Page 82 of Isabelle’s Forbidden Love

“Isa, crouch down,” he ordered.

When she did, he bent down, still shielding her with his body, then used the bolt cutter to sever the chains around her ankles. She was free. They rose together, Isabelle still with her back to the wall, and Orlando still shielding her with his broad body.

“Sending the EMP now!” Eddie announced through the comms. “Three, two, one.”

There was a short moment when static crackled in his ear, then silence—except for one thing: the beeping coming from the bomb continued. The electromagnetic pulse hadn’t worked on the bomb, though it had taken out the communication system and the lights.

Shit!

“We’ll make a run for it,” Isabelle implored him.

He nodded and lifted her into his arms, then charged toward the door, running sideways, so the bomb was behind his back at all times and Isabelle was still shielded by him. They reached the corridor, when the bomb exploded, destroying part of the wall. The shockwave lifted Orlando off his feet, and with Isabelle in his arms, he landed on the ground, debris raining down on him, while she was buried beneath him.

There was ringing in his ears, a result of the deafening sound of the blast.

“Isa?” He could barely hear his own voice. “Isa? Are you all right?”

43

Samson heard the explosion just as he rounded a corner where he’d seen a movement. The sound of the blast distracted him for a split second. During that time, he realized that the EMP hadn’t destroyed the bomb, and the power of the vibrations which he could feel beneath his feet, meant that there was little chance that Isabelle had survived.

Fury and pain charged through him in equal measure. How would he tell Delilah that their baby was gone? It would break her heart, just like it was breaking his. Their life would never be the same again. He wished this was only a nightmare, and he would wake up, bathed in sweat, but with the knowledge that Isabelle was alive. But this wasn’t a nightmare, it was reality. A reality in which they’d trusted the wrong man. A man who would now pay for his crimes.

Samson focused on the corridor before him, zeroing in on the person who was trying to disappear through a door to his left, and lunged for him. He lifted Nelson Sarduni off his feet and slammed him against the wall.

“You’re gonna pay for this,” Samson swore.

Nelson pushed himself off the wall, sneering. “You shouldn’t have sheltered a murderer!”

He pulled his gun from its holster, but Samson was faster and kicked it out of his hand so it fell to the ground and slithered a few feet farther away from them. Samson punched his opponent in the neck, but Nelson was no willing punching bag. He returned every kick and every blow with the same fervor as Samson. That was fine with him. The physical pain meant nothing to him now. All that counted was to make Nelson suffer for what he’d done. He didn’t deserve a quick death.

Samson felt his hands turn into claws and his body harden. His vampire side was taking over now. Without pause, he slashed through Nelson’s chest, leaving deep gashes from which blood oozed. It impregnated the air around them. Samson kicked with his feet, slashed and stabbed with his claws, and catapulted Nelson against the wall again and again. He heard the sound of ribs breaking, but his opponent didn’t go down. He continued to defend himself. Nelson’s claws sliced through Samson’s upper arm. Blood gushed from the wound, but Samson barely felt it, too determined to turn Nelson into pulp. But Nelson was strong, and he managed to land a few well-placed kicks and punches, sending Samson reeling.

Maybe it was the pain of losing Isabelle that made Samson charge toward Nelson again and again, maybe the adrenaline was helping him weaken his opponent, because finally, Nelson tumbled backwards, lost his balance, and landed on his back. Samson didn’t lose a second, and jumped onto him. With his knees he pinned Nelson’s arms to the ground, then he began to pummel his face as if it was a boxing speed bag. Nelson tried to pull his arms out from under Samson’s knees to protect his face and fight back, but Samson kept the pressure on, and he was unable to move.

Nelson was at his mercy now. His face was bloody, his features distorted, the nose broken, the front teeth smashed in. But it wasn’t enough, not yet. Despite the groans of pain that came from Nelson, Samson couldn’t stop. This vampire had to suffer for what he’d done, for robbing him of his daughter. Samson felt his vision blur, and knew that tears were streaming down his face now.

“Dad.” Isabelle’s soft voice drifted to him. It sounded so close, so real, but he knew he was hallucinating. Isabelle was gone.

“Dad.” This time the voice was accompanied by a hand on his shoulder.

He whipped his head around. He blinked, once, twice. But the image before him didn’t change. Isabelle stood only a couple of feet away from him, Orlando next to her.

“Isa,” he murmured and rose.

A second later, Isabelle was in his arms, and he was hugging her tightly. “Sweetheart, when I heard the blast…”

“I’m okay. Orlando got me out of there in time.”

Samson felt a sob burst from his lips. “Oh, sweetheart, I thought we’d lost you.” It was a relief to feel her breathing, and to hear her heartbeat. Everything would be all right now.

Hugging Isabelle to his chest, he looked to where Orlando was still standing, wanting to thank him for risking his life for Isabelle. But Orlando didn’t meet his gaze. Instead, he suddenly pulled his gun and aimed.

* * *

Isabelle swallowed away the rising tears and hugged her father closer, when a movement past his shoulder made her focus on the spot where LaRuson had lain bloodied and beaten. With horror, she saw that LaRuson had managed to sit up halfway. He had a gun in his hand and was lifting it toward Samson.

Unable to warn her father, Isabelle used all her bodyweight to lift her father off his feet and dove to the side with him. A gunshot rang out just as they crashed to the ground. Then another sound as if something metal was clattering to the concrete floor reached her ears.