He picked up a drill lying nearby and swung it by the cord, smashing out the window.
The Warden freed itself and turned. It saw Logan and let out a howl that sounded like shattering glass. Its feet slipped on the floor as it gathered speed.
Logan stood in front of the open window, his feet braced. He focused inward, collecting sparks of power as he wrung them from his blood cells.
The glow of sunset behind him seemed to burn his back, but he ignored it. There was no time for pain now.
The Warden’s crystalline muscles bunched and it lunged for Logan. Logan dodged. The Warden flew out the window. Logan turned to watch it fall, to be sure it shattered on impact.
The Warden was right there, clinging to the window frame.
Logan heard its swords shatter as they hit the pavement below. Too late, he realized his mistake.
The Warden grabbed Logan’s arm and hurled him out of the window.
The feeling of free fall registered as his arms and legs flailed to find purchase. There was nothing to catch himself on. He was between buildings, dropping like a stone.
Above him, he saw Hope’s head peek out over the edge of the rooftop. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened around a scream of horror and loss.
“No!” she shouted.
The Warden’s head craned around, looking up at Hope, and through its transparent skull, Logan could see its eyes glow with the sight of its next victim.
Chapter 19
Hope stared in shock as Logan’s body fell. An unnatural wind whipped around her head, sending her hair into a frenzy. She swiped it out of her face in time to see Logan hit.
She flinched and a cry of denial was ripped from her mouth by the wind. Tears stung her eyes as she stared down, hoping for a miracle.
For a second, she thought she saw him move, but that was just wishful thinking. He couldn’t have survived a fall like that.
The crystalline monster that Logan had called a Warden stuck to the side of the building like a spider. It looked up at her. Light poured from its eyes as it began climbing the wall, right for her.
Rage and grief flooded her system, making her fingers curl into fists. That thing had killed Logan. She was going to kill it.
She scanned the rooftop, searching for some kind of weapon. A pipe. A two-by-four. Something.
There was nothing up here but an air handling unit.
The Warden crawled over the edge. It had lost its swords somewhere along the way, but she could see a new growth of crystals beginning in its fists. It was growing new ones.
Hope couldn’t let that happen. She had to strike now, while she could. Once it had its weapons back, it would slice her in two before she could even get close enough to kick it in the shin.
She didn’t want to die, but she didn’t see any other choice. She had to knock it off the roof and send it careening to the pavement below.
She’d catch herself at the last second if she could, but she didn’t think that would be possible.
The brief ten years of her life—those she could remember—flashed through her mind. Of them, the brightest memories were those she’d shared with Logan. She wondered if she’d see him again in whatever afterlife awaited her, or if the only thing waiting was the deep black void that mirrored her forgotten past.
Either way, her decision was made. There was no time for regrets or second thoughts. The Warden had to die before it could kill anyone else.
Hope let loose all of her rage and fear, channeling it into her legs. They propelled her forward over the tarry roof. Strength poured through her limbs like it had when she’d carried those men up the steps.
She screamed and jumped up, hitting the Warden in its chest.
It swiped at her, but its blades had not yet finished growing back. It missed and jerked back.
The Warden teetered. Hope threw her weight up and back, grabbing its head to throw it off balance. The slight shift worked. The Warden fell backward, the back of its knees catching on the ledge.
Its arms spun in the air as it tried to regain its balance. There was nothing to hold on to and it fell, going headfirst over the edge.
Hope scrambled to grab the ledge, but it was too late. It was too far away and getting farther with every microsecond.
Ten stories down, the ground waited for her.
“Like hell!” Joseph shouted at Carmen. “You’re not going anywhere with a Slayer.”
“Why not?” she asked, her hands on her hips, her stance belligerent. “It makes perfect sense. Unless of course I don’t mean enough to you to serve as a hostage.”
“Of course you do. And you really shouldn’t be offering to do something you know nothing about.”
“People talk. It’s all over Dabyr about how the Slayer brought his sister here so you knew you could trust him. It makes sense he’d want the same insurance policy in return.”
“Go to your suite. Stay out of this. No one is going with him and that’s final.”
A small muscle under her eye twitched, making Joseph realize his mistake too late.
“Final?” she asked, her tone frighteningly calm.
Andreas stood up. “I think I’ll leave you two to chat.”
Carmen grabbed his arm. “Stay. This won’t take long.”
The Slayer looked down at her fingers, which were curled around his biceps. His nostrils flared and Joseph felt more than he saw a shift in Andreas’s posture. His muscles tensed, as if readying for a fight. He pulled in a deep breath and shifted slightly, partially blocking her from Joseph’s sight.
The Slayer was giving off huge protective vibes. As if Joseph would ever do anything to hurt Carmen.
She looked up at Joseph, seemingly unaware of the response Andreas was having to her. “I can’t stay here. I’m suffocating with all these rules and restrictions.”
“They’re for your safety.”
“My safety is my responsibility, not yours.”
“Not true,” said Joseph. “Thomas put your care into my hands.”
“I’m a grown woman. You can’t see that.” She turned to Andreas. “Can you?”
“Depends. You act like an adult, you get treated like one.”
“That’s better than I have here.”
“Their society isn’t like ours,” warned Joseph. “You may not like it.”
“Then I’ll leave.”
“Not if you’re a hostage.”
“Hostage is such a loaded term,” said Andreas. “You’ll be our guest.”
This wasn’t good. Joseph had done nothing but screw things up with Carmen since she’d shown up. She’d had a rough life. She felt like no one had wanted her—not her father, not her uncle, and now Joseph was inadvertently following in those assholes’ footsteps. “Please don’t go. We need you here.”
“No, you don’t. You’ve already got more screwed-up humans to take care of than you know what to do with. Let me go. I need to do this.”
“Who will teach you to fight if you leave?”
“I will,” said Andreas. “She’ll learn alongside all the other women.”
“See?” said Carmen. “I already fit in better there.”
Joseph hated letting her go. He was responsible for her. But he’d made mistakes in dealing with her, and now he was reaping the results of those mistakes.
If he didn’t let her go with Andreas, where she’d at least have the Slayers to protect her, chances were she’d leave anyway. Without any safety at all.
Joseph looked Andreas in the eye. “Promise me you’ll protect her with your life.”
Carmen sighed. “I don’t need—”
“I promise,” vowed Andreas.
Joseph felt the weight of his vow settle over him, giving him some comfort. It seemed only fair to offer that same comfort in return. “I promise to keep your sister safe as well. She may hate living here, but she’ll be safe.”
Andreas nodded and offered Joseph his hand. They shook, sealing their bargain.
There wou
ld be peace among the Sentinels. At least for now.
Logan was still panting with the effort of using the wind to slow his own fall when he saw Hope and the Warden topple from the rooftop.
He didn’t know how he was going to find the power to save her, but he knew that he would do it or die trying.
Pain seared along his veins as he wrung every last speck of power from his blood. He felt his body shrivel and his skin sag on his frame. His bones felt brittle and he stooped under the strain.
He took one weak step toward the falling pair and reached out a hand. Wind answered his call and he sent a wedge of it toward them, shoving it between the two.
The Warden’s fall sped as Hope’s slowed. He gritted his teeth and pushed harder, commanding the wind to obey.
A few feet away, the Warden smashed into the concrete, shattering into countless pieces. Its dying scream was deafening, smashing several windows nearby.
Hope flailed high above. Logan shoved the last dregs of his power at the wind. It pushed her up and over the ledge of the building. His vision failed and he fell to his knees. He didn’t know if his aim was good, or if he’d merely sent her flying over the far side of the building.
All he knew was that what he’d done would cost him his life.
His heart stuttered, then stopped. His body toppled and cold consumed him.
Hope landed hard on the rooftop. The wind was knocked from her lungs. Her head spun. She had no idea how she was alive, but she’d seen Logan standing below, reaching for her.
He’d saved her.
She pushed herself to her feet and stumbled to the edge of the building. Below she saw the remains of the Warden sparkling on the pavement. Next to it was Logan, lying too still.
Panic gripped her hard and she scrambled for the door. She went back the way she’d come, but the elevator ride seemed to take half a year. By the time she shoved through the doors and out to Logan’s side, she’d had time to build up hope that he was alive.
As soon as she saw him, shriveled and still, that hope died.
He was only a shell of the man he’d been before. He looked old and dried up, as if the life had literally been wrung from him.
She fell to her knees at his side. He wasn’t breathing. She felt no pulse.
Tears blurred her vision as the weight of grief tumbled down on her.
She couldn’t let him die. Not like this.
Hope grabbed up a shard of crystal and sliced her wrist open. Blood splashed across his cheek before she managed to press the wound to his mouth.
“Don’t you dare die,” she warned him.
Blood leaked from the side of his mouth. He wasn’t swallowing it.
Hope stroked his throat, trying to make it work, trying to get her blood into him.
He jerked as if a current had been sent through his body. He pulled in a deep breath. His eyes opened and he grabbed her arm, holding it to his mouth.
He drank down her blood, gulping audibly. Hope rejoiced in the sound, knowing her blood had saved him.
Weakness descended on her, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t going to fight him. He could take whatever he needed so long as he lived.
Her body melted, but Logan caught her before she could fall. He gathered her against his hard body and kept her warm.
Hope let go and drifted down into sleep. She didn’t know if she’d wake again, but she hardly cared. If she died like this, she’d do so feeling good.
Krag felt the presence of the blooded woman flare into existence again. She was near Hacksaw and the Warden Krag had instructed him how to summon. Any Sanguinar foolish enough to risk daylight deserved to die.
Krag, however, was glad to know that the woman had survived. At least for now. There was no way to know if the Warden would find her and slay her, which made him impatient.
“You failed,” Krag shouted into the mind of his servant, who had run in fear at the sight of the Warden.
Hope was protected. He came for her.
The Sanguinar. Of course he did. The leech would want her blood for himself.
That simply could not stand. She and her powerful blood were Krag’s.
“Find a way to draw her out. Find a lever that will force her to leave the side of her protector.”
A lever?
The idiot human had done too many drugs and mangled his brain. “Family. Friends. Some mangy beast she lets pee on her rug. Someone or something you can use against her.”
Right. A lever. I know just the one to use.
It took every scrap of willpower built over the centuries for Logan to release Hope. Her blood spread through him, renewing his strength and waking his senses. He held her close, curling his body around hers while he waited for his light-headedness to ease.
He’d been only moments from death. Hope had saved him. Again.
Shards of the Warden glistened against the dirty pavement. None of them moved, proving the Solarc’s servant was truly dead.
Logan lifted Hope in his arms. Her limp body felt almost insubstantial. How could something so delicate carry such strength and selflessness?
His van was destroyed, but her home was not far. He took her there, shielding her from sight of the passersby on the street. He carried her upstairs to her room, stripped her dirty clothing from her limbs, wiped away all traces of her blood, and tucked her into her bed. The sight of her in only her bra and panties sent waves of need crashing through him. He should have been too weak to even consider the carnal delights she could offer, but when it came to Hope, Logan seemed to have the boundless ability to torture himself.
There was no fireplace, so he set the bloodied cloth in a metal trash can, put it on the fire escape, and lit a fire. Sure that there were no traces of blood around to draw any Synestryn to her, he fetched a cup of water and compelled her to drink.
Perhaps he should have taken her to a human hospital, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that, knowing how much she detested the idea. Besides, there was no way he would allow himself to be parted from her. Not now, so soon after nearly losing her.
Logan pulled the covers up to her chin to hide her lush body from sight. With that barrier in place, he allowed himself the pleasure of holding her, of knowing she was alive.
He held one hand over her heart, trying to ignore the swell of her breast so he could keep track of her pulse and breathing. Both seemed normal, which was impossible. He’d taken too much blood from her, and on the heels of the other times he’d fed from her, there was no way that what he’d done tonight shouldn’t have caused some damage.
He could find none.
Logan slid into her mind to make sure he hadn’t missed some sign of distress.
She was sleeping. Dreaming.
Her consciousness reached for him as if detecting his presence. It wrapped around him, pulling him into her. He didn’t fight it. If she wanted his company, it was the least he could do.
The idea that she did want his company—that he could somehow ease her—was a powerful feeling. It filled him with purpose and gave him hope that her sacrifice would not be a lasting one.
She let out a soft sigh of contentment, her body melting into his. Her mind shifted to a dream state, taking him along for the ride.
The chaotic swell of images made little sense, but then dreams rarely did. He glided along, skimming the surface but not allowing himself to be tugged in. As much as he’d enjoy sharing dreams with her, he had work to do tonight. Hope’s safety was foremost on that list, but there were other things that needed his attention. His devotion to Project Lullaby had to be absolute.
Hope’s mental images morphed until she was on a beach at high noon. Logan could feel the warmth of the sun and a cool breeze on their skin. The sound of waves blocked out all others. She lounged there on the sand in her cheery yellow bathing suit, the picture of contentment and womanly perfection.
She lifted a hand to block out the light and turned to look at him. “Join me?”
He wasn’t supposed
to be participating, but he’d gone too far and allowed himself to slip deep inside her where her dreams resided.
He opened his mouth to refuse her invitation, but in the next moment, he was stripped of his clothing, lying next to her on a towel. He could almost feel what it would be like to soak up sunlight through her. It gave her strength, made her cells swell with power as if she was somehow feeding on the sun’s energy.
It was such an odd feeling, Logan’s mind nearly retreated from hers to figure out the puzzle. But he didn’t want to leave yet. He wanted to be right here with her, where things were not real and his actions had fewer consequences.
She turned to her side and her slim fingers settled against his bare chest. The heat of them made him suck in a shocked breath. He longed to feel more of her skin on his—to feel her run her hands over him as a lover might.
“You’re afraid of me,” she said.
“I’m afraid of what you make me feel. My duty—”
She covered his mouth with her hand. “Shh. We’re on vacation. There’s no duty here.”
Against his will, he kissed her fingers, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin. It was warmer here than he remembered, scented with coconut, and completely intoxicating.
She shuddered and a wicked smile curved her mouth. “You’re not running from me now.”
He should. He knew he should, but what harm could come of indulging within her dreams? None of this was real. It was simply a complex string of chemical and electrical signals in her mind she was allowing him to witness—a sort of shared hallucination. One he knew could never become reality.
Hope leaned over him, blocking out the sun. Her eyes seemed to glow with a golden light amidst the shadows of her face. He could stare into them for hours and never become bored.
But she had other ideas. She leaned down and kissed him. It was a soft kiss. Tentative. Chaste.
Logan’s body did not translate it properly, and the animalistic side of him took it as a challenge. His blood heated and pounded through his veins. His heart sped and sweat broke out along his back.
Blood Hunt (Sentinel Wars Book 5) Page 21