetration” and that the bodyslave had been injured when the bomb blew. Now he was slumped on top of his Mistress and she was screaming and beating on his broad shoulders, trying to get his heavy body off her.

“Oh, are you all right? Is he okay? Can I help?” Imani asked, stepping carefully through the hole in the wall. The pink-haired Mistress didn’t appear to hear her.

“Get off me, Frone, you brute!” she shrieked, still trying to shift the heavy body off her own. “Get off, get off right now!”

“I don’t think he can hear you,” Imani said, raising her voice to be heard above the screams. She made her way to the bed and leaned over to check the bodyslave’s vitals. Thankfully, he was still breathing and she didn’t see any wounds. There was, however, a large chunk of concrete-like material on the mattress by his head and a smear of blood on his temple. Imani thought that it must have hit him and knocked him out.

“Hello, can I help you?” she asked, looking over the bodyslave’s broad shoulder. “Maybe we can roll him off you together?”

“Who are you?” the pink-haired Mistress exclaimed. “Yes, get him off me, please!” she added, before Imani could answer.

Imani put her shoulder to the bodyslave’s side and began to push. Gasping and shoving, she finally managed to get the heavy male rolled off his petite Mistress.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you!” The pink-haired Mistress was almost