Night Game (GhostWalkers #3)(59)
Author: Christine Feehan

The water was murky and it was nearly impossible to communicate even with hand signals so they used touch as they kicked strongly heading around the length of Burrell’s island. They swam for several minutes until their lungs forced them toward the surface. There was no real cover, so both only allowed their mouths and noses above the waterline to suck in the precious air before sliding back down into the depths again.

Twice they came up for air, circling around the island until they were certain they could approach without the hunters’ knowledge. As they began to move into the shallower, reed-choked water, Flame felt something grab hold of her arm. It squeezed like a vise, yanking her down, rumbling her into the rotting debris and muck on the bottom. She actually heard the snap of her bone as the force of the spin broke her arm. All without conscious thought she pulled the knife from her belt loop and began punching the leathery hide as hard as she could with her free hand, the hilt of the knife tight in her fist as she pounded her way up the head of the animal to the top. She sank the knife as deep as she could, going for the eye, driving it deep with every bit of strength she had.

Gator saw the tail of an alligator rise to the surface and then the water roiled and churned, debris, blood, and muck rising like a boiling volcano. Immediately he pulled his knife and dove below the service, his heart in his throat. The alligator was coming out of its death roll, surfacing, jaws still clamped around Flame’s arm, dragging her to the surface with it. She gasped for air, still pounding on the thrashing head. Gator struck from below, slamming his knife repeatedly into the underbelly. The alligator opened its jaws wide and Flame jerked backward away from the bellowing reptile.

Gator caught her around the waist and, kicking hard, took her toward the shore. She was still wildly swinging with her good arm, trying to punch toward the alligator, almost fighting him to go back. “Stop it,” he hissed. “You’re safe, cher. Safe.”

“I’m killing the damned thing. It broke my arm. He can just die for that.”

Gator dragged her up the muddy embankment, through the weeds and brush, a safe distance from the water where he could examine her injuries. She jerked away from him, furious, in shock, blood running into the ground, her feet kicking toward the water as if she could attack the alligator.

He trapped her with his legs, holding her still, tearing his shirt with his teeth. “Stop fighting me, Flame. I’m on your side.” Damn it, Kadan. Where the hell are you? We’re in trouble here. I need a medic now. He tied his shirt around the wound. She was lucky. The alligator had been big enough to have pulled her arm off.

“That hurts. The son of a bitch broke my arm.”

“They hunt for food in the early morning. He’s a big boy and we just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Hold still. You’re bleeding all over the place. This is going to get infected. You know that. I have to get you to a hospital.”

If she could turn any whiter, she managed. “No. Once I’m in their computer system Whitney will find me. No way. I can handle this. Take me to your grandmother’s friend.”

“There’s no way that attack wasn’t heard for miles. I didn’t mute it and neither did you. We have to move, and we have to move fast. Can you do this?” He used directional sound, throwing voices, the sound of running and heavy breathing to the east of them, trying to buy time.

Flame didn’t respond. She swayed against him, looking pale and frightened.

Gator cursed under his breath, spewing Cajun cuss-words as fast as he could think of them, expecting a sniper’s bullet any moment. She was shaking uncontrollably, in shock and not even realizing it. “Listen to me, Flame.” He caught her face and turned it toward him. “Listen to me. We’re in trouble here. There are several of these hunters and they aren’t just going to let us waltz out of here. I have to find them and take them out so I can get you safely out of here. They’ve probably rigged the airboat, so we can’t use that. I want to move you to a safer place and then I’m going after them.”

She blinked rapidly, her body swaying against him, the fight going out of her. “It hurts like a son of a bitch. Do you have a medic kit on you? If I have something for the pain, I can back you up.”

“I want you to stay quiet. Kadan and the others are on the way and we’ll have help in a few minutes.” He could feel her body beginning to stiffen again. Again there was that brief flare of suspicion she couldn’t hide from him. He couldn’t blame her. Their stalkers were ghosts, unseen, unheard, only felt and that was suspect. He’d called in the others without consulting her and she was extremely vulnerable.

Flame flexed her fingers to see if she could move through the pain. Her arm and hand were useless to her. “Let’s go then. I’ll feel safer a bit farther from the bank.”

Gator hadn’t expected cooperation. She’d lost a fair amount of blood and her arm was definitely broken. The teeth had gone through her skin and, between the muddy water and the alligator’s diet of rotten meat, there was bound to be major infection. She needed medical attention immediately whether she wanted it or not. He didn’t wait for Flame to change her mind, but helped her up. She clenched her teeth, no sound escaping, and it occurred to him she hadn’t made a single sound during the attack.

“Come on, cher.” His tone was on the husky side, but he couldn’t help it. Everything about Flame appealed to him-even her fierce independence and her stubborn streak and her unfailing courage. They moved over the uneven terrain as quickly as possible, her breathing labored and her face twisted with pain, but she didn’t say a word. “This looks good.” It was a small area, covered in brush. Flame would be hidden and he could go on the attack.

Gator helped her settle onto the ground and crouched beside her. “This won’t take long. You goin’ to be all right without me?”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” She waved him off. “Just watch your back.” She didn’t meet his eyes.

He caught her chin. “I’m coming back for you, Flame.”

“I know.” Her voice sounded strangled and she leaned forward to press her lips against his. It was no more than a brief touch, very light, but he felt it through his entire body.

Gator stood up and looked around. Watching him, Flame noted his entire demeanor changed. He looked fluid, powerful, and suddenly very much a warrior, not at all her charming Cajun. His expression was hard. Resolute. His eyes were as cold as ice. He turned and ran lightly through the brush-and she didn’t hear a sound.