Page 139 of Homebound
In a blur of motion, he traced into the thick of the crowd and began shredding them. Blood spurted like geysers in all directions, the smell of it saturating the air. Men cried in agony. And then Simon’s trademark, a ripped-out head, flew from the melee to rest at Dr. Delano’s feet, its sightless eyes still full of horror and pain.
Dr. Delano stumbled back, jaw working, hand groping for a weapon. He pulled it out from a holster at his back, fumbling with it. It took him several clumsy attempts to take the safety off.
When he raised it to aim at Simon, Gemma was ready. She swung the metal gurney leg and connected it with the back of Dr. Delano’s head.
He pitched forward and fell. The gun clattered to the ground. Blood slowly spread around his head.
Stunned by what she’d done, Gemma stared at Dr. Delano’s motionless form. The sounds of fighting receded. She was frozen in time, seeing nothing beyond the growing pool of blood, knowing that this timeshe’dcreated this horror.
Someone grasped the gurney leg she was still holding, and panicked, she lashed out at her attacker - or tried to. The hold was concrete. She went berserk, kicking and clawing at the tall body until finally, he lifted her off the ground and shook her. Hard.
“Breathe,” he said, his voice low and familiar.
She let out a whooshing breath. “Simon.”
He set her down, and she fell against his chest. “Simon.” His tall body with its solid expanse of muscle felt like heaven. His unique smell hit her nostrils, and even in this charged moment, she felt attraction so powerful that her legs trembled at the knees with it. She pressed her cheek to his chest and registered the sophisticated motor of his synchronized cardiovascular system in high gear. Having her body molded to his felt like home.
“Thank you,” he said, a little hoarse, and tightened his arms around Gemma.
“Welcome.” She took a shuddering breath in. “Is he dead?”
“Probably. It was a good swing.”
She peered around. Dark shapes of the bodies littered the ground.
“Are they all… dead?”
“Yes.”
“There were so many of them. It seemed like an army.”
“There were many,” he acknowledged, “but they didn’t shoot, and that made it easy.”
She swallowed audibly and glanced at Dr. Delano. Did she really kill him? The thought made her sick.
He followed her gaze. “You kicked ass,” he murmured.
“I feel terrible. Does it get easier with practice? When did you stop caring, Simon? After your second kill? Tenth?”
He gave it a thought. “We Rix hunt our food. I killed my first wildebeest when I was five. By the time I reached adulthood, the sight of death was nothing new.”
“Those were animals. This is a rational being. A person.”
“Bleeds the same to me.”
Gemma burrowed her face in the folds of his shirt. “When you say things like this, I feel like the ground shifts beneath my feet. I am not of your kind. I abhor violence. I am not strong.”
“You are resilient. You do what needs to be done. You keep going even when your body is failing you. You have such a bright spirit, Gemma. It guides me, and makes me feel strong.”
“Youarestrong, silly.”
“My strength is fed by a purpose. You’re the purpose.”
“Oh, Simon…”
Their bodies stayed pressed to each other for several moments that were too precious to waste, but neither made a move to break apart.
“Are you hurt?” Gemma mumbled into his chest.
