Page 92 of Jewel of the Sea

A shot rang out. Chad’s body jerked as a bullet hit his arm, and his weapon fell from his hand. Dracchus was there an instant later, wrapping a huge hand around Chad’s neck. There was a wet crunch.

Chad’s limp body sagged to the floor.

Aymee flicked her eyes toward the source of the shot; Randall was propped against the wall, pistol trembling in a bloody hand, a trail of crimson smeared beneath him. His arm fell, gun slipping from his grip. He held his other hand to his gut.

Free of Cyrus’s hold, Aymee kicked the gun from his grip. It skittered across the concrete floor.

“You bitch!” he wheezed. He swung his arm, and Aymee braced for impact.

A roar echoed through the pen.

Before Cyrus’s blow connected, Arkon — his skin a furious red — slammed into him. They hit the floor hard in a tangle of limbs. Arkon reared up over the man, his back turned to Aymee, and struck Cyrus quickly, repeatedly, savagely.

She couldn’t see the damage, but she heard it. Saw the blood dripping from Arkon’s arms.

Aymee backed away from them and searched out Macy. She stood in Jax’s embrace; his skin was still crimson, and his shoulders rose and fell with heavy, ragged breaths. Macy brushed her thumb over his cheek soothingly.

Dracchus stalked toward Randall; the other rangers were dead.

“Stop!” Aymee yelled, inserting herself between Dracchus and Randall. She held her hands out in front of her, backed up until she was standing over the surviving ranger, and glanced at him over her shoulder.

Randall looked up at her. His face was pale, his eyes glazed, his hands covered in blood. “Shouldn’t have let it come to this. Sorry.”

“I tried to tell you,” Aymee said, returning her attention to Dracchus.

“He is one of them,” Dracchus said.

“He helped us. He stopped one of them from shooting Jax.”

Dracchus turned his head, glancing over his shoulder toward Chad’s body. He seemed to consider it for several seconds before finally grunting. “Will he live?”

Aymee stepped over Randall, crouched beside him, and gently pulled his hand away from his wound. It didn’t look as though anything serious had been hit, but she couldn’t be sure without further examination. She removed his sling and folded it, pressing it to the wound. “If we can get the bleeding to stop, yes.” She looked up. “Macy, I need you.”

Macy nodded and spoke softly to Jax. He hesitated before releasing her and followed directly on her heels as she approached Aymee.

“Keep pressure here, Mace.”

Once Macy had pressed her hand over the bloodied cloth on Randall’s stomach, Aymee stood and went to Arkon.

Pushing up off Cyrus, Arkon swayed backward unsteadily. Blood and gore dripped from his hands. He turned and met Aymee’s gaze, chest moving rapidly with short, shallow breaths. His skin reverted to its normal color and then paled. She couldn’t tell how much of the blood on his torso was his own.

She ran to him, catching him before he fell. His weight bore down on her, his body slick with blood.

“Dracchus!” she cried, then lowered her voice, fighting tears. “Don’t you dare die on me, Arkon.”

“Not dying. Just...dizzy.”

Within a second, Dracchus was beside Arkon. He took hold of Arkon’s arm and slung it over his shoulders, relieving Aymee of the weight.

“We need to get him to the infirmary. Both of them. Jax, can you take Randall?”

“Yes,” Jax replied.

“Macy, keep pressure on his wound,” Aymee said, then moved ahead of Dracchus, leading him into the hall. Hurriedly, she entered the code. The door groaned open.

Knowing Dracchus was right behind her, she raced through the hallway, turning right at the intersection, and slapped the button to open the infirmary doors.

“Lay them on the tables.” She ran to the cabinets, thankful she’d taken time to familiarize herself with the supplies on hand.

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