A Warrior s Desire - By Pamela Palmer Page 0,43

doesn't matter.

I'll heal."

Her hands slid to his unshaven face, her expression softening.

"You're a fine man, Charlie.

It's in your nature to protect the weak.

But I'm not weak.

I'm a weapon that might give you the advantage you need to win this battle."

He stared into her eyes, drowned in the depths of them, and knew from the strength he saw in them that she spoke the truth.

"Charlie, if you lose, if they kill you, what do you think I'll be facing then?" She was right.

Everything she said was right.

Yet putting her in danger went against every instinct he possessed.

Then again, he'd be right behind her.

They wouldn't get their pants untied before he beat the crap out of them.

"All right."

Satisfaction lit Tarrys's eyes and she nodded, sure and fearless as she released him and stepped back.

"Break their bones.

Their necks sometimes take the longest to heal.

The more bones you break, the longer they'll be down.

If you can, tie them with your rope.

That might slow them more."

He saluted her.

"Yes, ma'am."

And he wasn't kidding.

The woman knew what she was doing.

But letting her go to those monsters, letting her walk right into their hands, was going to kill him.

Reaching for her, he pulled her to him and pressed his mouth to hers, needing to feel her against him one more time.

Mine.

The word rolled through him, filling him with the fierce need to claim her...to brand her as his.

He finally drew back and slipped a thick lock of hair behind her ear.

"Be careful."

Her eyes searched his, worry swirling in their depths.

"You, too.

Charlie..." Again, she pressed her palms to his cheek.

"They can't hurt me, no matter what it looks like.

Remember that."

"I'll try."

A smile flickered over her features.

With a quick roll of her eyes, she turned and ran lightly down the tunnel, away from him.

Slowly, he rose to his feet, giving her a head start.

Then, pulse leaping into a hard battle pound, he took off after her.

He'd run only a couple of minutes when he heard them.

"Watch your back for the Sitheen," one of the Esri shouted.

"It's a setup.

She's not controlled."

Charlie's blood went cold.

They knew.

"What do you mean?" asked a second voice.

"What are you doing?" "Cutting off her hair."

Jesus.

Charlie's muscles bunched as he ran full bore down the winding tunnel until finally the passage curved and he could see them.

Tarrys struggled to elude capture as one Esri, the one who'd nearly raped her, lunged for her with a knife.

The second Esri faced Charlie, his face long, his gold eyes gleaming with malice.

From one long-fingered hand hung a wicked- looking short sword glistening in the crystal's light.

His gaze shifted to Charlie, no surprise evidence in his expression as he pushed past his compatriot to meet Charlie's headlong attack.

In a single move, Charlie pulled his own knife, steel ringing against steel as he parried blow for blow.

Perspiration dampened his brow as he fought the skilled swordsman.

Charlie's only chance of reaching Tarrys lay in disarming the Esri so that he could break his bones.

"You were a fool to enter this world, human.

Sitheen, " the Esri sneered, lunging.

"I'll end your life quickly."

Charlie fought with everything he had, slashing through the Esri's wrist.

The man should have dropped the sword, but the thin line of blood disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared and the Esri only laughed.

Beyond, Tarrys fought her own battle, dodging the knife that would steal that glorious hair of hers and along with it, her freedom.

Dammit.

He had to reach her.

The Esri in front of him lunged.

Seeing his chance, Charlie used the man's momentum against him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him off balance.

In a quick, vicious move, he broke that pale wrist.

The Esri's blade clattered to the floor.

But as Charlie reached out to break the Esri's neck, he felt the slap of a hand to the back of his head.

Pain detonated like a grenade, blasting away his mind, all sound, thought and feeling.

God help him.

He could feel his energy draining, as if the pain were sucking the very life out of him.

Real fear swirled, bloodred, through the agony.

If he collapsed now, it was over.

Fighting with every last scrap of strength he possessed, Charlie wrenched himself free of the Esri's hold, hurling himself out of the grip of that agony only to bang his head on the roof of the tunnel as he stumbled backward.

As his spiraling vision cleared, he saw Tarrys and watched with horror as the Esri's knife swung down, taking a chunk of her scalp.

Her scream broke through the roar in his head as blood began to stream down her face.

Fury