Dying Wish: A Novel of the Sentinel Wars Page 7

  Iain handed the locket to Jackie. She opened it and pulled in a shocked breath. “She’s beautiful.”

  “Yes,” he agreed.

  “And you miss her, even after all these years?”

  “I loved her.” And now he couldn’t even remember what that had felt like. Sorrow, joy, eagerness…all of those he could remember, but love had been lost to him for a long time.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered as she closed the locket and handed it back to him.

  Her bare skin accidentally brushed his, and his constant pain fled for that single, brief moment. And there was a flash of something else—something he couldn’t quite recognize—as if a curtain had been parted for a split second, only to fall back into place before his eyes had time to focus. Then her touch was gone, and agony came crashing back.

  He braced himself for its return, but it was always worse than it had been before. Every time he stopped touching her, the pain was more intense, more demanding. It sliced through his skin, cutting deep. It ground at his bones and crushed his organs. His blood caught fire, scorching his veins as his entire world lit up with agony. It took every ounce of discipline and self-control not to draw his blade and lash out at the one who’d hurt him. Jackie. He could kill her so easily. It wouldn’t even take any effort at all to break her slender neck so she could never again hurt him.

  The monster in him cheered at the idea, banging at its bars. One moment of freedom. That’s all the beast needed to make the pain stop.

  He locked his knees, gritted his teeth, and tried to remember to breathe through the pain, but with lightning bouncing around inside his skull, thought was nearly impossible.

  Jackie gasped. “I keep forgetting about that,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

  Her words were a hollow echo at the end of a long tunnel. The pain bore down on him, making everything else inconsequential. All he could think about was making it stop. Forcing her to make it stop.

  He reached for her blindly, knowing that only she could end this torment. His fingers found smooth fabric. Her sleeves. He quested up until he found the warmth of her neck and face.

  Instantly, the agony eased, as if he’d been doused in cool water, washing it all away. He was left feeling buoyant, light. The monster that was his constant companion quieted, no longer screaming and pounding at his insides. He felt…at peace for the first time in years, perhaps decades.

  He couldn’t let her take that away, sending him spiraling back inside the pain. If she did, he wasn’t sure he could remember not to kill her.

  Iain’s vision had not yet returned, so he couldn’t read her face. He pulled her tight against his chest, spearing his fingers through her hair to hold her in place. He could feel her rapid breathing washing out over his arm, feel her frantic heartbeat beating against his chest.

  He’d scared her.

  Something faint fluttered inside of him—some feeling he’d lost long ago. He didn’t like her fear. He liked even less that he’d been the one to cause it. He wished he could take her fear away and give her some sense of happiness and safety.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he said, hoping it was true. He couldn’t think of what else he could say to make her feel better. He couldn’t stop touching her. Not yet, not with his pain lurking, huge and terrifying.

  “Let me go,” she said, but it wasn’t a command. Her voice was weak and breathless.

  “I will. Just give me a minute. Please.” He needed time to regain control and ensure that his beast was safely caged.

  He felt her give a tentative nod. He could smell the shampoo she’d used, along with something else. He dragged the scent into himself, trying to figure out what it was, and why he found it so compelling.

  Slowly, his sight returned. At first it was only gray, but then the color returned, too, as his field of vision expanded.

  He spotted their reflection in the mirrored closet doors and froze. She was leaning into him, as if he’d pulled her off-balance. Her cheek was pressed to his chest, and her whole body was shaking. One hand was splayed on his shoulder, and the other was wrapped around his biceps, against his bare skin. Her fingers tightened, kneading his muscles. Tingling heat bubbled out from everywhere skin touched skin, and the only thought he could muster was what it would be like to get the two of them naked and rubbing against each other.

  He could see her face clearly in the mirror. Her lips were parted, and her gaze was focused on where her hand met his skin. Her eyes were huge and dark, haunted by a look of such longing that he instantly wanted to give her whatever it was she needed. A deep blush stained her cheeks, spreading down to her throat.

  He’d been with a lot of women over the years, and he knew what they looked like when they were aroused. And Jackie was definitely that.

  Iain felt his cock stir, twitching beneath his jeans. Shock hammered into him, stealing his breath.

  He hadn’t gotten hard in decades.

  And then he realized something else. Since the moment he’d touched her, he’d begun to feel again. Regret, lust, surprise. Those things had been long dead in him, but one touch from Jackie and those lost things began to come back.

  Hope. Blessed, vital hope budded inside, barely flickering with life. Maybe she could save him.

  She caught his gaze in the mirror. A look of horror crossed her face and she shoved herself away, breaking contact.

  Pain exploded in a fiery blast. Those fleeting emotions he’d felt were incinerated in a split second, and all that was left was the enraged monster breaking out of its cage, ready to kill.

  He took a step toward her, but fell to his knees as the agony bore down on him. Then suddenly, it all went away. Everything went away.

  Chapter 6

  It was not even sunset, and Tynan was already overwhelmed. Nicholas’s stab wound hadn’t been bad, and he’d paid for his healing and the removal of his memory in blood, but Grace’s condition had deteriorated in the past few hours, and now Tori had seemingly become homicidal. And all of it was his problem to fix.

  He had to make a quick stop by Grace’s room before going to see to Tori. When he entered, he found Torr bowed at her bedside, cradling her hand in his. The man rarely left her, and his guilt was beginning to hang on him, eating him away bit by bit. Tynan could sense the decay of his condition, both in his appearance as well as in each sluggish movement of his body.

  “You should go and rest,” said Tynan.

  Torr turned around, his eyes rimmed with red and sunken with fatigue. “Don’t,” was all he said.

  “Fine. If you want to throw away the gift she gave you, then so be it. It’s your life to discard as you see fit.”

  “I’m staying with her.”

  Tynan didn’t bother checking the output of the machines breathing for Grace. He simply laid his hand on her head and let her body speak to him.

  She was still in there, fighting. She hadn’t given up. Neither had Torr. If sheer force of will could keep someone alive, then perhaps Grace could hang on for another day or two.

  There was no way to make this easier on the Theronai. “I’ve done all I can.”

  Torr shot to his feet. “No. You can’t give up on her.”

  “I haven’t given up on anyone. I’ve tried everything I know to do for her. I swear I have. No human medicine or Sanguinar magic is going to sustain her for long. Her body is simply too weak. You have to let her go. She’s holding on for you, protecting you from your grief.”

  Torr’s mouth moved as if struggling not to spit out something vile. “I’ll go find the demon that caused this. Then you can create some kind of antivenom.”

  “You’ve looked. Others have looked. No one has seen even a hint of the creature. And even if you did find one, it wouldn’t matter. She’s too far gone.”

  “She’s still here. That’s all that matters.”

  “She’s here because of you. Do you really think she can rest in peace if she knows you’re suffering? She gave her life to save yours. That kind of lo
ve is rare, and it’s the only thing keeping her alive now.”

  Torr swallowed and tears brimmed in his eyes. “You’re telling me that I’m prolonging her suffering?”

  If Tynan sugarcoated it, Torr would never listen. The man was beyond stubborn. Infuriatingly so. “Yes. She’s clinging to life for you. You must let her go. Holding her here, forcing her to take breath after breath from that machine so that you don’t have to feel guilty, is selfish.”

  Tears slid down Torr’s face. He didn’t even try to hide them. “I can’t lose her.”

  “You already have. There’s nothing anyone can do. I’m sorry.”

  “I can’t,” said Torr, backing away, holding his hands up as if to ward off an attacker. “I can’t let her go.” He sounded uncertain, as if he was finally beginning to accept the eventuality of Grace’s death.

  “One of us will do it. We’ll turn off the machines.”

  Torr surged forward, taking a threatening step toward Tynan. “No! I will fucking kill anyone who does that to her. Do you hear me?”

  Tynan knew when it was time to back off. He didn’t need his neck broken twice for that lesson to set in. “I understand. No one will do anything without your permission, but neither will I expend any more precious blood on her behalf. There simply isn’t enough to go around.”

  Torr nodded tightly. “Go. I want to be alone with her. While I can.”

  Tynan left, grieving for what they were about to lose. Not only Grace, but Torr. He was no longer the man he’d once been. Grief had weakened him, drawn him thin enough to snap.

  One more casualty of war—one Tynan had no time to dwell upon. It was Tori’s turn for his attention, and she was the one he had to save. Theronai women were far too precious to lose, even ones who had no hope of happiness. Or possibly even sanity.

  He locked his dark thoughts away and did what needed to be done, just as always.

  The door to the suite Paul and Andra shared with Tori was open. The moment he neared, he smelled blood. Fresh. Powerful.

  Hunger rose within him, widening its jaws. There wasn’t enough Athanasian blood left on Earth to feed his kind. The path between Earth and Athanasia had once been wide-open, allowing passage between worlds. But now the gate was shut and Earth was cut off from the Athanasian blood that fueled the Sanguinar. Small traces of ancient blood had been passed down from one human generation to another, leaving behind the blooded humans from which he fed, but their blood alone wasn’t enough. The healing he did, his work to restore the fertility of the male Theronai, drew too much power from him, leaving him in constant, aching hunger. The only time he could remember being truly full was when one of the Athanasian princes had come through the gate and shared his blood.

  That gift had been a miracle—one that had saved Tynan from sending himself off to sleep for decades. It had allowed him to continue his work, but he couldn’t keep it all to himself. There were others of his kind, helpless and asleep beneath Dabyr, depending on him and his brothers to provide for them. Most of what he’d received he’d given to them, saving only what was necessary to complete his work.

  The smell of that blood now drove him forward, his mouth watering for a taste of that power. He entered one of the bedrooms and found Paul holding Tori in his lap, his arms and one leg pinning her body against his. His shoulder was bleeding from a set of ragged teeth marks left in his skin. That was the blood Tynan had smelled.

  Andra knelt in front of her restrained sister, trying to talk some sense into her. “You can’t leave, baby. They’ll find you and take you away from me.”

  Tori thrashed inside his hold. Her pale skin was flushed. Too-dark veins beat at her throat and in her temples, proving that the blood of her captors still coursed through her. She bared her teeth, which were coated with Paul’s blood. “I will kill you if you try to make me stay here. Zillah has to die. I have to kill him.”

  “We’ll find him for you. I’ll kill him myself.”

  “No! He’s mine! I want to hurt him. I want to make him scream.”

  Tynan had heard enough. Tori was unwell. She’d been with the Synestryn for too long. They’d changed her, fed her their blood. Zillah had tortured her and raped her and forced her to bear him a child. That child—her child—had died. No one could come through something like that unscathed.

  Her suffering beat at him, making him forget all about his own paltry problems. He had to end her suffering. Somehow. He’d thought that if she found a man who was compatible with her, one whose power she could wield, it might save her, but now he was beginning to think differently. If this young woman had any kind of power at all, she might well use it to kill the people inside this stronghold.

  Tynan couldn’t let that happen.

  Nicholas had been right to have Tynan remove his memory of the encounter with Tori. He’d done it for reasons different from Tynan’s, but the result was the same. Tori would not gain access to Nicholas’s power unless and until it was safe for her to become a deadly weapon. No one could know that they were compatible—especially Andra, who would do anything to save her sister.

  Tynan strode up to where Paul held her, and touched Tori’s forehead, willing her to sleep.

  She went limp in Paul’s arms, and he let out a long, relieved breath. “Thanks. She’s strong for such a tiny thing.”

  “I’m so sorry,” said Andra, as if all of this were somehow her fault.

  Paul laid Tori on the bed and pulled Andra against his bare chest, hugging her close. The look he gave Tynan was filled with demand. “You’ve got to make this stop. She stabbed Nicholas today.”

  “I know. I was the one who removed the knife and mended his flesh.”

  “I’ll give you whatever blood you need,” said Paul, “but you’ve got to help her. She’s not getting any better.”

  Andra turned, wiping tears from her eyes. “She’s getting worse. More violent.”

  “No, she’s always been this violent. It’s just that now she’s getting strong enough to act on those feelings. You must let me put her to sleep in the way of my kind. She will rest in peace until I can find a way to remove the taint of Synestryn blood from her body.”

  “Can’t we get some kind of dialysis machine?” asked Andra.

  “Machines cannot filter out magic, though I wish it were possible.”

  “You can’t give up on her.”

  “I haven’t. I won’t. You know how much she’s needed. But there’s no other way.”

  “I can’t make her go to sleep,” said Andra. “She says that Zillah is in her dreams. Hurting her.” She swallowed and when she spoke again, her voice shook with emotion. “He rapes her in her sleep, Tynan. Every night. She wakes up screaming, crying. I can’t make her live through that for as long as it takes you to find a cure. At least now she has some time awake. Away from him.”

  Paul stroked Andra’s back. “We’ll cage her before we let you put her to sleep. We’ve already decided.”

  “Then we cage her, because there’s no way we can let her roam free after what she did today.”

  “I’ll talk to Joseph,” said Andra. “I’ll see if he’ll let us put bars on her door and windows so she can stay here.”

  It wasn’t going to end well. Tynan could already tell that much.

  Tori began to writhe on the bed, making pitiful sounds of pain and terror.

  Tears spilled down Andra’s face. “Don’t let Nika know how bad she is. It would kill her.”

  “The two of them are connected. Nika probably already knows.”

  Andra shook her head. “No. Tori still protects her, even though she’s barely human. Nika was the one who was with her in her mind for all of those years of captivity. Tori won’t repay that by making Nika suffer. I don’t want you to, either.”

  “I agree. We’ll keep this to ourselves.” Not only was it the right thing to do, but it would garner good faith with Andra as well as keeping Nika’s mind free of worry. Tynan wanted Nika happy and content so that nothing interfe
red with her ability to become pregnant.

  A few weeks ago, he’d given Nika’s husband a serum he hoped would cure his infertility. With any luck at all, Tynan’s tireless efforts would pay off and Theronai babies would once again be born. It was the only hope his people had for avoiding starvation.

  He moved to Tori under the guise of checking her pulse. Andra was protective of her younger sisters, and he didn’t want to do anything to anger her.

  Tynan sent his power streaming out through his touch and found the seething, rotting pain of Tori’s nightmares. He couldn’t shield her from them, but he could blunt their edges for a time by taking them into himself. It was difficult to do, and taxing on his already dwindling power, but Tori deserved a bit of rest after what she’d been through.

  He gathered up her nightmares, allowing them to flow into himself. The images hit him hard, nauseating him. He refused to look directly at them for fear of driving himself mad. There was too much torment there, too much agony and hopelessness. If he looked at it for too long, it would suck him in and destroy him.

  Tynan shoved all of it into a corner of his mind and locked it away. It was still there. He could feel the fetid edges of it trying to creep out, but this wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this. It took all his willpower, but he managed to take control and face Paul and Andra as if nothing had happened. “She’ll sleep peacefully for at least a couple of hours. Don’t wake her.”

  Andra nodded, sniffing. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll walk you to the door,” said Paul.

  He left his wife behind, and as soon as they were out of sight, he stopped Tynan. “Take my blood. I know you need it after what you did for her.”

  “I wasn’t able to do anything.”

  “Liar.” Paul lifted his wrist. “Go ahead. I owe you.”

  Tynan was too weak to resist such an offer. He was ashamed that he wasn’t stronger, but that changed nothing. His actions were the same. In the end, his actions would always be the same.

  He’d do whatever it took to survive—to keep his people alive—no matter who had to bleed to make it happen.