Falling Blind: The Sentinel Wars Page 31

  His son. The boy hanging limp in Connal’s arm was Canaranth’s son. He’d survived.

  Shock and joy swelled under his ribs, stealing his breath.

  That his son had lived was a miracle. Being able to see the boy with his own eyes was more than Canaranth deserved or expected. And Ella was here as well, her heart beating out reassurance that she was alive.

  He took a step forward, reaching for his family before he realized he couldn’t let anyone know he was the boy’s father. Or how much he loved Ella. Down here, they would be tools used against him. If anyone suspected their connection to him, they would suffer for it.

  So instead of revealing how much he ached to take them in his arms, he put on a mask of indifference and addressed the Sanguinar. “Why are you here?”

  Connal stopped in his tracks. His pale eyes flared with light as he gathered his power. “I seek asylum. I bring tribute to Zillah.”

  “Zillah is . . . no more. You need to take your tribute and leave now.”

  Canaranth silently willed Ella to wake so he could see her face again, even as he begged her to stay asleep. Seeing him would be hard on her. And she might say something to give them away.

  “Who is leader here?”

  “I am,” lied Canaranth. “Now go before I gut you and feed you to my demons.”

  Connal’s eyes narrowed. “You lie. Your heart is racing. Now, why would you lie to me?”

  “Give me your tribute. I will take it to Raygh and request an audience for you.”

  “No. I’ll take it to him myself. Take me to him.”

  Connal’s eyes flared brighter, and Canaranth felt the sting of compulsion scamper over his mind. He tried to fight it, but he hadn’t fed in days, knowing that they needed to conserve what blood they had left. He was weak, and because of that, he turned and began walking.

  There was nothing Canaranth could do now. Not until Connal let go of his mind. But once he did, Canaranth would go and feed. And then he would come back for his family. He would take them by force if he had to, killing whoever got in his way, even if he had to drain every last Slayer they had to make it happen.

  Apparently, he was more like Raygh than he’d thought.

  * * *

  This labyrinth of underground tunnels was much more extensive than Cain had suspected. Claw marks were evident on the walls where the rock had been scraped away to widen the passages. It had been done methodically, intentionally, as if they needed the space to move something big.

  He made a mental note of it, but that was all the attention he could spare. This place was crawling with lesser demons, when it should have been mostly empty. The sun would be up soon, but until then, there shouldn’t have been nearly as many demons present as there were.

  The sheer number of creatures kept him on his toes as he cut them down. The smell of their blood and his sweat was going to alert others of his presence, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. His priority had to be Ella and her baby.

  Besides, the sooner he got this job done, the sooner he could get back to Rory. He didn’t like leaving her out there alone, unguarded. If not for her constant tug on his power, he would have been distracted with worry. But as long as she was drawing energy from him, she was alive. He took what solace he could from that.

  A pair of sgath slinked out from a narrow crevice, their green eyes glowing with hunger. They were small, young, but they were also fast and ferocious. They worked in tandem, circling him so that he was continually flanked.

  He bided his time, waiting for one of them to attack. With each second that ticked by, he felt the urge to hurry, but if he got himself killed, he’d be of no help to the humans.

  Finally, the one on his left coiled to pounce. As it flew up toward Cain’s throat, he stepped aside and cut through its brother’s snout. One of its eyes winked out as the other sgath hit the cave wall. Cain used its moment of stunned confusion to lop off its head, then made quick work of the injured beast.

  From down the corridor, he heard the telltale scratching of claws on stone. Hundreds of them. The scent of the sgath’s black blood pooling beneath them was like ringing a demon dinner bell.

  The time for patience was over.

  * * *

  The instant Raygh smelled the child draped over the Sanguinar’s arm, he knew what it meant. The boy looked completely human upon first glance, but his scent gave him away.

  Not only was the child half-Synestryn, he was Canaranth’s offspring.

  Raygh stretched out his hands. “Give the child to me.”

  The sudden tension that overcame Canaranth was more proof that Raygh’s first guess was correct. Still, his servant took the child from the Sanguinar and slowly carried him closer.

  The slight hesitation to let go of the boy thrilled Raygh, showing him one more of the many weaknesses Zillah’s previous lieutenant possessed.

  With a thought, Raygh woke the child, freeing him of the Sanguinar’s thrall. There were no tears or cries of fear. The child regarded him with calm, steady interest.

  “He is ours,” announced Raygh.

  “Of course,” said the Sanguinar. “Tribute in exchange for asylum. And food.”

  “Come closer.”

  The Sanguinar handed the sleeping woman to Canaranth, who cradled her as if she were a rare and precious thing.

  Yet another weakness waiting to be used against him. It truly was disgusting to watch.

  The Sanguinar knelt at Raygh’s feet, as was proper.

  “I will accept your tribute. And your blood.”

  “No,” said the Sanguinar. “My blood is my own. I will not allow you to control me.”

  “I already do,” said Raygh. “You came here bearing gifts, seeking asylum. That means you have nowhere else to go. You are in my home, in my presence. You are already stripped of all control. The rest is mere formality.”

  “Let me take the child from you, my lord, so you may more comfortably feed,” said Canaranth.

  Raygh tossed the boy at him, watching in amusement as he chose between which precious thing he let hit the ground. In the end, Canaranth eased the woman down just in time to throw his body under the boy’s, allowing himself to take the brunt of the impact.

  Interesting. And useful. If Canaranth was willing to suffer for the woman and child, then perhaps he wasn’t a lost cause after all. Raygh could use the humans to turn Canaranth into a true leader, rather than the weakling he currently was. Their kind needed more strong rulers.

  “I will not give you my blood,” said the Sanguinar.

  “I don’t expect you to give it. But I will take it.” And before the other man was able to move out of the way, Raygh grabbed him by the head and shoved his will into the Sanguinar’s mind.

  Connal was his name. He was desperate. Lost. Weak.

  Raygh held him still while he fed, sucking both blood and information from him.

  Zillah had tricked Connal into drinking his blood by masking it inside a pregnant human. And now that he’d had a taste, he wanted more. Human blood, Sentinel blood—none of it sated him—only the blood of an altered human breeding vessel had filled the void.

  Raygh pulled his mouth away, heedless of the blood that poured from Connal’s neck. “You think I’m going to give you the blood of my breeders?”

  “Zillah did.”

  Connal tried to break free, but he was weak compared to Raygh, who held him still without effort. “Zillah was a fool.”

  The Sanguinar’s voice became a desperate whine. “I was useful. I helped him.”

  “Yes, but now your people know of your treachery. You are useless to me.”

  Connal healed his wounds shut, but the process was slow, proving just how little strength was left in him. “I can help. I can find more women for you—women like Beth.”

  “Whom you killed.” Raygh had seen that in Connal’s memories.

  “I needed her blood.”

  Raygh studied him for a moment. Perhaps he could be of use, but if h
e would betray his own kind, he would betray Raygh as well. Better to not risk what was bound to fail. Besides, with the rest of the Sanguinar’s blood, Raygh would be strong enough to break through the last of the female Theronai’s defenses. Then she would come to him without a fight.

  “And I need your blood.” He gripped Connal’s hair and bent his head back. The Sanguinar hardly even struggled as he died.

  Chapter 29

  Cain wasn’t going to make it. Rory could feel his calm assessment of the situation as he tore through possible options for survival. She saw the wall of little demons sweeping toward him, like a fury, scaly flash flood. There was no way he was going to be able to take them all on before they killed him.

  It took only one bite to take him down. One little poisonous scratch.

  And then she realized what had just happened. All of the other visions had faded from her sight. She saw only through Cain’s eyes now. Her focus on him and his safety had been absolute, allowing her to control her sight.

  Not that it did her much good. That’s all she could see, as if she were right there with him. How the hell was she going to make it into the cave and to his side when she couldn’t see to get out of the car?

  Something tickled in the back of her mind, drawing her attention. Her fear for Cain grew until she was shaking with it. The only thing that mattered was getting into the cave. She had to go. Now. Before it was too late.

  Rory pushed out of the car, landing on the cold ground. She scrambled to her feet, using the car as a frame of reference. The only sight she saw was of Cain’s powerful arms cutting through dozens of demons, their black blood making the earth beneath his feet slick.

  The hood of the car was still warm. She tried to remember which direction the cave entrance was from here, but she’d never been good with directions, and had no clue which angle to take.

  Still, the need to move drove her forward. She tripped on dips in the ground, but stayed on her feet, walking in shuffling steps in what she hoped was the right direction.

  She must have veered off course, because she was pulled back to her left, as if an invisible rope had given her a hard tug.

  This way. She heard the thought whisper across her mind, its rasping voice cold and alien.

  A surge of fear rose up in Cain and he shouted a wordless warning in her head.

  Ignore him, said the voice. He needs you. Hurry.

  Of course Cain didn’t want her to come and help. He was always worried about her safety. But this time, he was the one in trouble. Not her. He needed her, and she was not going to let him down.

  Good pet. Hurry!

  Pet? That didn’t seem right, but she didn’t waste time worrying about it. The river of demons flooding around Cain’s feet was not slowing. He needed her to shield him.

  Rory hurried as fast as she could. She fell twice, but was back on her feet in seconds, pushing forward. When her hands hit the cold rock near the entrance of the cave, a sense of elation cascaded over her, making her shiver.

  More demons had surrounded Cain, but he had worked his way back into a crevice, protecting himself from attack on all sides. Each powerful swing was a killing blow, sending the heads and paws of multiple demons flying.

  Stay away! he warned. It’s a trap.

  A trap for him, based on the look of things.

  He needs you, whispered the cold voice.

  Rory agreed. She found the curve in the rock, smelled the dank, fetid stench of decay and knew she’d located the opening. With one hand on the wall to guide her, she picked up speed and raced blindly toward Cain.

  * * *

  The demon had broken free inside of Rory’s mind, and she didn’t even realize it.

  Cain forced his body to keep moving, his sword to keep swinging while he shouted continual warnings for Rory to stay away.

  Nothing he’d said had gotten through. She was convinced that he needed her. The demon had tricked her into believing the lie.

  He kept fighting. Sweat dripped into his eyes, burning. Most of the demons at his feet were small and easy to kill, but toward the back of the swarming mass he saw larger beasts shoving their way forward.

  As soon as they reached him and he had to turn his attention to them, the smaller Synestryn would break through his defenses. There was no way his sword could be in so many places at one time.

  He didn’t want to die. Not now, not when he’d just found Rory. He’d come to care for her, deeply. He loved her feisty spirit and her refusal to back down from what she believed was right. He loved her willingness to risk herself for others. He even loved her ridiculous pink hair and how it felt as it brushed his skin.

  They’d hardly had any time together. The luceria made him feel like he’d known her for years, and yet it only highlighted how little time they’d really had.

  But his regrets for what he’d never have were selfish compared to what that baby would never have. If Cain lost this battle, little Ethan would be lost as well. He couldn’t let that happen.

  His resolve fueled his limbs, forcing them to move faster. He didn’t spare any attention on what was behind the demons right in front of him. He focused only on cutting them down, watching as the Synestryn behind them pulled the corpses back to feed on them.

  Rory drew closer. He felt her pull energy from him so fast, it nearly burned. He couldn’t tell what she was doing with it—whether she would use it to help him or kill him. With the demon free in her mind, there was no way to know whose side she was on.

  Cain lifted his sword for another countless attack, but by the time his swing landed, the targets in front of him were gone. They’d been ripped away, screaming in fury as something shoved them back against the cave wall.

  Dozens of demons squirmed behind a faintly glowing blue wall. Some of them burst under the pressure, causing others to go into a feeding frenzy for the blood.

  Rory stood nearby, staring blindly into space. She wasn’t even facing the right way to see what she was doing.

  Her breathing was hard, and her skin was too pale. Her body shook under the strain of crushing the demons.

  More power flowed out of him, feeding her magic. She let out a hoarse cry of effort, and the demons behind the glowing wall were crushed into oily black slurry. The few that had escaped, rushed over to feed from the blood leaking out along the ground.

  Cain didn’t wait to see what she’d do next. While the demon in her head was still alive, she was a threat. Perhaps she wouldn’t kill him and cut off the source of her power, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t use his power to kill others. There were innocents down here, and it was Cain’s duty to make sure Rory didn’t hurt them.

  So, as he promised, he reached into her mind with the intent to render her unconscious. Only nothing happened. She stayed on her feet.

  That same blue light that had crushed the demons against the wall formed around him in a cylinder, pinning his arms to his sides. He felt his feet leave the ground, and as she walked deeper into the caves, Cain bobbed beside her like a balloon on a string.

  A slow, wicked smile curved her pretty mouth, and when she spoke, the voice that came out was not hers. It was a low, hissing threat. “She’s mine now. And so are you.”

  * * *

  Chain the human to my bed. Lock the child in a kennel in my room to ensure her cooperation.

  Those had been Raygh’s orders to Canaranth, given in such an arrogant, assuming tone it was obvious he didn’t even question whether or not Canaranth would obey.

  Is that what he’d become? A lackey who did what he was told without thought or opinion?

  Yes, Raygh could kill him with little more than a twitch of his finger. And yes, he was one of the Synestryn lords who ruled with ruthless control. But that didn’t mean Canaranth was a coward.

  He loved Ella as much as a monster like him was capable of loving anyone. And his child . . . he’d never thought to feel such profound hope as he had when he’d held his son in his arms.

  He’d
helped Ella escape once. And while he’d broken his promise to come find her, he’d done it for her own good. She was supposed to be safe behind the Sentinels’ hidden walls.

  If it weren’t for Connal, she still would be.

  Canaranth was partially responsible for the events that had led up to Ella being back inside the caves. If he’d defied Zillah, refusing to feed Connal, none of this would have happened.

  But it had, and now it was Canaranth’s job to protect his family.

  He carried Ella into a small stone chamber. Their son sat atop his mother, staring at Canaranth with huge, dark eyes. As he watched, plumes of inky black swirled within his irises, barely visible against the rich brown color.

  “I’m your father,” he told the boy. “I’m going to get you out of here. You and your mother will be safe.”

  He wasn’t sure how he was going to make that happen—Raygh would be furious that he’d been disobeyed. Still, it was worth whatever punishment he suffered to see his family back in the hands of the Sentinels.

  There were two of them here, now. He could smell them nearby. All he had to do was make sure they got out of here alive to take Ella and the boy away.

  It struck him that he didn’t even know his son’s name. What kind of father didn’t know such a fundamental fact about his own flesh and blood?

  With a twist of regret for things he knew he could never have, Canaranth shoved the compulsion of sleep away from Ella’s mind, waking her.

  She blinked several times. “Hello? Who’s there?”

  Her human eyes were no longer used to the dark the way they had been. And even then, she’d always needed some light to see. The lighter he carried had reminded him of her, and he once again put it to good use.

  The flame flared to life, shining over her face. The golden glow wrapped around her, as if it wanted to be a part of her. So pretty, so clean and soft.

  He’d missed everything about her, and only now had he realized how inadequate his memory had been compared to the real thing.

  “Canaranth?” she asked in disbelief.