leave the door open. Which means—
He caught a movement so faint it might have been a hallucination. He focused in on it. The silhouette of a woman being strangled emerged. Her long, silvery hair fluttered as she struggled against a hooded figure tightening a garrote around her neck.
Treflee! His heart pounded into overdrive.
Hang on, baby! He took off at a run up the sand hills toward the house, praying he’d arrive in time, willing her to fight right, fight smart. Hoping she’d remember what he’d taught her. Fight the attacker, not the hold, Tref!
* * *
Instinctively, Treflee clawed at the lei around her throat. Her gloves got in the way.
Get loose! Get air!
A plastic flower broke off in her hand. She tossed it away without thinking, pulled off her gloves and dropped them, and felt the strain of the exertion immediately.
Crap! Every molecule of oxygen counted now. Every single one.
She tensed her neck and struggled to get her fingers between her throat and the cord. Her attacker reacted by wrenching harder. The plastic cord gave, stretching just slightly before he could wrench again and correct it. Enough for her to get half a breath. If she were very lucky, the cord would snap completely. But somehow getting the strangler to keep twisting and tightening in the hopes the cord snapped before she did seemed like a flawed strategy.
She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t smell. Couldn’t cry out.
She stumbled, fighting to stay on her feet.
Behind her, the man with the plastic lei breathed evenly and calmly in her ear, so close she could feel his body heat and sense his excitement.
She bet he had a hard-on as he killed on little cat feet while she panicked and struggled futilely as her cousin and friends dished about their evening in the surrounding rooms. Without strain or a single grunt to give him away and bring them running. Extinguishing her life as easily as he sipped rum on the beach. Damn him!
Her eyes stung. Her throat burned. Her body felt like a lead weight pulling her down.
Memories. Her life flitting before her eyes? Ty’s voice echoed in her head.
Fight the attacker, not the hold, Tref!
Through the haze of her quickly fogging brain, she remembered now what he’d shared with her from his training.
She dropped her chin against her chest, which bought her a quick, shallow breath. Enough to give her a burst of strength.
Act quickly! Mean it! You’ll only get one chance.
Adrenaline driving her, she threw her arm out in a forty-five-degree angle, made an elbow, and slammed it behind her directly into her attacker’s stomach.
He let out an oomph and doubled forward, loosening his grip enough for her to take a breath.
Before he could recover, she pounded a fist downward into his groin, just like Ty had taught her.
He groaned and bent farther forward, dropping the lei to clutch his crotch. She caught a deeper breath and pulled the lei off, noticing a Chinese character tattooed on her attacker’s neck as she did.
Her animal instincts called for blood. Finish him, finish him, finish him!
She was too weak in body and too gentle in spirit to give in to the bloodlust. She bent over, hands on knees, hair falling forward over her face, and took a breath that ached all the way down her throat into her chest. Nothing had ever hurt that good before.
Run! her mind screamed. Escape!
She would have. If she could only make her feet of clay move. She should have. Behind her, the happy strangler had stopped groaning and started softly cursing. Or so she assumed. She didn’t exactly understand the language he spoke. Which meant nothing good on all fronts.
She had at her disposal, just a wall or two away, several lady cops, a large wahine, and a nurse. She only had to call them. She opened her mouth to yell and did a pitch-perfect impression of the silent scream.
She heard something rustle just outside the balcony door and looked up, brushing the hair from her face.
Ty
He caught a movement so faint it might have been a hallucination. He focused in on it. The silhouette of a woman being strangled emerged. Her long, silvery hair fluttered as she struggled against a hooded figure tightening a garrote around her neck.
Treflee! His heart pounded into overdrive.
Hang on, baby! He took off at a run up the sand hills toward the house, praying he’d arrive in time, willing her to fight right, fight smart. Hoping she’d remember what he’d taught her. Fight the attacker, not the hold, Tref!
* * *
Instinctively, Treflee clawed at the lei around her throat. Her gloves got in the way.
Get loose! Get air!
A plastic flower broke off in her hand. She tossed it away without thinking, pulled off her gloves and dropped them, and felt the strain of the exertion immediately.
Crap! Every molecule of oxygen counted now. Every single one.
She tensed her neck and struggled to get her fingers between her throat and the cord. Her attacker reacted by wrenching harder. The plastic cord gave, stretching just slightly before he could wrench again and correct it. Enough for her to get half a breath. If she were very lucky, the cord would snap completely. But somehow getting the strangler to keep twisting and tightening in the hopes the cord snapped before she did seemed like a flawed strategy.
She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t smell. Couldn’t cry out.
She stumbled, fighting to stay on her feet.
Behind her, the man with the plastic lei breathed evenly and calmly in her ear, so close she could feel his body heat and sense his excitement.
She bet he had a hard-on as he killed on little cat feet while she panicked and struggled futilely as her cousin and friends dished about their evening in the surrounding rooms. Without strain or a single grunt to give him away and bring them running. Extinguishing her life as easily as he sipped rum on the beach. Damn him!
Her eyes stung. Her throat burned. Her body felt like a lead weight pulling her down.
Memories. Her life flitting before her eyes? Ty’s voice echoed in her head.
Fight the attacker, not the hold, Tref!
Through the haze of her quickly fogging brain, she remembered now what he’d shared with her from his training.
She dropped her chin against her chest, which bought her a quick, shallow breath. Enough to give her a burst of strength.
Act quickly! Mean it! You’ll only get one chance.
Adrenaline driving her, she threw her arm out in a forty-five-degree angle, made an elbow, and slammed it behind her directly into her attacker’s stomach.
He let out an oomph and doubled forward, loosening his grip enough for her to take a breath.
Before he could recover, she pounded a fist downward into his groin, just like Ty had taught her.
He groaned and bent farther forward, dropping the lei to clutch his crotch. She caught a deeper breath and pulled the lei off, noticing a Chinese character tattooed on her attacker’s neck as she did.
Her animal instincts called for blood. Finish him, finish him, finish him!
She was too weak in body and too gentle in spirit to give in to the bloodlust. She bent over, hands on knees, hair falling forward over her face, and took a breath that ached all the way down her throat into her chest. Nothing had ever hurt that good before.
Run! her mind screamed. Escape!
She would have. If she could only make her feet of clay move. She should have. Behind her, the happy strangler had stopped groaning and started softly cursing. Or so she assumed. She didn’t exactly understand the language he spoke. Which meant nothing good on all fronts.
She had at her disposal, just a wall or two away, several lady cops, a large wahine, and a nurse. She only had to call them. She opened her mouth to yell and did a pitch-perfect impression of the silent scream.
She heard something rustle just outside the balcony door and looked up, brushing the hair from her face.
Ty
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