“Here—don’t try to talk.” Grimacing with disgust, she grabbed the morphid by one thick, hairy leg and yanked on it. The thing seemed to be stuck, however, its mandibles still clamped around the big Nightwalker’s neck. Possibly they were stuck in his collar.
Gritting her teeth, Imani yanked harder.
“Get…off!” she gasped as—with a final huge pull—the morphid corpse finally rolled off J’are’s chest.
It was then that Imani saw the blood.
Bright red, it was jetting from the side of J’are’s neck. The pain collar had been severed there, she saw, and the morphid’s jaws must have sawed into his flesh after they finished cutting through the thick leather. There was a long, jagged wound bisecting the strong, corded side of the big Nightwalker’s throat.
“No! Oh, no!” Imani gasped. She was no doctor, but she knew an arterial pulse when she saw one. The steady jetting of crimson could only mean that some vital blood vessel in the side of J’are’s neck had been severed.
Dropping to her knees, she fumbled at his neck, pressing hard to try and stop the sticky red jets. Why wasn’t his body healing itself? Was it because the wound was too deep—too severe—to mend?
“Let me go.” J’are’s mental voice was faint but his eyes were clear as he looked up at her. “Let me go, Imani. You’ll be free of me—free of our bond. Just let me go.”
“No!” Imani gasped, tears choking her. When had she started crying? She had no idea, but now salty streams were running down her cheeks and she didn’t know how to stop them.
“J’are,” she sent through their link. “J’are, hold on!”
“Don’t want to hold on. I hurt you—I deserve to die,” he sent back. “Please, Imani—let me go.”
“No, I can’t! I…I love you!”
As she sent the words, Imani realized they were true. It seemed crazy to think that in the short time she had known him, she had fallen for the big Nightwalker. But somehow it had happened—maybe it was because she had Claimed him—maybe she really was the female the Goddess had intended for him.
Imani didn’t know. She only knew that now, on the verge of losing him, she finally understood her true feelings for J’are.
“Don’t go—stay with me!” she told him fiercely. “You have to stay with me so we can raise our baby together!”
He didn’t answer and she realized he had lost consciousness. Also, the flow under her hand, which she was trying desperately to staunch, had grown weaker. Was it because his body was finally healing itself? Or was it because he had run out of blood to pump?
Imani was afraid to know the answer.
“Help!” she screamed at the top of her voice, looking around the bloody, corpse-littered courtroom. “Please, somebody help me!”
There was no answer but a moment later the double wooden doors of the courtroom burst open and a group of Kindred warriors poured in.
“What is it—what happened?” It was Commander Sylvan, Imani saw, down on his knees beside her. “We were waiting outside to take you home after the court hearing and I heard the Goddess urging me to come to you. Where’s the injury?”
“His neck,” she gasped. “The…the artery got cut, I think. I’m trying to stop the flow, but—”
“Let me see.” Gently, Sylvan moved her hands and examined the wound. “That’s not good,” he said grimly. “We need to get it sealed up.”
Reaching into a bag he’d brought with him, he pulled out a small device and began using it to seal the wound. It seemed to be gluing the jagged flesh together somehow with a beam of light, Imani thought numbly. But would it be too late?
“How…how did you know to bring your medical supplies?” she asked dully as Sylvan worked.
He shrugged.
“I had a strong feeling I might need them just as we were leaving the ship and I never ignore my instincts. You never can tell when the Goddess is speaking to you. When I heard her voice urging me to go to you, I knew I had made the right call. There.” He sat back and surveyed his work. “That’s the best I can do here. We need to get him back to the Mother Ship where I can stabilize him and do a more thorough exam.”
“Will he live?” Imani was crying again—maybe she had never stopped. “Please tell me he’s going to live, Commander Sylvan. Please, he can’t…can’t d-die.” She stuttered out the last word, barely able to make it pass her lips.
“I’ll do everything I can for him.” Sylvan’s voice was grim. “But his pulse is very weak and it looks like he lost a lot of blood.” He nodded at the pool of crimson they were both kneeling in.
“He can’t die. Please don’t let him die!” Imani whispered. It was a prayer—a desperate plea. “Please, oh please don’t let him die!”
But if the Goddess heard her prayer, she was silent.
Imani knew there was nothing she could do but wait and see.
Forty-One
Leaving the courtroom was a blur.
As the Kindred warriors were loading J’are onto a floating stretcher, Judge Thoughtgood came out from under her judicial podium. Her purple tower of hair was completely wilted around her shoulders and she had a shocked look on her face.
“Councilor Williams, I have not released your client,” she said, frowning, as though she was trying to get back to normal despite the carnage all around them.
“That’s too damn bad,” Imani snapped. “My client is in need of medical care so we’re taking him.”
“Yes, well…all right, I suppose.” The judged nodded, still looking shocked. “But…what about those?” She nodded at the two remaining morphids which were standing silently over Lady Bittlebum’s headless body.
“Here.” Imani thrust the bloodstained blonde wig at her. “Wave this over their antennae and give them an order. I’m pretty sure that’s how Lady Bittlebum was controlling them—there’s some kind of scent
