A/N: Thanks for your reviews, guys! :) Next chapter is done already. I'll
probably put that one up tomorrow.
Disclaimer: Tomb Raider is still not mine, nor are Lara Croft or Kurtis Trent. They belong to Eidos and (now) Crystal
Dynamics. If you still don't comprehend the fact that I own nothing, I advise you to seek help. Immediately.
Chapter Four
Nephilim
Strahov Archives
Prague, August 8th, 2003
They circled warily, evil intent glistening deep within swirling black madness. He sensed their hunger, a bloodlust which radiated from their very souls, the tang of death clinging thick to muscular bodies.
Perspiring fingers tightened around cold steel, the Boran X surging from body to body, its bullets raining down upon them, penetrating bone and flesh. Kurtis shook renegade bangs from his eyes, backing toward the farthest wall as he fired. He darted a quick glance out of the corner of one eye, and his heart stilled for a single moment.
She lay panting against the very wall toward which he retreated, pinned writhing against its mass by a brick shard pierced clean through the shapely muscle of her upper left arm. Its vicious touch dribbled gore down tanned and slick flesh, blood frothing and bubbling around its tip. Dark orbs held his own for a moment, frosted in agony.
"Pay attention to what your doing, you dumb Yank!" she snapped through pain-whitened lips. Slender fingers reached for the dagger-like shard, bucking restlessly against its chill rough surface.
Her eyes fluttered shut.
Kurtis spun, snapped off a quick shot, and lunged toward her, the Boran X disappearing into worn leather. He touched a surprisingly gentle hand to her cheek, cupping soft flesh in the sanctuary of his palm.
He slipped large strong fingers over her smaller ones, nudging her hand gently aside. "Hold still."
Lara tensed against him. "Get off me and start shooting those ugly little things again."
"I can't kill them. They're Proto Nephilim. Duplicates of the one that was eating people in the Sanitarium. Karel's been a busy boy." He eyed her. "This is going to hurt."
"Really, like it hurt going in?"
A scream ascended dust-thickened air, a primal call that perforated Kurtis' very soul, echoing within the deepest recesses of his mind. He felt something heavy upon him, its bulk pressed all along his back, tearing, shredding, frail material giving way to slashing claws.
"Oh fuck." he murmured.
She grasped the stone binding her to chill brick and yanked.
Kurtis swayed on his feet, reaching with another muttered curse for his weapon.
The Nephilim leapt.
Lara thrust herself off the wall in a single mighty shove, the brick shard out before her, its edge piercing sinew and muscle, her impressive strength ramming it deep. Gore exploded outward, painting sun-darkened flesh, hissing as it steamed within the crevices of her skin.
She gasped and stumbled backward, clutching her injured arm in a bloody hand.
"The window." Kurtis said, and indicated the single pane of glass located just behind Luther Rouzic's desk.
She hefted the desk chair in both hands, muscles bunching beneath this added weight, wound flaming in protest. At her side, Kurtis dropped into combat stance. The Chirugai hummed to life, its illumination playing over clenched features.
Kurtis curled powerful fingers in the holes pocking the Chirugai's exterior, and the weapon snapped open in his palm.
Lara heaved the chair.
The Chirugai spun out and away from its owner, responding to Kurtis' unspoken order, maneuvering past Lara's perspiring face to hack the swiping limb from a nearby Nephilim.
She ducked beneath the spray of broken glass against tender, exposed flesh.
Tinkling shards settled to rest at her booted feet, this glittering river lying silver and glistening across a rusted sill.
*This is the second time I've had to escape out a window in the past few days.*
Lara spun, and leapt for the sill, scrambling out into driving precipitation. She felt the warmth of his hand present within the small of her back, the heat of his body directly behind her as she rolled clear of broken glass.
The roof lay slick and treacherous beneath her. She skidded over its surface, both arms backpedaling for balance.
*Flashback*
Its bulk hovered above her, the helicopter's rotors whipping chill and damp air. Her lithe and shivering figure jerked beneath the wind's ferocious touch, head bowed as though in deference to the tempest raging overhead.
To her left, bullets sparked off the rooftop.
She felt the heat of their guns, the fading remnants of gun smoke searing sensitive nostrils.
Mahogany orbs slipped across the roof's surface, probing surrounding layers of darkness for some sanctuary, a safe haven in which she could take refuge.
None.
*End Flashback*
Kurtis' fingers sought her own, twining surprisingly easily, something that caught her attention despite their dire situation. He tugged her behind him, sprinting across the Archive's surface, ducking as he ran. His gun swung freely in the other hand, sleek beneath pounding rainwater.
The pain screamed through every nerve, brutal in its travel, thrusting her insides to violent fire. She trembled beneath its furious touch, legs buckling slightly beneath this cruel onslaught.
Her arm lay wet and crimson beneath a layer of blood.
"There's a ledge running along the side of the building. I'm going to swing you down. It's a good drop, but not one that's going to kill you."
"How comforting." Lara replied.
The harsh tramp of clawed feet rang out behind them.
"Jump!" Kurtis yelled, and shoved her toward the roof's edge, still tightly grasping her.
Her boots tread nothing but air for a single moment.
He half-crouched, leaning out and over the side, thrusting her lithe body free of hard brick.
She landed hard, falling panting against the wall for a moment, ragged breath heaving both slender shoulders.
Above, his dark head dissipated into the night.
She broke stride only for a moment, keen gaze surging upward to where she'd last glimpsed him. *He's going to get himself killed.*
* * *
The ebony fog of nighttime rose to claim him, a silent demon that clung like an eager lover to each hard curve. He carried the sheen of rainwater thick upon his body, its chill touch traversing shredded cotton to kiss exposed flesh.
Kurtis surged onward, through undulating shadows, feet drumming a dissonant tune against the pavement.
Their snorted breaths twined as one behind him, merging in a perverse dance.
* * *
Her numb fingers closed against solid steel.
The ladder rattled beneath her urgency, protesting such maltreatment. Lara descended with a speed she'd never thought possible, her feet barely touching down before she'd already lowered them another rung.
She'd discovered this escape route at the ledge's end, and silently thanked Kurtis for his foresight, hoping his sacrifice had not just cost him his life. The ground shimmered in silent wait below, its simplistic beauty marred only by a single parked car.
Her newly-acquired wound burned with a ferocity that plunged the world to blackness before her. She felt the slick of bile rise to glaze her throat, disturbed stomach acids roiling in her gut.
Above, the frightening sounds of pursuit transcended even the rain's cacophony.
* * *
He pushed himself on, faster, harder, muscles screaming, each breath agony. The Boran X bobbed at his side, long since holstered to increase his mobility. He skimmed trembling fingers across it now, lingering against the comforting heaviness. *How long could I hold them off with this? Long enough to knock a few down and get to my bike?*
Pain burned a slow, torturous path to his stomach.
Both knees buckled beneath him, skidding his muscular figure across the roof's glistening surface.
He flipped onto his back, driving a fist up, feeling bone give way beneath his powerful hit as the Nephilim bore down upon him. With a shriek it withdrew, dancing backward from this gasping, bleeding visage, Kurtis' blood pattering from between gnashing teeth.
He loosened his Chirugai.
His fingers glistened wetly beneath his own spilled gore, crimson thick upon them even as the tempest raging overhead sought to purify flesh. He groped weakly for his Glaive, latching onto a corner and ripping it free of the belt circling his hard waist.
They came for him in an ever-tightening circle.
Blood lust hung thick within the taut atmosphere. He sensed its presence all around, descending heavy and menacing against his weakened body.
The Chirugai clattered to hard pavement.
Both palms snapped open, long thick lashes fluttering as the power gathered and built within him. He felt it roiling just below the surface, its yearning to be free humming throughout him.
His lips parted in a final deep breath.
They surged over him, and the power exploded through his fingertips, hurling the deadly creatures off rain-slick rooftop. They scattered all about him, flung backward by this incredible force, falling prey to Kurtis' strange abilities.
"Take that, motherfuckers." he whispered.
The rain cooled errant rivers of bodily fluids with a light hiss of protest at such grisly work. He watched the blood stream in ribbons from his shattered body, blurred into incongruous lines by hazy vision.
*Why am I always the one getting injured? In the short time I've known this woman, I've been impaled, kicked off that platform in the Vault of Trophies, knocked unconscious, shot, and now clawed by ugly goddamn smelly little bastards which Karel is no doubt planning to take over the world with.*
He shook his head slowly, dark hair rustling over damp cement.
"Jesus Christ." Kurtis murmured, and coughed, this harsh exhalation jarring his entire body. He pushed himself slowly upright, trembling legs twitching restlessly for a moment before settling to a shaky rest beneath him.
He clutched his hard abdomen with one hand and stumbled forward a few steps, bent over at the waist in a fruitless attempt to quell the rising pain.
Below, he perceived the screech of tires struggling for purchase against sleek and moist roads.
"Sounds like our new friends aren't done yet." he said, and broke into a faltering run.
* * *
She surged panting through ambulant shadows, arms pumping at either side, booted feet disturbing pooling rainwater as she sprinted into the night's embrace.
Ahead, his motorcycle gleamed in silent wait, bathed only in the effulgent light of the moon. But of Kurtis himself there was no indication, and she chanced a quick glance over her shoulder at the darkened exterior of the Strahov Archives.
No movement.
*I don't have time to wait for him.* she thought, ignoring the sickening pang this revelation thrust throughout her. The Nephilim had apparently been only the first wave of Lara and Kurtis' new friends, accompanied by men armed with automatics in a dark vehicle. She heard the thrum of its exhaust, the searing stench of burned rubber rising over the purity of falling rainwater.
*He's probably dead anyway.* The thought did not comfort her, did not lessen the sting of her abandonment any. She should at least go back, see his body with her own eyes, not just roar off into the night to save her own ass, and on his bike no less.
His image danced before her, sarcastic smirk in place, dark locks tousled ruggedly, lending a sexiness to cold and hard features. The intensity of those cerulean orbs perused her with such precision that for a moment she imagined him standing before her, smiling and holding out a hand...
*I'm sorry, Kurtis.*
She swallowed hard against the sudden lump crusting the interior of her throat, and vaulted alone and weaponless onto his motorcycle.
*Only your survival matters. There isn't enough time to worry about anyone else.* a voice whispered within the deepest recesses of her mind. She had hardened after her experience in Egypt, become colder, less caring, less tolerant. And yet she knew this voice was not correct, that if this man perished tonight because of her, the knowledge would fester forever as an irreparable wound.
Deftly, Lara hot-wired his machine, the bike awakening beneath her in a masculine growl which penetrated her entire body.
She glanced up, squinting into thrashing precipitation, just in time to see the pursuing vehicle round a corner. Its headlights glowed against her for a single moment, edging lithe curves in brilliance.
She kicked the bike into gear, and wrenched it around hard.
The tires screamed for one terrifyingly drawn-out moment, brackish water ascending the sky in protest. She felt a breath catch and freeze within the confines of her throat, then slip with relief through full lips as the tires gripped damp pavement. It lurched forward, straight for her attackers, front tire rising into the air before touching down once more.
Lara hunched low over soaking handlebars, dark orbs converging on the oncoming van.
A grim smile touched full lips.
They rushed headlong toward one another, neither altering their path. She held the bike steady, gritting her teeth against the flaming agony in her left arm, clutching tight to the motorcycle's comforting bulk as the distance closed.
Twenty feet. Fifteen. Ten. Five.
At the last possible moment, Lara swerved, sending the bike into a long skid up onto a nearby sidewalk, surging up and over glistening pavement. It fishtailed, whipping her precariously over the narrow seat, slender figure swaying with this violent motion. She wrestled for control once more, urging the faithful bike on to higher speeds, weaving it amongst shadow-bathed lampposts, this skillful maneuvering throwing her pursuers off for a moment.
And now the peaceful serenity shattered beneath the vicious call of flying bullets, the ferocity of their movement chewing hard brick to Lara's left.
* * *
Above, he staggered bleeding and limping to the Archive's edge.
"Hey, crazy bitch, what the hell are you doing with my bike?" Kurtis murmured, narrowing cold eyes against the dramatic scene far below.
The dissonant thunder of gunfire reverberated within his ears. He shifted a hand against his throbbing abdomen, scowling as their bullets sparked against pavement mere inches from Lara and his precious baby.
*She better hope they kill her if anything happens to my motorcycle.* Kurtis thought, but his concern was not aimed entirely toward the sleek machine; most of it, in fact, rested with the woman perched aboard, fear rising thick within him as she hunched low to avoid their deadly fire.
The squeal of tires transcended the ricochet of bullets.
His gaze never strayed, cold and hard despite the worry swirling inside, nothing revealed within cerulean orbs that indicated any emotion whatsoever.
He inhaled deeply, and stepped over the side.
* * *
The night air grasped for his tumbling figure, the shredded remnants of his T-shirt billowing around hard muscles. He lifted his chin against this rush of chill air, its ferocity drawing tears free of squinting eyes. Rain swirled harder, more frantically around him, nipping at exposed skin, traversing torn and destroyed flesh. His arms windmilled behind him, clawing automatically for handholds, nothing but cold and damp air slipping between perspiring fingers.
His boots thrust against solid pavement, pitching him forward into the railing encircling the balcony he'd instinctively aimed for in his well-timed jump. The harsh impact plunged a breathy gasp from between chapped lips, expelling all breath from Kurtis' body.
He grasped chill metal for a moment, leaving his body draped across the railing, gasping and shivering beneath the rain's frigid touch.
A single exclamation raised his bowed and dripping head. He blinked once, peering through layers of darkness toward the street still far below.
His name rent the air in a single cry.
He blinked again, and his gaze surged to the motorcycle and its rider. As he watched, Lara thrust the bike into a sharp skid, one foot darting out to skim pavement as it spun 360 degrees to face the direction she'd come.
"Kurtis!"
He lifted a hand in a weak two-fingered salute. "Present." he whispered, a smile briefly touching tightly clamped lips. *Time to go.* Azure orbs analyzed the distance from his temporary sanctuary to the street glistening below. *Still too far.*
Lara screeched to a long halt directly below him.
"What the hell. You only live once." Kurtis said with a shrug, and hoisted himself over the railing.
* * *
He thrust both hands up as he fell, palms laid bare to the raging elements.
Ten feet below, the canvas awning once lying broken and mangled from abuse against the Archive's side now sprang outward, bucking in protest as his plunging body landed heavily against its saturated top.
A disturbing crack filled his sensitive ears, followed by the shriek of parting steel.
Kurtis' eyes widened. "Oh fuck. This is gonna' hurt."
But this abrupt halt of his motion, however momentary, had been enough to cushion the inevitable landing. He sagged gratefully to waiting blacktop, both knees almost giving before he pushed himself upright and stumbled the final few feet to Lara and his bike.
He drew his gun as he half-staggered toward her, steadying it with both hands and squeezing off a few rounds in the direction of their foe.
"About time you showed up, Kurtis." Lara yelled. She worked to carefully conceal any relief at his sudden appearance, cloaking this unwelcome emotion beneath an air of indifference.
"Just shut up and drive, Croft." he snapped coldly, the harshness of his voice sheathing his own intense flash of relief at seeing her still in one piece. "And if anything happens to my bike..." He trailed off, letting this unfinished sentence imply threats he knew would never be carried out, at least not against this woman, by his hand.
"Don't piss yourself. It'll make a nasty mess." she retorted, revving the engine.
Kurtis cinched a muscular arm around her small waist. "Less talk, more driving, Lara." he whispered close beside her ear, mouth grazing the tender flesh of her ear lobe.
"Less orders, more shooting, Kurtis."
The bike surged forward, thrusting him against her, his body molding to each lithe curve. He gripped her tightly, raising the Boran X in his left hand, both cerulean orbs converging on its sights as the dark vehicle spun a tight circle. It thundered once, and the windshield frosted over in an intricate spider web.
He smiled as the van careened wildly up onto the sidewalk, a devastating crunch ascending the night sky, its hood thrusting upward in response to the impact against a solid brick wall.
The Boran X disappeared into worn leather.
Kurtis twisted at the waist to position himself comfortably at her back, both large hands slipping over the toned muscles of her stomach to rest lightly against the warmth of her flesh.
"Are our little playmates out of the game?" she called back to him.
"Down for the count." he responded, the low sexy tone of his voice prompting a shiver down her spine.
"So soon, too. A bloody shame."
He smiled into the satin cord of her hair, turning his cheek to rest it against the bare skin of her neck, bending with Lara to keep the wind's chilling ripple off his body. The heat of her nearness seared every inch of him, a fire like molten lava flaming throughout every nerve. It was a vaguely disturbing sensation, and yet one he did not wish to draw away from, choosing instead to revel for a moment in this feeling that no woman had ever invoked in him before. Later, he could ignore this fierce attraction, pretend it never happened, put up his carefully-crafted wall once more.
They drove in silence, the restored tranquillity settling to gently embrace both, their breaths drawn in unison as damp and shimmering pavement scrolled beneath the motorcycle's humming tires.
Her scent assaulted his nostrils, a pleasant, tantalizing fragrance which he could not quite place, this new aroma intoxicating as he breathed its sweetness.
*Flashback*
Her supple body burned warm beneath the teasing caress of his wandering fingertips, tense and hard against him as he pressed her to his chest. His hand curved over hers, their fingers twining for a single moment as he snagged her gun.
It clattered loudly to hard tile.
A slight smirk curled smug lips. His hand slowly, lethargically traversed the soft curve of her shapely hip, brushing the now-empty holster strapped to Lara's right thigh. She shifted lightly against him, and he pressed the tip of his gun more firmly into her neck. One finger stroked the trigger guard, but did not slip to the trigger itself.
He moved now to her abdomen, dipping the callused pads of his fingers against the waistband of her camouflage pants, coarse material whispering against the work-roughened skin of his palm.
*End Flashback*
He recalled each detail with startlingly clarity, that moment in the Louvre one which had followed him even into his dreams. And when she had finally spun in his arms to face her attacker, he'd found his mind clouded with the sudden urge to lean in and kiss her. An absurd and idiotic instinct, particularly considering the circumstances, but it had existed nonetheless. He'd nearly done it, too, taken her mouth with his, tasted the tempting fullness of those lips, perhaps even dropped his gun to embrace her fully. She was a distraction, and distractions, in this line of work, were dangerous.
But, much as Kurtis hated to admit it, she was intelligent, and strong, and the task of halting a rebirth of the Nephilim race would not be an easy one. He needed help, something he wasn't used to, and this woman seemed to be just the one to give it to him.
*I'll just have to be careful. Make sure this stays completely business.*
And what a load of bullshit that was. He knew keeping things strictly as 'business' would be the most difficult assignment of his life, particularly since he would be working in close proximity with Lara nearly every day until this mess was sorted out. He possessed extreme self-control, something he'd spent his entire life perfecting, and now this Croft woman was threatening to chuck everything he'd ever learned out the window with a haughty toss of one hand.
She swayed in his arms, tearing Kurtis from his reverie. He took a firmer hold on her as their speed abruptly slackened, and said "Pull over," in a low and commanding voice.
The bike hissed to a stop in the middle of the street, rainwater pluming from beneath its tires.
Kurtis dismounted, striding around to face her, his finger probing the streaming wound in her shoulder. "This is bleeding too much."
"I've had a lot worse than this during my career. I don't need you fawning over me like I'm dying or something." she snapped, pulling away from him. *I don't need your pity or sympathy.*
"I'm not going to fawn over you, and you're not going to die. But you should have stopped the bleeding a while ago."
"Hmm, and when would I have taken time to tie it off? After jumping over the side of a building or while I was making a getaway on a stolen bike from madmen trying to kill me?"
"Hey, take it easy." Kurtis said, patting the air with both hands. He eyed her cautiously for a moment, then reached to tear a strip of material from his slashed T-shirt.
She swung a leg stiffly over the motorcycle's bulk, facing him now as he stepped nearer to her. "How chivalrous. You're giving me the shirt off your own back. I never realized you were such a gentleman, Kurtis."
"Not much left of it anyway."
"Yes, I noticed."
He peered upward through thick dark lashes as he bound her arm, amusement flickering for a moment in the depths of his unwavering gaze.
"I didn't mean your manly physique was arousing me, so you don't have to look so smug."
"Thought never crossed my mind."
"I'm sure."
He shook his head, and deftly knotted the makeshift tourniquet.
Lara eased both gloved hands onto shapely knees, entire body slouching in sudden fatigue. "Your the leader of this little excursion. Where to now? We still have no information on the location of the 4th shard. And not to offend your taste in slums, but I hate this city. My first visit was enough for me, and now after being chased by ugly, unkillable monsters and even uglier, more persistent men, I've decided Prague has secured a permanent place on my shit list."
"Prague has no special place in my heart either." He limped to his motorcycle and carefully seated himself beside her, easing himself gently to soft leather. "Only my father knew of the 4th shard's existence, until now. But I'm not sure even he knew where it was hidden. I was sure we'd find something useful in the Archives."
"But that was until we had to stage a rather dramatic escape. There could have been useful information, and we just didn't have enough time to collect it."
"Maybe."
"So, you got any bright ideas?"
He lifted both eyebrows. "Dim ones, maybe. No bright ones."
"I've found that most men are filled with dim ideas. The light bulb is usually a bit dusty in the average male brain."
Kurtis smirked. "Nice."
"I'm glad you agree with me."
"I wasn't-"
"Agreeing with me? Right. I'm sure in your heart of hearts you were silently nodding in approval to my observation of the male psyche."
"This is cute, Lara, but we don't have time to sit around trading insults. Karel must be stopped before he brings the entire Nephilim race back into existence. Those Proto Nephilim jackasses back at the Archives proved he's already starting."
"Yes, the whole 'save the world' plot again." Lara sighed, reaching to stroke away the beginnings of a raging headache. "I've played this game before. Many times."
His gaze shifted stealthily to her hunched figure, treading silver-edged features, settling to rest on full lips for a moment before hastily surging on. "The brotherhood of the Lux Veritatis were warriors of the Nephilim, sworn to forever combat their evil."
"Yes, and since you're the last of the order, it falls on you to stop Karel. I've heard this song and dance before, Kurtis." She paused, peering off into the distance, a swirling darkness suddenly present within steely eyes. "I hung up my pistols a long time ago. Until the whole business in Paris a few months ago, that is."
Kurtis stiffened at her words, wary that she had now decided to turn her back on him and part ways.
Beautiful dark orbs darted to his own, and their gazes held for a suspended moment in time. "I suppose it's time to dust them off again. Speaking of which, my .45 is still back at the Archives, and I blame you. You owe me a new gun. A nine-millimeter, semi-auto with a nice kick to it, I should think." She touched a finger to his chin, tilting it slightly so his brilliant gaze bore directly into her own. "That shouldn't be too hard for a person of your semi-legal character to acquire."
"I'm touched you think so highly of me." he replied, with a little smirk, casually tugging his face from her fingertips, as though the move were one rendered without thought. He felt the familiar instinct rise within him, the same one he'd experienced in the Louvre during those few breathless seconds when they had contemplated one another through eyes frosted in lust and confusion. The same instinct which seemed to rear its ugly little head every time she merely brushed against him, an abrupt, urgent need to know her taste, the feel of soft lips on his own.
*Stop it.* Kurtis commanded himself harshly.
He moved her aside, and slid to straddle the bike once more, brandishing the ignition key. "My turn to drive. With a key, this time." he said, giving her a stern look.
Lara lifted both hands in feigned innocence. "What did you expect me to do? You were AWOL, and I had a sneaking suspicion the men in that van didn't come bearing flowers and balloons."
The motor roared to life, its throaty growl purring beneath him lending some semblance of calm to his turbulent thoughts.
Above the machine's masculine call, the ominous growl of an approaching creature wafted to kiss waiting ears.
Lara's hands closed hard around his muscular waist. "These again? I thought you'd gotten rid of them!"
He shook clinging bangs from his eyes, and kicked the bike into gear.
Disclaimer: Tomb Raider is still not mine, nor are Lara Croft or Kurtis Trent. They belong to Eidos and (now) Crystal
Dynamics. If you still don't comprehend the fact that I own nothing, I advise you to seek help. Immediately.
Chapter Four
Nephilim
Strahov Archives
Prague, August 8th, 2003
They circled warily, evil intent glistening deep within swirling black madness. He sensed their hunger, a bloodlust which radiated from their very souls, the tang of death clinging thick to muscular bodies.
Perspiring fingers tightened around cold steel, the Boran X surging from body to body, its bullets raining down upon them, penetrating bone and flesh. Kurtis shook renegade bangs from his eyes, backing toward the farthest wall as he fired. He darted a quick glance out of the corner of one eye, and his heart stilled for a single moment.
She lay panting against the very wall toward which he retreated, pinned writhing against its mass by a brick shard pierced clean through the shapely muscle of her upper left arm. Its vicious touch dribbled gore down tanned and slick flesh, blood frothing and bubbling around its tip. Dark orbs held his own for a moment, frosted in agony.
"Pay attention to what your doing, you dumb Yank!" she snapped through pain-whitened lips. Slender fingers reached for the dagger-like shard, bucking restlessly against its chill rough surface.
Her eyes fluttered shut.
Kurtis spun, snapped off a quick shot, and lunged toward her, the Boran X disappearing into worn leather. He touched a surprisingly gentle hand to her cheek, cupping soft flesh in the sanctuary of his palm.
He slipped large strong fingers over her smaller ones, nudging her hand gently aside. "Hold still."
Lara tensed against him. "Get off me and start shooting those ugly little things again."
"I can't kill them. They're Proto Nephilim. Duplicates of the one that was eating people in the Sanitarium. Karel's been a busy boy." He eyed her. "This is going to hurt."
"Really, like it hurt going in?"
A scream ascended dust-thickened air, a primal call that perforated Kurtis' very soul, echoing within the deepest recesses of his mind. He felt something heavy upon him, its bulk pressed all along his back, tearing, shredding, frail material giving way to slashing claws.
"Oh fuck." he murmured.
She grasped the stone binding her to chill brick and yanked.
Kurtis swayed on his feet, reaching with another muttered curse for his weapon.
The Nephilim leapt.
Lara thrust herself off the wall in a single mighty shove, the brick shard out before her, its edge piercing sinew and muscle, her impressive strength ramming it deep. Gore exploded outward, painting sun-darkened flesh, hissing as it steamed within the crevices of her skin.
She gasped and stumbled backward, clutching her injured arm in a bloody hand.
"The window." Kurtis said, and indicated the single pane of glass located just behind Luther Rouzic's desk.
She hefted the desk chair in both hands, muscles bunching beneath this added weight, wound flaming in protest. At her side, Kurtis dropped into combat stance. The Chirugai hummed to life, its illumination playing over clenched features.
Kurtis curled powerful fingers in the holes pocking the Chirugai's exterior, and the weapon snapped open in his palm.
Lara heaved the chair.
The Chirugai spun out and away from its owner, responding to Kurtis' unspoken order, maneuvering past Lara's perspiring face to hack the swiping limb from a nearby Nephilim.
She ducked beneath the spray of broken glass against tender, exposed flesh.
Tinkling shards settled to rest at her booted feet, this glittering river lying silver and glistening across a rusted sill.
*This is the second time I've had to escape out a window in the past few days.*
Lara spun, and leapt for the sill, scrambling out into driving precipitation. She felt the warmth of his hand present within the small of her back, the heat of his body directly behind her as she rolled clear of broken glass.
The roof lay slick and treacherous beneath her. She skidded over its surface, both arms backpedaling for balance.
*Flashback*
Its bulk hovered above her, the helicopter's rotors whipping chill and damp air. Her lithe and shivering figure jerked beneath the wind's ferocious touch, head bowed as though in deference to the tempest raging overhead.
To her left, bullets sparked off the rooftop.
She felt the heat of their guns, the fading remnants of gun smoke searing sensitive nostrils.
Mahogany orbs slipped across the roof's surface, probing surrounding layers of darkness for some sanctuary, a safe haven in which she could take refuge.
None.
*End Flashback*
Kurtis' fingers sought her own, twining surprisingly easily, something that caught her attention despite their dire situation. He tugged her behind him, sprinting across the Archive's surface, ducking as he ran. His gun swung freely in the other hand, sleek beneath pounding rainwater.
The pain screamed through every nerve, brutal in its travel, thrusting her insides to violent fire. She trembled beneath its furious touch, legs buckling slightly beneath this cruel onslaught.
Her arm lay wet and crimson beneath a layer of blood.
"There's a ledge running along the side of the building. I'm going to swing you down. It's a good drop, but not one that's going to kill you."
"How comforting." Lara replied.
The harsh tramp of clawed feet rang out behind them.
"Jump!" Kurtis yelled, and shoved her toward the roof's edge, still tightly grasping her.
Her boots tread nothing but air for a single moment.
He half-crouched, leaning out and over the side, thrusting her lithe body free of hard brick.
She landed hard, falling panting against the wall for a moment, ragged breath heaving both slender shoulders.
Above, his dark head dissipated into the night.
She broke stride only for a moment, keen gaze surging upward to where she'd last glimpsed him. *He's going to get himself killed.*
* * *
The ebony fog of nighttime rose to claim him, a silent demon that clung like an eager lover to each hard curve. He carried the sheen of rainwater thick upon his body, its chill touch traversing shredded cotton to kiss exposed flesh.
Kurtis surged onward, through undulating shadows, feet drumming a dissonant tune against the pavement.
Their snorted breaths twined as one behind him, merging in a perverse dance.
* * *
Her numb fingers closed against solid steel.
The ladder rattled beneath her urgency, protesting such maltreatment. Lara descended with a speed she'd never thought possible, her feet barely touching down before she'd already lowered them another rung.
She'd discovered this escape route at the ledge's end, and silently thanked Kurtis for his foresight, hoping his sacrifice had not just cost him his life. The ground shimmered in silent wait below, its simplistic beauty marred only by a single parked car.
Her newly-acquired wound burned with a ferocity that plunged the world to blackness before her. She felt the slick of bile rise to glaze her throat, disturbed stomach acids roiling in her gut.
Above, the frightening sounds of pursuit transcended even the rain's cacophony.
* * *
He pushed himself on, faster, harder, muscles screaming, each breath agony. The Boran X bobbed at his side, long since holstered to increase his mobility. He skimmed trembling fingers across it now, lingering against the comforting heaviness. *How long could I hold them off with this? Long enough to knock a few down and get to my bike?*
Pain burned a slow, torturous path to his stomach.
Both knees buckled beneath him, skidding his muscular figure across the roof's glistening surface.
He flipped onto his back, driving a fist up, feeling bone give way beneath his powerful hit as the Nephilim bore down upon him. With a shriek it withdrew, dancing backward from this gasping, bleeding visage, Kurtis' blood pattering from between gnashing teeth.
He loosened his Chirugai.
His fingers glistened wetly beneath his own spilled gore, crimson thick upon them even as the tempest raging overhead sought to purify flesh. He groped weakly for his Glaive, latching onto a corner and ripping it free of the belt circling his hard waist.
They came for him in an ever-tightening circle.
Blood lust hung thick within the taut atmosphere. He sensed its presence all around, descending heavy and menacing against his weakened body.
The Chirugai clattered to hard pavement.
Both palms snapped open, long thick lashes fluttering as the power gathered and built within him. He felt it roiling just below the surface, its yearning to be free humming throughout him.
His lips parted in a final deep breath.
They surged over him, and the power exploded through his fingertips, hurling the deadly creatures off rain-slick rooftop. They scattered all about him, flung backward by this incredible force, falling prey to Kurtis' strange abilities.
"Take that, motherfuckers." he whispered.
The rain cooled errant rivers of bodily fluids with a light hiss of protest at such grisly work. He watched the blood stream in ribbons from his shattered body, blurred into incongruous lines by hazy vision.
*Why am I always the one getting injured? In the short time I've known this woman, I've been impaled, kicked off that platform in the Vault of Trophies, knocked unconscious, shot, and now clawed by ugly goddamn smelly little bastards which Karel is no doubt planning to take over the world with.*
He shook his head slowly, dark hair rustling over damp cement.
"Jesus Christ." Kurtis murmured, and coughed, this harsh exhalation jarring his entire body. He pushed himself slowly upright, trembling legs twitching restlessly for a moment before settling to a shaky rest beneath him.
He clutched his hard abdomen with one hand and stumbled forward a few steps, bent over at the waist in a fruitless attempt to quell the rising pain.
Below, he perceived the screech of tires struggling for purchase against sleek and moist roads.
"Sounds like our new friends aren't done yet." he said, and broke into a faltering run.
* * *
She surged panting through ambulant shadows, arms pumping at either side, booted feet disturbing pooling rainwater as she sprinted into the night's embrace.
Ahead, his motorcycle gleamed in silent wait, bathed only in the effulgent light of the moon. But of Kurtis himself there was no indication, and she chanced a quick glance over her shoulder at the darkened exterior of the Strahov Archives.
No movement.
*I don't have time to wait for him.* she thought, ignoring the sickening pang this revelation thrust throughout her. The Nephilim had apparently been only the first wave of Lara and Kurtis' new friends, accompanied by men armed with automatics in a dark vehicle. She heard the thrum of its exhaust, the searing stench of burned rubber rising over the purity of falling rainwater.
*He's probably dead anyway.* The thought did not comfort her, did not lessen the sting of her abandonment any. She should at least go back, see his body with her own eyes, not just roar off into the night to save her own ass, and on his bike no less.
His image danced before her, sarcastic smirk in place, dark locks tousled ruggedly, lending a sexiness to cold and hard features. The intensity of those cerulean orbs perused her with such precision that for a moment she imagined him standing before her, smiling and holding out a hand...
*I'm sorry, Kurtis.*
She swallowed hard against the sudden lump crusting the interior of her throat, and vaulted alone and weaponless onto his motorcycle.
*Only your survival matters. There isn't enough time to worry about anyone else.* a voice whispered within the deepest recesses of her mind. She had hardened after her experience in Egypt, become colder, less caring, less tolerant. And yet she knew this voice was not correct, that if this man perished tonight because of her, the knowledge would fester forever as an irreparable wound.
Deftly, Lara hot-wired his machine, the bike awakening beneath her in a masculine growl which penetrated her entire body.
She glanced up, squinting into thrashing precipitation, just in time to see the pursuing vehicle round a corner. Its headlights glowed against her for a single moment, edging lithe curves in brilliance.
She kicked the bike into gear, and wrenched it around hard.
The tires screamed for one terrifyingly drawn-out moment, brackish water ascending the sky in protest. She felt a breath catch and freeze within the confines of her throat, then slip with relief through full lips as the tires gripped damp pavement. It lurched forward, straight for her attackers, front tire rising into the air before touching down once more.
Lara hunched low over soaking handlebars, dark orbs converging on the oncoming van.
A grim smile touched full lips.
They rushed headlong toward one another, neither altering their path. She held the bike steady, gritting her teeth against the flaming agony in her left arm, clutching tight to the motorcycle's comforting bulk as the distance closed.
Twenty feet. Fifteen. Ten. Five.
At the last possible moment, Lara swerved, sending the bike into a long skid up onto a nearby sidewalk, surging up and over glistening pavement. It fishtailed, whipping her precariously over the narrow seat, slender figure swaying with this violent motion. She wrestled for control once more, urging the faithful bike on to higher speeds, weaving it amongst shadow-bathed lampposts, this skillful maneuvering throwing her pursuers off for a moment.
And now the peaceful serenity shattered beneath the vicious call of flying bullets, the ferocity of their movement chewing hard brick to Lara's left.
* * *
Above, he staggered bleeding and limping to the Archive's edge.
"Hey, crazy bitch, what the hell are you doing with my bike?" Kurtis murmured, narrowing cold eyes against the dramatic scene far below.
The dissonant thunder of gunfire reverberated within his ears. He shifted a hand against his throbbing abdomen, scowling as their bullets sparked against pavement mere inches from Lara and his precious baby.
*She better hope they kill her if anything happens to my motorcycle.* Kurtis thought, but his concern was not aimed entirely toward the sleek machine; most of it, in fact, rested with the woman perched aboard, fear rising thick within him as she hunched low to avoid their deadly fire.
The squeal of tires transcended the ricochet of bullets.
His gaze never strayed, cold and hard despite the worry swirling inside, nothing revealed within cerulean orbs that indicated any emotion whatsoever.
He inhaled deeply, and stepped over the side.
* * *
The night air grasped for his tumbling figure, the shredded remnants of his T-shirt billowing around hard muscles. He lifted his chin against this rush of chill air, its ferocity drawing tears free of squinting eyes. Rain swirled harder, more frantically around him, nipping at exposed skin, traversing torn and destroyed flesh. His arms windmilled behind him, clawing automatically for handholds, nothing but cold and damp air slipping between perspiring fingers.
His boots thrust against solid pavement, pitching him forward into the railing encircling the balcony he'd instinctively aimed for in his well-timed jump. The harsh impact plunged a breathy gasp from between chapped lips, expelling all breath from Kurtis' body.
He grasped chill metal for a moment, leaving his body draped across the railing, gasping and shivering beneath the rain's frigid touch.
A single exclamation raised his bowed and dripping head. He blinked once, peering through layers of darkness toward the street still far below.
His name rent the air in a single cry.
He blinked again, and his gaze surged to the motorcycle and its rider. As he watched, Lara thrust the bike into a sharp skid, one foot darting out to skim pavement as it spun 360 degrees to face the direction she'd come.
"Kurtis!"
He lifted a hand in a weak two-fingered salute. "Present." he whispered, a smile briefly touching tightly clamped lips. *Time to go.* Azure orbs analyzed the distance from his temporary sanctuary to the street glistening below. *Still too far.*
Lara screeched to a long halt directly below him.
"What the hell. You only live once." Kurtis said with a shrug, and hoisted himself over the railing.
* * *
He thrust both hands up as he fell, palms laid bare to the raging elements.
Ten feet below, the canvas awning once lying broken and mangled from abuse against the Archive's side now sprang outward, bucking in protest as his plunging body landed heavily against its saturated top.
A disturbing crack filled his sensitive ears, followed by the shriek of parting steel.
Kurtis' eyes widened. "Oh fuck. This is gonna' hurt."
But this abrupt halt of his motion, however momentary, had been enough to cushion the inevitable landing. He sagged gratefully to waiting blacktop, both knees almost giving before he pushed himself upright and stumbled the final few feet to Lara and his bike.
He drew his gun as he half-staggered toward her, steadying it with both hands and squeezing off a few rounds in the direction of their foe.
"About time you showed up, Kurtis." Lara yelled. She worked to carefully conceal any relief at his sudden appearance, cloaking this unwelcome emotion beneath an air of indifference.
"Just shut up and drive, Croft." he snapped coldly, the harshness of his voice sheathing his own intense flash of relief at seeing her still in one piece. "And if anything happens to my bike..." He trailed off, letting this unfinished sentence imply threats he knew would never be carried out, at least not against this woman, by his hand.
"Don't piss yourself. It'll make a nasty mess." she retorted, revving the engine.
Kurtis cinched a muscular arm around her small waist. "Less talk, more driving, Lara." he whispered close beside her ear, mouth grazing the tender flesh of her ear lobe.
"Less orders, more shooting, Kurtis."
The bike surged forward, thrusting him against her, his body molding to each lithe curve. He gripped her tightly, raising the Boran X in his left hand, both cerulean orbs converging on its sights as the dark vehicle spun a tight circle. It thundered once, and the windshield frosted over in an intricate spider web.
He smiled as the van careened wildly up onto the sidewalk, a devastating crunch ascending the night sky, its hood thrusting upward in response to the impact against a solid brick wall.
The Boran X disappeared into worn leather.
Kurtis twisted at the waist to position himself comfortably at her back, both large hands slipping over the toned muscles of her stomach to rest lightly against the warmth of her flesh.
"Are our little playmates out of the game?" she called back to him.
"Down for the count." he responded, the low sexy tone of his voice prompting a shiver down her spine.
"So soon, too. A bloody shame."
He smiled into the satin cord of her hair, turning his cheek to rest it against the bare skin of her neck, bending with Lara to keep the wind's chilling ripple off his body. The heat of her nearness seared every inch of him, a fire like molten lava flaming throughout every nerve. It was a vaguely disturbing sensation, and yet one he did not wish to draw away from, choosing instead to revel for a moment in this feeling that no woman had ever invoked in him before. Later, he could ignore this fierce attraction, pretend it never happened, put up his carefully-crafted wall once more.
They drove in silence, the restored tranquillity settling to gently embrace both, their breaths drawn in unison as damp and shimmering pavement scrolled beneath the motorcycle's humming tires.
Her scent assaulted his nostrils, a pleasant, tantalizing fragrance which he could not quite place, this new aroma intoxicating as he breathed its sweetness.
*Flashback*
Her supple body burned warm beneath the teasing caress of his wandering fingertips, tense and hard against him as he pressed her to his chest. His hand curved over hers, their fingers twining for a single moment as he snagged her gun.
It clattered loudly to hard tile.
A slight smirk curled smug lips. His hand slowly, lethargically traversed the soft curve of her shapely hip, brushing the now-empty holster strapped to Lara's right thigh. She shifted lightly against him, and he pressed the tip of his gun more firmly into her neck. One finger stroked the trigger guard, but did not slip to the trigger itself.
He moved now to her abdomen, dipping the callused pads of his fingers against the waistband of her camouflage pants, coarse material whispering against the work-roughened skin of his palm.
*End Flashback*
He recalled each detail with startlingly clarity, that moment in the Louvre one which had followed him even into his dreams. And when she had finally spun in his arms to face her attacker, he'd found his mind clouded with the sudden urge to lean in and kiss her. An absurd and idiotic instinct, particularly considering the circumstances, but it had existed nonetheless. He'd nearly done it, too, taken her mouth with his, tasted the tempting fullness of those lips, perhaps even dropped his gun to embrace her fully. She was a distraction, and distractions, in this line of work, were dangerous.
But, much as Kurtis hated to admit it, she was intelligent, and strong, and the task of halting a rebirth of the Nephilim race would not be an easy one. He needed help, something he wasn't used to, and this woman seemed to be just the one to give it to him.
*I'll just have to be careful. Make sure this stays completely business.*
And what a load of bullshit that was. He knew keeping things strictly as 'business' would be the most difficult assignment of his life, particularly since he would be working in close proximity with Lara nearly every day until this mess was sorted out. He possessed extreme self-control, something he'd spent his entire life perfecting, and now this Croft woman was threatening to chuck everything he'd ever learned out the window with a haughty toss of one hand.
She swayed in his arms, tearing Kurtis from his reverie. He took a firmer hold on her as their speed abruptly slackened, and said "Pull over," in a low and commanding voice.
The bike hissed to a stop in the middle of the street, rainwater pluming from beneath its tires.
Kurtis dismounted, striding around to face her, his finger probing the streaming wound in her shoulder. "This is bleeding too much."
"I've had a lot worse than this during my career. I don't need you fawning over me like I'm dying or something." she snapped, pulling away from him. *I don't need your pity or sympathy.*
"I'm not going to fawn over you, and you're not going to die. But you should have stopped the bleeding a while ago."
"Hmm, and when would I have taken time to tie it off? After jumping over the side of a building or while I was making a getaway on a stolen bike from madmen trying to kill me?"
"Hey, take it easy." Kurtis said, patting the air with both hands. He eyed her cautiously for a moment, then reached to tear a strip of material from his slashed T-shirt.
She swung a leg stiffly over the motorcycle's bulk, facing him now as he stepped nearer to her. "How chivalrous. You're giving me the shirt off your own back. I never realized you were such a gentleman, Kurtis."
"Not much left of it anyway."
"Yes, I noticed."
He peered upward through thick dark lashes as he bound her arm, amusement flickering for a moment in the depths of his unwavering gaze.
"I didn't mean your manly physique was arousing me, so you don't have to look so smug."
"Thought never crossed my mind."
"I'm sure."
He shook his head, and deftly knotted the makeshift tourniquet.
Lara eased both gloved hands onto shapely knees, entire body slouching in sudden fatigue. "Your the leader of this little excursion. Where to now? We still have no information on the location of the 4th shard. And not to offend your taste in slums, but I hate this city. My first visit was enough for me, and now after being chased by ugly, unkillable monsters and even uglier, more persistent men, I've decided Prague has secured a permanent place on my shit list."
"Prague has no special place in my heart either." He limped to his motorcycle and carefully seated himself beside her, easing himself gently to soft leather. "Only my father knew of the 4th shard's existence, until now. But I'm not sure even he knew where it was hidden. I was sure we'd find something useful in the Archives."
"But that was until we had to stage a rather dramatic escape. There could have been useful information, and we just didn't have enough time to collect it."
"Maybe."
"So, you got any bright ideas?"
He lifted both eyebrows. "Dim ones, maybe. No bright ones."
"I've found that most men are filled with dim ideas. The light bulb is usually a bit dusty in the average male brain."
Kurtis smirked. "Nice."
"I'm glad you agree with me."
"I wasn't-"
"Agreeing with me? Right. I'm sure in your heart of hearts you were silently nodding in approval to my observation of the male psyche."
"This is cute, Lara, but we don't have time to sit around trading insults. Karel must be stopped before he brings the entire Nephilim race back into existence. Those Proto Nephilim jackasses back at the Archives proved he's already starting."
"Yes, the whole 'save the world' plot again." Lara sighed, reaching to stroke away the beginnings of a raging headache. "I've played this game before. Many times."
His gaze shifted stealthily to her hunched figure, treading silver-edged features, settling to rest on full lips for a moment before hastily surging on. "The brotherhood of the Lux Veritatis were warriors of the Nephilim, sworn to forever combat their evil."
"Yes, and since you're the last of the order, it falls on you to stop Karel. I've heard this song and dance before, Kurtis." She paused, peering off into the distance, a swirling darkness suddenly present within steely eyes. "I hung up my pistols a long time ago. Until the whole business in Paris a few months ago, that is."
Kurtis stiffened at her words, wary that she had now decided to turn her back on him and part ways.
Beautiful dark orbs darted to his own, and their gazes held for a suspended moment in time. "I suppose it's time to dust them off again. Speaking of which, my .45 is still back at the Archives, and I blame you. You owe me a new gun. A nine-millimeter, semi-auto with a nice kick to it, I should think." She touched a finger to his chin, tilting it slightly so his brilliant gaze bore directly into her own. "That shouldn't be too hard for a person of your semi-legal character to acquire."
"I'm touched you think so highly of me." he replied, with a little smirk, casually tugging his face from her fingertips, as though the move were one rendered without thought. He felt the familiar instinct rise within him, the same one he'd experienced in the Louvre during those few breathless seconds when they had contemplated one another through eyes frosted in lust and confusion. The same instinct which seemed to rear its ugly little head every time she merely brushed against him, an abrupt, urgent need to know her taste, the feel of soft lips on his own.
*Stop it.* Kurtis commanded himself harshly.
He moved her aside, and slid to straddle the bike once more, brandishing the ignition key. "My turn to drive. With a key, this time." he said, giving her a stern look.
Lara lifted both hands in feigned innocence. "What did you expect me to do? You were AWOL, and I had a sneaking suspicion the men in that van didn't come bearing flowers and balloons."
The motor roared to life, its throaty growl purring beneath him lending some semblance of calm to his turbulent thoughts.
Above the machine's masculine call, the ominous growl of an approaching creature wafted to kiss waiting ears.
Lara's hands closed hard around his muscular waist. "These again? I thought you'd gotten rid of them!"
He shook clinging bangs from his eyes, and kicked the bike into gear.