Falling Blind: The Sentinel Wars Read online

  “I should just go. I don’t want to drag you into this any farther than you’ve already come. It’s my problem. I’ll deal with it.”

  “You’re one of us. Your problems are our problems.”

  The idea of belonging somewhere, of not being a freak among these people, was as tempting as it was terrifying. “It’s not something I really like to talk about.”

  Hope took her hand again, and Rory felt a strand of warmth weave up her arm. “Please.”

  “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you the truth.”

  “Can your secret really be any harder to believe than aliens?”

  When she put it that way . . . what harm was there in telling Hope? No one was going to believe a woman who claimed to be an alien, anyway.

  Rory dragged in a long breath and gave in to the urge to spill her guts. “I see things. Things I shouldn’t see. I just want them to go away and there’s someone out there who makes it stop.”

  Hope frowned, and it made her only more beautiful, which was, frankly, hideously unfair. “What kind of things?”

  “Everything. Random bits of mundane existence. Private things. It all shoves its way into my head and I don’t want it there. It’s too much. It hurts.”

  “And this person you’re looking for makes it all stop?”

  An image of some old dude taking a leak filled her head for an instant before fading away.

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t even know if it’s just one person I’m looking for. Maybe it’s more than one. All I know is that sometimes, when I move around the city, the visions stop when I get close to them.”

  “How do you know it’s a person?”

  “If it were a place, then I could stand in one location and the visions wouldn’t come back. I figured that whoever it is who’s helping me must move away. Drive off or something. I can’t ever catch up with them.”

  “It could be a magical artifact.”

  That was something Rory had never considered. She sat there for a minute in shock, considering the possibility. “I didn’t know such things existed.”

  “They do. I’ve seen them. Cain’s sword and scabbard are both examples of such things. That’s why you can’t see his sword unless it’s drawn.”

  Now that Rory thought about it, she hadn’t noticed his sword since the battle. “So someone could be walking around with a magic ring or something that could fix me?”

  “It’s possible.”

  That would certainly solve the problem of how she was going to convince whoever blocked her visions to teach her how they did it, or, heaven forbid, stick by her side all of the time. She wanted a cure, not a conjoined twin. If that was a solution, she could pay Cain to hold her hand for the rest of her life. Which would never work. She needed freedom. Independence. She knew that was going to be an obstacle, but it wasn’t one she felt she could plan how to overcome until she knew who it was she would be dealing with.

  Logan came in toting a bowl of soup.

  “We’ll find a way to help you,” said Hope. “Logan and I have powerful friends. Like Cain.”

  Logan set the soup down on a desk near the door. “Are you hungry?”

  Rory wasn’t, but he’d gone to all the trouble. It seemed rude not to at least take a few bites. “Sure.”

  Hope let go of her hand, and Rory’s arm went cold. She looked at the steam curling up from the bowl and realized that she had no idea what might be in it. These people wanted her to stay. They wanted her secrets. They could have easily drugged the soup.

  She’d told Hope things she’d never told anyone but Mom and Nana. And she hadn’t even hesitated to spill her guts just now. That wasn’t something Rory did. Ever.

  She looked at her tingling hand. There was a pink blotch where Hope’s fingers had touched. Drugs? Magic? Rory had no idea, but something had definitely left that mark.

  The woman that Rory thought she could trust had done something to her—removed her suspicion somehow. And she hadn’t even known it was happening.

  Stupid. Careless. Infuriating. Rory knew better than to trust anyone that much.

  “I need to go.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

  Logan sounded confused. “Aren’t you going to at least wait until Cain comes back to make sure there’s no sign of poison in the creature that stabbed you?”

  Cain was as much of a threat as Hope was. That man kept pulling her in, making her want to get closer to him. Touch him. Trust him. It had to be some kind of trick—some kind of magic or bizarre biochemistry she didn’t understand. Well, she wasn’t falling for it. Not this time.

  Rory stopped long enough to write her cell phone number on the wall. “Text me with the results. Don’t bother to call. I won’t answer.” In case they could do that hypnosis thing—or whatever it was—through the phone lines.

  “You’re scared,” said Hope. “I understand. When I thought I was alone, I was scared, too. But you’re not alone. We can help.”

  Hope’s voice was so kind, so full of genuine concern. The temptation to stay and soak it up was strong.

  “Thanks for fixing my knee,” Rory offered, then hurried out the way she’d come in. Sure, there were monsters out there, but she wasn’t entirely convinced that they weren’t in here, too. At least the monsters out there didn’t try to fool her into thinking they were anything but ravening beasts who wanted to eat her face.

  * * *

  Logan held Hope back from going after Rory. “Let her go. I’ve smelled her blood. If necessary, I can find her later. She needs some time.”

  Hope’s voice was bleak, making Logan’s heart weep for her. “She doesn’t have any clue how much danger she’s in, does she?”

  “She’s survived this long. I’d say that’s a good sign she does know.”

  Hope laid her head on his shoulder. “Do you think she’ll save Cain?”

  “Perhaps. Or she may lead us to someone who will.”

  Hope lifted her head to look at him. “You know something. What is it?”

  “Her blood smells familiar. I’m certain I’ve encountered one of her relatives. Perhaps a half sister.”

  “Wouldn’t you have known if you took blood from a Theronai?”

  “Not necessarily. I didn’t know with Helen. Her natural defenses masked her from me the way she was masked from Synestryn for a time.”

  “So there could be another woman like Rory out there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you remember where you came across this other woman, this half sister?”

  Logan nodded. “She was among those we rescued from Krag’s lair.”

  “Do you know where she is now?”

  “There was so much going on then. So much chaos. I assume she went to Dabyr with the others, but Rory slipped away.”

  “But you had this other woman’s blood. You could find her.”

  “Yes. And I will, but until I do, say nothing to Cain. She could just as easily have shared the same human mother rather than the same Athanasian father.”

  “Either way, it doesn’t matter. Rory is so alone. So isolated. I felt that when I touched her mind. Any family of hers we can find will make a difference, even if that family can’t save Cain or one of the others.”

  Logan stroked Hope’s honey-colored hair. “She’s one of us now. Part of our family. We will do whatever we can to bring her joy.”

  She looked up at him, her amber eyes shining. “And that is just one more reason I love you.”

  Chapter 5

  Cain was seeing things—proof of just how far he’d slipped over the past few months. As he walked in through the back door of the shelter, he was sure that he’d seen Sibyl. She’d stood there, staring at him in shock. Her face had been partially hidden by shadows, and he wasn’t yet as familiar with her adult face as he had been with her childlike appearance, but for a moment, he’d been sure that it was her.

  And then she was gone—slippin
g out through the kitchen door into the dining area. He followed after her, but there was no sign of anyone passing this way. No lights, no movement . . . nothing but the aching hole Sibyl had left behind.

  If he’d slipped down to the point of hallucination, he didn’t have much time left. He needed to see Rory settled safely at Dabyr. Now.

  He turned and went back to the safe room, carrying a mostly intact demon for Logan to study. As soon as he entered the room, he knew Rory was gone. The space felt empty without her, echoing and lifeless in her absence.

  Anger surged and bubbled beneath his skin as he spotted Logan burning her clothes. It sharpened his tone, but he couldn’t help that. “You let her go? Alone?”

  “It was my fault,” said Hope. “I compelled her to trust me so she’d tell me what she was hiding. I’m not very good at that kind of thing yet, and the moment my magic wore off, she knew what I had done. It spooked her. I’m sorry.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, love,” said Logan. “Rory is not as susceptible to our skills as a human would be. At least you got her to talk. Now we know the source of her pain.”

  “Who’s hurting her?” demanded Cain. He would find this person or demon and destroy it. Just the thought had his blood pumping through his limbs in eagerness.

  Since meeting her, he’d been buoyed by a heady sense of purpose. Her need drove him forward, compelling his actions as strongly as any vow he’d ever given.

  Hope shook her head, making her blond ponytail sway. “It’s not like that. She has visions of some kind. She’s looking for the person she thinks stops them.”

  “Visions? Of the future?” Sibyl had those, and the knowledge of what would happen to those she loved haunted her. Cain often worried about how she dealt with them now that he was no longer there to comfort her.

  “She wasn’t specific. All I know is she sees things and these visions clearly hurt her.”

  That’s what he’d seen before his collapse—her face twisted with fear and pain.

  The idea of her out there alone was bad enough, but knowing she was out there alone and suffering was too much for him to stand. He had to find her. Help her. He wasn’t sure what he could do, but he’d figure out something.

  He could help.

  The thought whispered through his mind, tempting him with things he knew better than to believe. He couldn’t afford to trek up that mountain of hope again. This time the fall would kill him.

  His focus had to be on finding her and seeing to her safety. Anything beyond that was too dangerous to risk with him being this close to his end. He had only two leaves left clinging to his lifemark. Once they were gone, his soul would die, and along with it, the fundamental core of him that made him who he was. He couldn’t afford to speed up that process by lying to himself. Rory clearly didn’t want to have anything to do with him. If that didn’t warn him away, he deserved whatever he got.

  “I’m going after her.” He tossed the small demon on the gurney. “Cut this thing up and figure out if it’s a threat to her.”

  “How are you going to find her?” asked Hope.

  Logan set the demon on a metal tray. “Did you leave a bloodmarker on her?”

  Cain should have been smart enough to leave a magical tracking mark on her skin, but he hadn’t exactly been thinking straight at the time. Once he’d touched her, all he’d been thinking about was how good it felt. “No.”

  “Then you’re going to need her cell phone number. I’m sure Nicholas can track it. And if not, come back here. I’ve smelled her blood. I should be able to find her if she stays in the city.”

  “I’ll find her.”

  “And when you do?” asked Logan.

  “I’ll bring her back here. You can take her to Dabyr.”

  “You won’t claim her for your own?”

  Hidden dreams tried to bubble to the surface, but Cain shoved them back down. He refused to do this to himself again. “She may be like Jackie. She may be able to choose who she wants. If so, she should have the chance to make that choice.”

  “I realize Jackie hurt you, but that doesn’t mean Rory would do the same.”

  Cain hadn’t told anyone about that, which meant Logan had gone where he wasn’t welcome.

  Fury blasted along Cain’s bones. He lunged for Logan, but the Sanguinar was faster, darting behind a table, out of reach.

  “Don’t you dare try to get in my head again,” Cain warned.

  Logan held up his hands and kept his voice calm. “I meant no harm. You know as well as I do that Jackie’s ability to bond with any of the Theronai is a rare thing—one Rory is not likely to possess. You also know that Rory will be far more able to protect herself if she has access to your power. I was thinking only of her safety.”

  While all of that was true, Cain couldn’t let himself be swayed. He wouldn’t survive another blow like the one Jackie had delivered. She hadn’t done it intentionally, and he couldn’t blame her for making the choice she had, but the effect was still the same. He couldn’t allow himself to grow attached to the idea of Rory or any of the achingly beautiful things she represented. “I’ll bring her back here and you’ll take her to Dabyr. Understood?”

  “I know how close you are to the end. If you want her to go to Dabyr, you’ll have to be the one to take her. I won’t help you kill yourself.”

  Was that what Cain was trying to do? He didn’t want to die. He fought as hard as he ever had. The only difference was that now he wasn’t doing it to protect his little girl. It was merely habit—something he did because he’d always done it. His vow to protect humans drove him on, compelling him to keep fighting. There didn’t have to be more meaning to his life than that. It was enough.

  And if it wasn’t, he’d pretend that it was until it no longer mattered.

  “We struck a bargain,” Cain felt compelled to remind him. “I make sure that the demons stay away from Hope’s beloved shelter, and you will end my life once I’m imprisoned below Dabyr, after my soul dies.”

  “I’ll uphold my end of the bargain, but I won’t make it easy for you to give up. Think of Sibyl. The poor girl has already lost both parents. Does she deserve to lose you, too?”

  The wave of guilt punched him in the gut, but he refused to let the Sanguinar know he’d landed a hit. Cain didn’t even blink. “She made it clear she didn’t need me anymore. She’s a grown woman and has a life of her own now, as it should be.”

  “She’s enjoying her newfound freedom now, but one of these days, she’ll need advice or help, and you need to be alive to give it.”

  “Don’t you think that’s what I want?” Cain bellowed. “I don’t have a death wish. But I’m a realist. I know how slim the chances are that Rory would ever agree to be with a man like me.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why,” growled Cain. “You know why Sibyl left. I failed to protect her. My sole job was to keep her safe, and I let the demons steal her away.”

  “Rory doesn’t know about that. And you don’t have to tell her.”

  “My failure hangs around me like a shroud for all to see. And Rory sees more than most.” Or perhaps he merely felt her gaze more keenly than anyone else.

  “So, you’re not even going to ask Rory to save your life?”

  He had tried with Jackie. It hadn’t worked out for him, but at least his brother’s life had been saved. He was grateful for that. “I’m not going to discuss this with you. Call me when you know if Rory was poisoned or not. And in the meantime, I’m going to go find her and keep her in sight—the way you should have done.”

  “Don’t push her, Cain,” said Hope. “Determination and pride run through her aura as brightly as her fear and pain. She’s not like other women. You push her, and she’ll push back. Hard.”

  “Thanks for the advice, but I think I can handle one small woman.”

  * * *

  Maura stayed hidden in the supply closet, waiting for the frantic pounding of her heart to slow. Cain had seen her. She had fe
lt his gaze fall on her, seen it light with recognition. Why he hadn’t come hunting for her, she had no idea.

  But his easy recognition answered at least one of Maura’s questions. Sibyl—Maura’s twin sister and Cain’s ward—must have been released from the prison of her child’s body at the same time Maura had. It was the only thing that Maura could think of that would explain how he’d recognized her so easily.

  Maura cowered in her hiding place, straining to hear some sign that she was alone—that the giant, Cain, was not waiting for her in the hall.

  She’d stayed here too long. These humans who sheltered her believed she was one of them. Even worse, she was starting to feel as if she belonged. She ate beside them, slept beside them. Never once had they questioned her presence among them.

  Not one of them knew the things she’d done to them—to their children. If they had, they would have slit her throat in her sleep, and she would have been powerless to stop them. Now.

  There had been a time when even the most powerful Synestryn lords feared her. One touch from her and they’d die screaming in pain. But those days were gone. Her power, her ability to see the future, her connection to her sister . . . all stripped from her the day her mother had died and freed Maura from her child-sized body.

  She wore the costume of a grown woman, but inside, she was afraid all the time. She belonged nowhere—not among the Sentinels, and certainly not among the humans. She was a twisted, wicked thing who had turned on her own kind out of rebellion, but not even the Synestryn would want her now. With no powers, she’d mean nothing to them. They’d use her for her blood and drain her dry.

  It was better to hide, but she could no longer stay here at this shelter—not when the risk of Cain seeing her was so high. Better to leave now, while she still could, because the only thing she could think of that would be worse than being drained of her blood by demons, would be to face those she’d betrayed and watch them look upon her with pity and disappointment.

  Maura slipped from the closet and hurried to her bed, being careful not to wake the few other women nearby. Underneath her bed was a locked suitcase that held a few items of clothing and a little cash. She wasn’t sure where she’d go or what she’d do, but there was no more time to linger here, accepting the kindness of those who ran this place. And now that Logan was here with Hope, it was only a matter of time before Maura was found out. She couldn’t avoid him forever.