Pure Desire [Pure 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) (42 page)

“Allura and my baby are not going to die,” Noor said with conviction, and then repeated the words. He continued to say it even when Fawn’s distress heightened and she sobbed openly, wailing when Mortimer entered the room in time to catch his wife swaying on her feet.

Noor walked slowly to the bed and stared down at Allura. Her breaths were shallow, all the blood drained from her face, and she lay deathly still. Her eyes were half-open, glazed, and focused on the ceiling. He dropped to his knees beside the bed. “Come on, sweetie. Don’t leave me.” His voice tightened as something lodged in his throat. Jostling her gently, he breathed with relief, seeing her eyelids flutter open. Touching her cheek, he caressed her sweated skin, wiping away the perspiration that dampened her skin. Allura moaned. “Shhh…save your energy. It’s going to be okay.” He prayed.

“Noor,” she said softly. Tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheek.

“Allura!” he shouted seeing her fading away.

“My baby. Oh, my child,” Fawn cried softly and buried her face in Mortimer’s shoulder.

“This is not happening.” Noor gulped, laying the side of his head against her breast. He concentrated on the shallow rise and fall of her chest as she took in and released labored breaths. A raw fear made him shudder. He jerked back, hearing her heartbeat drop to an undetectable level. “Allura! Allura!” he shouted and stood up. “Don’t you dare die on me!”

Mortimer grabbed Noor by the shoulder. “I sent for Doc Cochran and pray he can make it here in time. I sent my fastest horse with my man to retrieve him.”

Noor couldn’t hear him. The room spun dizzyingly all around him and everything went black as Allura gasped for breath. There was so much blood…

“Allura!”

He heard commotion in the room, voices that seemed to come from a tunnel. There was buzz of white noises he didn’t hear or understand as he looked at Allura’s lifeless body. The humming intensified. He wanted to turn and see who made the odd sounds, but he was frozen. His entire body locked in place. He stood there trying to make out the haze of activity happening around him.

Somebody was talking to him. He tried to focus on the face and listen to what he or she said, but the tones were hollow and distant-sounding and didn’t make any sense. Confusion whirled inside his head. Blinding numbness confiscated his body. He stood there comatose, unable to move or reason through the madness.

“Dead? No—both of them?”

It sounded like Mortimer, but he couldn’t be sure. He wanted to turn around and pay attention and understand but couldn’t. Frankly, the thought of the truth frightened him more than not knowing.

“Noor?”

He shifted his eyes and saw his aunt standing there. Noor squinted. No, he had to be dreaming. Yes, that was it. He had to be in a dream, living a hellish nightmare. Pulura was on Magnus. Wasn’t she?

Pulura spoke again and said softly, “Noor…listen to me.” She touched his face, and for a dream, she felt so warm, so real. He could even smell her familiar flowery scent. “Channing brought me here to try and help Allura and the baby. I did…I did everything I could. I swear it. If we were on Magnus, perhaps…” He listened to his aunt’s voice break with emotion. He turned away, refusing to look at her. She was crying, and the devastation on her face seemed so real. He never had such a vivid dream before, and if this was how it felt, he didn’t want to experience another one.

Mortimer tried to talk to him next. He patted him on the shoulder and said, “Son, I know how you feel.”

How could he know that? Had Mortimer lost a wife and child before? The question was irrelevant. After all, this was all a dream. Right?

Channing walked up to him next and slapped his face. Leave it to Channing to hit him for nothing. “Damn it, man, snap out of it.” He considered hitting him back. He wanted to punch him, something, ram his fist into the wall. He would if he could move.

His eyes shifted and focused on the forms on their knees. What were they saying? Were they praying? A man stood bedside he didn’t recognize. He wore a black suit and a white collar. His thick hands clutched a cross that dangled from a chain around his neck.

Fawn made the sign of the cross over her chest.

Reality hit like an avalanche and crashed him solidly in the chest to the point Noor couldn’t breathe. He wavered on his feet, disorientated. Noor crumbled to his knees and bent over on all fours—nausea bubbled and bile burned in his throat. He threw back his head and howled a distressed rumble, which resonated and broke through the whispered prayers, low, guttural, and soul wrenching.

Chapter Forty

Noor stood off in the distance and apart from the Deverills, who had come to attend Allura’s and his child’s burial along with other townspeople who wanted to show their respect for his loss. The preacher spoke eloquently, and people mourned openly. There wasn’t a dry eye in the crowd. Mrs. Norris whimpered through the entire service and her husband dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief. Sheriff Jacob kept a stoic expression, occasionally running his hand over his face, pretending to wipe away the sweat even though the day was balmy with a light breeze. Even Matt Graham, understanding the grievances in this situation had to be put aside, had come and offered his condolences with his daughter Caroline by his side the entire time. She never looked him in the eye, though. Even when he made it a point to catch her attention, she tactlessly evaded any opportunity to meet him. He knew why. Dunst was the shooter. When they found him, he was alive. Severely wounded, he survived long enough to confess that Caroline had played a major role in the shooting, and then he died, right after he emptied his gun between his eyes.

Fawn had made wonderful arrangements for the services. She selected a shiny mahogany casket draped with white flowers for Allura and tiny bluebells for his son. Two tombstones, engraved with endearments, sat on the hilltop overlooking the expanse of land that Allura loved so much. The burial sites were situated on McFarland’s property, a quiet, serene, and remote place that offered peacefulness with its towering pines, crystal clear stream, and natural beauty nearby.

A woman he didn’t recognize sung a hymn. He didn’t pay much attention to the words, all about their god’s glory, going home to the Kingdom, pearly gates, and nonsense he didn’t understand. But he respectfully allowed the song because it made those around him comfortable. It struck a raw nerve with him. The entire scenario was daunting and dismal and had taken its tow to the point. It was all he could do not to stop the nonsense. It was what he wanted. Channing and his family had convinced him this was something he had to do. Stand by and let them bury his wife and child’s bodies to console others when the entire scene made him feel morbid.

Something in Noor’s gut ached when the men lowered the caskets into the ground. One by one, people came forward to toss flowers inside the grave. They said their good-byes and then walked single file before him to offer commiseration that he acknowledged with a nod and handshake, and then uttered a thank you.

Frankly, he was glad when it was all over. He didn’t wait until the gravedigger shoveled dirt into the hole but instead walked away. Dry eyed, he didn’t shed one tear. He felt nothing and refused to expend any energy or thought into anything except seeking revenge for what he had put Allura through.

Chapter Forty-one

Noor listened to his boots
tap-tap
over the marble flooring that lined the corridor as he made his way down the hallway toward the secure intensive care unit. He observed the décor. Classic blandness coupled with streaks of vivid color that every medical facility on Magnus had that were supposed to make visitors feel comfortable and forget the reason they came—sickness and convalescing patients waited on the other side of the double doors. No matter how they dressed up the medical provisions, it was always soft, fluorescent, recessed lighting, floral infusers to cover the medicinal smells, and bright abstract artwork lined the walls. There was plush lounging chairs, satin recliners, and upbeat elevator music piping into the room that gave the impression you were in an upscale hotel lobby instead of a hospital.

He stopped at the entryway and placed his palm over the identification pad. He watched the sequence of green and yellow lights flash, and then stopped on green. The retinal scanner extended, and he leaned forward and allowed the probing scan to read. A feminine voice sounded, asking for his patient-visitor code.

“Rynoir, two-four-six, alpha ‘S’ and ‘X,’” he said into the intercom.

“Thank you, Mr. Rynoir. Please proceed to zone blue. Have a nice day.”

She was in the blue zone. That was encouraging. The hospital was marked in specific zones depending on the condition of the patient. Blue was good.

Noor stopped at a vending kiosk and purchased a bouquet of flowers and a box of sweets.

When he reached the door, he acknowledged the armed guards that resided outside the doorway and chatted casually with the men a minute before going inside. He was beginning to feel more comfortable now that he knew undesirables hadn’t tried to gain access. He couldn’t afford to underestimate Emperor Agaci.

Noor stepped into the door’s entryway and waited for detoxification. Within the doorframe were tiny diffusers embedded in the framework, which sent ultraviolet light waves to scan his body for bacterial anomalies and potentially harmful microorganisms that cling to skin, hair, clothing, or materials. Then fine mists of antibodies were delivered that absorbed through his pores and destroyed foreign antigens that might exist.

“Hey, baby,” he said softly and walked over to Allura, who sat quietly in a chair. He kissed her forehead and put the flowers and treats on the table. Then he kissed her again like a man who truly missed his wife—loved his woman. “I missed you.”

Allura smiled prettily. She wore a pastel yellow silk robe draped casually over her body and revealing she was naked underneath. Her nipples distended and poked the material. The opening showed a creamy thigh, and for a transient minute he wondered if he could keep her hidden forever from the outside world and the dangers it presented. His brief fantasy ended. Emperor Agaci had tried to kill Allura again, but his attacks had been futile thanks to the armed guards and men he kept at a constant vigil within and around the hospital.

Her eyes flashed to the stunner in the holster inside his jacket. “I don’t like not seeing you for days. I worry.”

Noor removed the weapon and set it aside on the table. “The guards are very capable.”

“
I
have people watching me…not you,” she said pointedly.

“I’m a big boy. Please don’t start, Allura,” he said mildly. “The doctors tell me you can leave today. How does that sound?”

“Suspiciously like you will secret me away again, locked behind a slew of escorts and cemented in somewhere, if I know you.”

Noor grinned. “Actually, you are going to live at my family’s compound. Mother and my sisters are hyped about your arrival.” He walked over to the small glass-enclosed apparatus that held his son. He slipped his hands into the hypoallergenic sleeves that allowed him to touch his child. Tenderly, he ran his fingers through the whirl of brown curls atop the baby’s head, caressed the cherub cheek, and smiled, seeing his unique, oblique pale green and silver eyes brighten. He gurgled, spitting bubbles from his lips.

Allura came up beside him, encircled his waist, and laid her cheek against Noor’s shoulder. “Isn’t he beautiful? Prejudicially, I admit he was well worth all the trouble to bring him into the world. I would do it again a thousand times.”

“Maybe in not quite the same manner…I died a thousand times thinking I had lost you and my son,” he murmured.

“Channing said you risked everything to save us. You insisted on sending us through the atmosphere first, and then followed, even though the conditions were dangerous and could have obliterated you. You could have died.”

He kissed her nose. “I didn’t die. So, let’s not think about that and fret over what could have been. You and my son are here and alive, and I’m ecstatic. I didn’t like going through the motions of your funeral though. I will admit that, but it was unavoidable evil to fake your death, for all the good it did, because somehow the emperor found out you were alive.”

“He won’t stop, will he?”

Noor frowned. “He’s resilient and very untrusting. I’m not sure how he figured out you weren’t dead.” He lifted a shoulder. “I have my suspicions but don’t care to dwell on it. You shouldn’t either. When you leave here, it will be with a troop of escorts who will see you safely to the Rynoir dwelling with father, Aris, and Vale in tow with vessels fully armed to ensure you arrive without incident.”

“You are not coming with us, are you?”

Noor evasively maneuvered around the question. “We can’t keep calling him son. Have you considered a name?”

“I have, but wanted to see what you thought before making it official.”

“I’m amenable to whatever you want, darling.”

“I want you to come with us.”

“I’m afraid I’m not going to be that gracious.” He smiled a boyish-impish grin that quickly turned grim. “Emperor Agaci has to be stopped finally. I can’t do that in hiding. What were you thinking in the way of a name?”