Pure Desire [Pure 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) (22 page)

He froze, hearing the click of the gun cock. Noor shifted positions, maneuvered, and faced Dunst. “I don’t have time to deal with whatever is bothering you. If you want, we can discuss it later when I may be in more of a mood to entertain your foolishness. I doubt it.”

“Naw, I want to talk about it now.” Dunst waved the pistol back and forth, motioned for him to move away from the entryway. “I been following you and Allura’s actions, and it don’t sit well with me how you treating her. She isn’t acting the lady, but I will settle that with her later. I won’t have you putting your hands on Allura and fornicating in sin. She deserves better than that.”

“At least we agree on something. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t have time to bother with your shenanigans. You are obviously a lover scorned. So, go into town, drown your sorrows in whiskey, and get it out of your system with one of the girls. What is between me and Allura is none of your business. I have to go.”

“I heard you were some uppity Negro, all educated, and don’t know his place.”

Noor’s tone was low and lethal. “What I am is someone you don’t want to fuck with. That is your last warning.”

Dunst raised the gun and pointed it. Noor moved with lightning speed, removed his weapon, and jammed it against Dunst’s head. He grabbed him by the balls at the same time. The man screeched in pain. His knees wobbled as his grip tightened. “I’m going to say this once, so listen carefully. If you approach me or come near Allura again I will castrate you. Do we have an understanding?”

“I was just foolin’, mister,” Dunst stammered.

“I’m not,” Noor said, and then shoved the butt of the pistol in Dunst’s head, knocking him out cold.

Allura hurried over to him. “What took you so long?”

Noor helped her mount, and then threw his legs over and up onto his horse. “Your friend Dunst wanted to have a discussion.”

Allura snapped her reins to get her horse moving, keeping up with the pace Noor set. “Dunst? What did you say to him?”

He sent them into a gallop, calling over the pounding of the horse hooves beating along the dirt, saying. “I told him I didn’t feel like talking. Let’s ride.”

They rode through the gates of the ranch before Noor set his horse into a gallop and followed the directions Allura had given him. He set a furious pace, knowing time was of the essence. He spurned the horse fast to pick up Channing’s trail.

When Allura stopped, he halted and jumped down from his horse. “What?”

“This doesn’t make sense. Channing would never go this way, Noor. He knows not to enter the narrow passageway through the mountains. He always said the area was prime for an ambush.”

“The tracks I picked up a ways back clearly showed a single rider entering the ridge. Channing went this way, and then several others followed.”

Noor kneeled down and ran his fingers over the hoofprints indented in the soft dirt. There were four distinct grooves that were the same and then another set. Like fingerprints, he had learned if different tradesmen shoed horses, one’s work could be easily differentiated from another’s. The second set of prints was identical to the marks Allura’s horse made, which meant the animal that made the imprints had to be from Channing’s horse.

A shot interrupted the silence.

Then another crack. Two more followed.

“Stay put…don’t move,” Noor ordered. He spurred his horse and raced in the direction of the gunfire.

Allura totally ignored his command. He didn’t have time to chastise her, though. When he entered the gully, Channing was on the ground, bleeding from a wound in his chest.

Noor dismounted before the horse stopped. He ran to Channing, dropped to his knees, and pressed his palm over the blood flowing from the gaping hole in his chest. “Damn it, Channing, you made a foolish move.”

“Channing!” Allura fell down beside her brother. “My god, he is dying!”

“No, he will live,” Noor said, as he ripped off his shirt. He lifted Channing, wrapped the material behind his back and around his chest, and tied it tightly to try to stop the seepage.

“There’s so much blood. My god…Oh, my god, he’s going to die!”

“No, he is not. I refuse to let that happen,” Noor said firmly, and then prayed to the Immaculate Providence not to make a liar out of him. As an added measure, he prayed to their god, too. Then he lifted Channing in his arms and hurried back to his horse with Allura on his heels.

Noor spared no time mounting and adjusting Channing in a position that would jostle him the least. Blood had soaked his shirt and was gushing from the wound and too much movement would only make things worse.

Channing groaned. He glanced down, seeing the dazed, expressionless look in his eyes, and could tell he was on the brink of dying if he didn’t do something fast.

“We don’t have time to get into town.” He tossed the leather straps aside and dismounted.

Allura’s mouth dropped and she gasped. “What are you doing? We have to go, hurry, and get him to Doctor Cochran.”

He laid Channing on the ground and retrieved an object from his saddlebag that he had the foresight to bring along just in case. He placed the object on the ground beside Channing and activated it. While he waited, he gave Allura a hasty explanation. “I can save him, but you have to trust me. I need to take him to my planet.”

Tears streamed down Allura’s cheeks. She sniffled, wiping her face with the back of her hands. “Noor, please don’t start this nonsense. We need to get Channing home and pray he can be saved.”

Gripping her shoulders, forcing her to listen, he said. “If I don’t take Channing to my home, he is going to die. I know that, and deep down inside, you know it, too.” His tone was harsh, but under the circumstances, the abruptness was necessary. When Allura stood there as if she was in a trance, he shook her and snapped her out of the daze. “He is going to die, Allura, if you don’t trust me.”

She looked at Channing, and then at him. “Please don’t let my brother die,” she whispered.

“He won’t. Not on my watch.”

A voice came over the device. “Transport Command Center, your access code please.”

Noor rapidly rattled off his security identity number. Then he said, “This is Noor Rynoir. I need three clearances ready for transport immediately.”

“Sir, did you say three?”

“Yes…time is wasting,” he barked.

“My records indicate an approved requisition for two, sir. But, even that is impossible, as the atmospheric pressure is not conducive to travel. You should have an open window in, ah, twenty-four hours. Would you like me to arrange for transport during that timeframe, sir?”

Noor shouted into the transmitter. “What is your name?”

“Sir?”

“I want to know your name so when I arrive I know whose ass to kick.”

“Ah, yes, sir…ah, I understand, sir. I’m setting coordinates now as we speak. Countdown starts at ten minus one.”

“I want a massive trauma medic team on hand when I arrive and an auricle, pulmonary, and major organs reconstruction specialist familiar with Earthling anatomy. You got that?”

“Yes, sir, I’m putting in the page now to notify the units.”

Noor took Allura’s hand and rubbed it between his fingers. He lifted her chin, caressed his thumb over her cheek, and wiped away the tears. “Channing is not getting away this easily. I still owe him a few good licks, which I intend to give,” he said softly, grinning.

Her distress tore at his heart hearing her sniffle, hiccup, before she nodded and tried to restrain the sobs he saw forming on her lips. He could see her emotions were wrought, strained, as she stared at Channing seeing what he witnessed. Channing’s eyes fluttered and rolled back in his head. He pulled Allura closer, comforting her, and tried to assure her this wasn’t the last time she would see her brother alive even though he had his doubts.

Chapter Twenty-one

If somebody plays you for a fool, you seek revenge.

That was his motto.

The who or why didn’t matter in the scheme of things, so as far as he was concerned, the establishment and stuffy bureaucrats that he reported to weren’t immune from the actions he intended to take to rectify the situation—Allura was in the hands of Emperor Agaci.

Not by his design. The entire incident was unavoidable once he brought Channing home. Even though he did what he could to keep his re-entry secretive, Sterns and the others got wind of it. Before he knew, enforcements secured the transport area, Allura was snatched from his arms, and he had no choice but to let her go. Sterns made it clear he would let Channing bleed to death if he resisted.

The bastard had the power to make good on his threat.

Noor shifted in his chair recalling the moment he returned to Sanguine. Out of everything that happened, the look in Allura’s eyes is what haunted him the most. At first, she seemed shocked, and then disbelief set in when Sterns secured her arm. Then anger surfaced when she realized what was happening.

Noor grinned, remembering how Allura had smacked Sterns good. Then he frowned. If she had had her gun, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure she wouldn’t have plugged him one. She was furious at first, and then another emotion manifested that tore at his heart. There were tears in her eyes from the emotional hurt he caused. He wanted to turn away, not witness the anguish, but he held his ground and watched, feeling like a bastard as they whisked her away. In the end, they had to practically drag her out of the room. Allura put up a damned good fight. She kicked and sobbed for Channing. Not him. Channing. The lining in Noor’s stomach twisted into a pretzel.

Noor moved from his chair and walked over to the window. He stood erect, arms behind his back, staring straight ahead into the distance and concentrating on the faint outline of the Agaci palace that was visible from his vantage point. He brought his vessel as close as he could to Oridus and hovered for hours while he tried to figure out his next steps.

The circumstances put him in a delicate conundrum. His options were limited. He could storm the emperor’s palace and retrieve Allura or go the diplomatic route. Either decision put Allura in jeopardy.

A bell toll echoed in the distance.

Allura and the emperor had wedded earlier. The only redeeming feature was that by Oridus law, the joining wasn’t official until they consummated the marriage, which couldn’t happen until the stroke of midnight. He had three more bell tolls to go, and then Allura’s fate would be out of his hands.

Noor sighed, blasting air through his mouth. If the emperor succeeded in taking her virginity, the political course was no longer viable. The Federation Conglomerate officials would stand by Oridus law and forbid him to interfere. After all, they—
the
selfish, inconsiderate bastards
—didn’t care what happened to Allura, as long as Sanguine and the other planets within the galaxy were no longer in danger of Emperor Agaci’s manic desire to take over the world. The idea of the entire predicament reminded him of a comic book plot. Emperor Agaci was the nefarious nemesis and he, the superhero. The good part was that in the end the good guy always won.

The door opened and Noor’s attention shifted. He turned around to see his brothers enter the chamber.

Appearing like masses of fury, his brothers stormed into the room, eyebrows slanted harshly, indicating they were furious and wanted to kick some major ass.

He threw up his hand in frustration. “I know. Damn it, I know,” he said to no one in particular. His comment was directed at all his brothers, who stood there with annoyed expressions on their faces.

Earlier, he filled them in on the details of his mission, his time in Texas, what had occurred since his return, and then left to seek solace so he could figure out the mess he created. They had wanted to discuss a plan of action, but he wasn’t in the mood. Respectfully, they let him go, and he assumed with their recent arrival they had tired of waiting on his decision.

“You have two more hours to do something, Noor.”

He looked at Angel. His brother had the classic Rynoir-structured features—chiseled jaw line, prominent nose, and oblique-shaped eyes, all inherited from their father. Even with his blond hair, which was whiter than gold, and his ocean-blue eyes, he bore the Rynoir stamp. When he, Vale, and Aris were considered handsome, they teasingly labeled Angel pretty-boy because of his celebrity good looks.

“You think I don’t know that?” he snapped.

Angel said, “Does that mean you intend to sit by and let the bastard steal your woman?”

Noor was used to Angel’s way of rubbing you raw with his brisk mannerisms that bordered on offensive if you weren’t accustomed to his straightforward approach to everything. His brother had a knack for delivering advice with a firm hand. He had his best interest at heart, though. With him, there were black and white, no gray areas, and he believed in taking action and thinking after he handled a situation.

 
“No, I do not.”

“So, I assume that means you will go after the girl?” Vale said matter-of-factly. He used his diplomatic tone, which signified he really hadn’t asked but rather made a statement. He wasn’t pushy as Angel, almost, though. He delivered his point without sounding preachy, a required technique he inherited from their father, along with his looks, the straight raven-colored hair and bronze complexion. He resembled the senior Rynoir to a T and was almost an exact replica except for the whiskey hue of his eyes, a genetic trait from their mother.