The question was, did he contain any of their blood? If so, feeding from him would only weaken Logan further. But if the man was blooded and his blood was clean, he could give Logan the strength he needed to help rescue Hope.
Logan scratched again, luring the man forward. Two steps later, he was in reach.
Logan dropped the shield and caught the man’s gaze. Pale light spilled out over the young man’s face, accentuating the gaunt hollows under his cheeks.
The other guard’s heartbeat picked up. “Jeff?”
Logan held the man still and silent while he willed him into a deep sleep.
The second guard came around the crates. This one was bigger, healthier. He had only one bite mark on his neck and it was recent. He hadn’t been here long. Perhaps not long enough to become infected.
Logan was visible, and as soon as the man saw Jeff lying at his feet, he pulled in a breath to raise the alarm.
Logan was at his side in an instant, cutting off that scream with a tight grip on his throat. Panic hammered inside the man’s chest, giving him added strength.
Before it was too late, Logan took hold of the human’s mind and control over his body. Inside the man was screaming, but outside he was still and compliant.
Logan scored a small cut on his neck and breathed deeply.
He was blooded. Clean of Synestryn infection. He would do nicely.
Logan bit deep and sucked the man’s blood into himself. There wasn’t much power here to be had, but every little bit would help.
He took enough to render the guard unconscious, then eased him to the ground next to Jeff. The two of them would remain here for hours.
Logan shielded himself from sight again and eased around the wall of crates. There was a brief maze of twists and turns, but with every step he drew closer to Hope.
Someone approached from around the next turn. Logan stood still and held his breath.
A woman rounded the corner and came to an abrupt stop. She was wearing a strip of dirty lace wrapped around her hips and nothing else. Her skin was pale, streaked with red from infection. Puffy bite marks covered her neck, arms, and breasts. The smell of rotting skin nearly gagged him.
“I know you’re here,” she said. “The master knows you came for the woman.”
Logan said nothing, refusing to reveal his presence.
She jerked, then stiffened, and her eyes turned black and her lips curled back from her teeth. “Show yourself, leech,” she hissed in a voice not her own. “We shall bargain for your woman.”
Someone else was controlling her. Krag.
Logan hesitated. The woman’s eyes cleared and she shook herself. Tears slid down her dirty cheeks. “Please. Don’t defy him. He’ll kill her.”
Logan couldn’t let that happen. He released the shield. “What do you want in return for her freedom?”
The woman’s mouth stretched obscenely around a grin. Her eyes blackened and that hissing voice vibrated out of her mouth. “Your blood. All of it.”
Logan had expected no less. He was more than willing to trade his life for Hope’s, but he had to be careful that his sacrifice wasn’t in vain. All he really needed to do was buy enough time for the Theronai to arrive, kill Krag, and release himself from any bargain he made. Of course, staying alive that long was going to be difficult.
The woman doubled over, coughing, and spat blood onto the floor. It was too dark to be fully human blood. She’d been tainted, the same way Hacksaw had.
When she spoke, her words were slow and halting, her breath wheezing out of her lungs. Black swirled in her eyes, and Logan could sense some kind of internal struggle going on within the woman. Krag was controlling her—using her to communicate—and she didn’t like it.
Her mouth opened as if someone had pried it. “Surrender yourself and I will free the woman.”
“Unharmed,” demanded Logan. “She goes free before you take so much as a drop of my blood.”
The woman shuddered and clenched her head between her hands. “Agreed.”
“Vow it. Make it binding.”
“I . . . promise,” she whispered, and crumpled to the ground.
Logan nodded, bracing himself for the weight of their bargain. It slammed down into him, rocking him back on his feet. He stumbled for a moment before finally regaining his balance.
The woman stood up, turned, and walked away, her movements rigid and artificial, like a puppet.
Logan followed her, keeping his sword at the ready. Krag would look for a way out of their bargain. He could have one of his minions attack and kill Logan, freeing him from his promise to release Hope. Logan could not trust this demon beyond the letter of their vow.
The woman led him to an open area full of Dorjan and demons. Candles lit the space, circling a gaudy throne on a raised platform. Krag sat atop that throne. Kneeling at his feet was Hope.
Her head was in his lap, and he stroked her hair, petting her like a dog. A dazed look filled her golden eyes as she stared off into space. There was a raw, angry bite wound on her neck, and two burn marks the size of Krag’s fingerprints on her temple.
Krag had already damaged her, taken her blood, altered her mind.
Rage boiled from a deep, hidden recess in Logan’s soul. He hadn’t promised not to kill Krag, only that the demon could have his blood in exchange for Hope’s release. The first chance he got, he was going to rip that monster’s head from his neck, even if he had to do it with his bare hands.
“Let her go,” Logan ordered.
Krag snapped his fingers, and the woman who’d escorted Logan hurried over to Hope’s side. She pulled Hope to her feet, helping her stand. Hope trembled, her whole body shaking as she gained her balance.
Whatever Krag had done to her had damaged her enough she hadn’t even noticed Logan’s presence.
Krag stood from his throne and walked over to the pair of women. He grabbed the head of the woman who had served as his messenger and twisted it until her neck broke.
The woman fell to the ground.
“I guess her bargain with you no longer applies,” he said, smiling.
“She spoke on your behalf.”
“No, you only assumed she did. You know what they say about assumptions.” Krag’s hand twitched in a small motion.
Synestryn slid out from the shadows, closing in on Logan. They were all shapes and sizes, from ones he could stomp under his boot, to powerfully built, canine-shaped creatures, to a couple who walked upright and looked startlingly human.
Logan lifted his sword. He slashed at them as they came within range, but there were too many. They came at him from all sides.
Something bit his leg, stinging him with poison. Another one stuck him from behind, ripping his skin open. The smell of his blood drove them into a frenzy. His sword was ripped away and hard, strong hands took control of his arms. He lashed out with his booted feet, but no matter how many he sent flying, there were more to take their place.
Tiny, serrated teeth sank into his flesh. He felt their poison setting in fast, weakening him.
Logan searched for sight of Hope. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to survive this much poison.
He’d failed her.
Chapter 30
Inside, Hope was screaming, struggling for control of her body. But it didn’t listen to her. It did exactly what Krag wanted. And right now, he wanted her to watch Logan die.
“Enough!” he shouted, parting the sea of black nothingness surrounding Logan. “Secure him over there.”
Krag stroked her back, and she wasn’t even in control of herself enough to shiver in revulsion at his touch. Somehow, he’d bypassed her free will and she had no idea how to get it back.
Logan was taped to a steel beam. His shirt had been slashed in so many places, it hung in tatters on his body. His blood leaked from dozens of bite and claw wounds; the honeysuckle scent cleansed the stench of this place.
Hope sucked in a deep breath, and somehow it helped reconnect her mind and
body for an instant. Her hand twitched, clenching into a fist. She hid it quickly, refusing to let Krag know he wasn’t in complete control.
He left her side and grabbed up a cup from the arm of his throne. It was silver, the stem formed by a trio of women holding the cup in their outstretched arms. He pulled a dagger from his belt and handed it to her.
“Take it,” he ordered.
Hope did. Her hand moved toward the handle and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She knew what came next. She could see it in the evil plumes of excited anticipation swirling in his aura. He was going to make her use that dagger on Logan.
I won’t hurt him, her mind screamed. Her mouth said nothing.
The metal was cold. She gripped it so hard it bit into her skin. The point was wickedly sharp, and a long groove ran down the length of the blade.
Krag dragged her over to Logan. She tried to fight, but whatever he’d done to her was strong—too strong for her to resist.
One reptilian finger pointed to a spot on his neck halfway between Logan’s ear and his shoulder. “There, I think. Not too deep, now. We don’t want him bleeding out right away.”
Hope’s hand lifted. The dagger shone in the candlelight, trembling with her frantic efforts to fight Krag’s will. The tip moved to Logan’s neck, hovering above the skin.
“Fight him,” said Logan as his pale eyes met hers. “You’re stronger than he is.”
She wasn’t. Her hand kept inching closer, that wicked blade moving closer to his skin.
“She’s mine now,” said Krag. “We had a deal and now she’s a good, obedient toy.”
No. Hope wasn’t. She could never do anything to hurt Logan. She loved him.
“I love you,” whispered Logan, his voice growing weaker by the second.
His confession of love swelled inside her, giving her the strength to fight. The blade’s progress stopped. She was shaking hard enough she wasn’t sure how she stayed on her feet, but at least she wasn’t hurting Logan.
Krag leaned down next to Logan’s ear. “She’s mine now. Her blood is rich—rich enough I bet she’ll be able to bear my children. I want you to imagine that while you die. Imagine me fucking the woman you love.”
Hope’s stomach heaved. Like hell that would happen. She’d die before she let him touch her like that.
Krag turned to her and let out a bellow of rage. “Do it!” he commanded.
A grating whine screeched through her mind and she felt the weight of the promise she’d given him bearing down on her again. Her head pounded. The room spun. She couldn’t breathe.
“Do it!” came Krag’s imperious voice again.
Her hand moved. She screamed inside, but no sound came out. The tip of the blade touched Logan’s skin. He sucked in a breath, but didn’t look away from her. Not even when she pushed harder and cut him open.
“Don’t blame yourself. Not your fault,” whispered Logan.
But it was. She’d made a deal with the devil, and now Logan was the one to pay the price for her stupidity.
Krag let out a satisfied laugh and pressed his cup under the wound. Blood flowed freely into the cup for a few seconds before the wound shut.
Hope watched it close before her eyes and let out a relieved breath. He was still strong enough to heal himself.
Krag raised his cup to Logan. “Heal yourself all you like. The longer you last, the more fun we’ll have.” He stroked Hope’s hair. “Isn’t that right, my pet?”
He wanted her to answer. She could feel that answer bubbling up inside her, but she clenched her teeth around it, refusing to let it free.
Krag sipped from the cup casually, as if it weren’t Logan’s life filling it. “I asked you a question. I demand an answer.”
“Fuck . . . you,” she shoved out past the grating compulsion in her head. He would not control her. She needed to be free to act and get both herself and Logan out of here.
Krag slapped her across the face, sending her flying to the floor. Logan’s feet were in her field of vision. She was close enough to touch him. Maybe even undo his bonds.
But where would he go? The sun was up. She could feel it rising, giving her strength to fight Krag’s hold on her. She didn’t understand how she knew it—the whole building was dark, all the windows blacked out with thick layers of paint—but she did.
She tasted blood and realized her teeth had cut her lip. She wiped it away and heard a faint groan coming from Logan. She looked up and saw his eyes focused on her hand, a hungry light spilling down across her skin.
Her blood. If she could give him her blood, he’d be strong enough to free them both.
Hope sat there on the cold floor, her mind spinning with some way to trick Krag into letting her get close enough to feed Logan.
She reached up and grabbed Logan’s legs, using his body to pull herself up to her feet. She pressed against him, feeling the heat of his skin. His tattered shirt was stained with blood, and this close, she could see the poisonous effects of the bites they’d inflicted on him. Red streaks spread out from the wounds, just beneath his skin.
This was all her fault. If she hadn’t been captured and forced Logan to come here to save her, he’d still be safe and sound. She couldn’t regret loving him. She couldn’t even regret meeting him. He’d turned her world upside down, but without him, she’d still be living a lie, pretending the world was no more than what she saw on the surface.
Most of what she’d seen was ugly and cruel, but not Logan. He was beautiful and selfless and noble. He spent his life helping others find the kind of happiness he himself could never have. It was sad, but there was a beauty in what he did—what he was forced to do to manage inside such an ugly world. Rather than stealing life, he helped create it.
Krag’s hold on her mind urged her to move away. She heard his command ringing in her head, pounding at her skull to obey.
She refused.
She brought her wrist to Logan’s mouth. She didn’t need to tell him what to do and he wasted no time in biting through her skin.
Pleasure streaked up her arm and settled in her chest. She could no longer feel Krag’s pull on her. She was free of his presence, for a few brief, peaceful seconds.
Her body flew backward. She landed inside a pile of women. One of them cried out in pain.
Krag had ripped her away from Logan and was now stalking toward her, his black eyes wide with fury. “You feed only me. Your blood is mine.”
He reached down and grabbed her by the throat, jerking her up to her feet. He shook her, making her body flail in the air.
Pain shot down her spine until her legs went numb. He picked up the dagger and dragged her over the floor until she was at Logan’s feet.
He ripped open Logan’s tattered shirt and plunged the dagger into his chest.
Logan’s cry of pain echoed off the high ceiling. His body tensed and the tendons in his neck stood out in his agony.
Hope stared in shock, unable to process what had just happened. Logan wasn’t even supposed to be here. How could this be happening?
Krag yanked out the knife, and a bright river of blood ran down Logan’s chest.
Panic crushed the breath from her lungs. Logan was dying. Because she’d tried to save him.
A wounded sound rose from her lips, full of anguish and grief. “No.”
“You shouldn’t have defied me,” said Krag, pulling her up by her hair.
She couldn’t stand. She couldn’t even feel her legs. Everything had gone numb.
“Now take back what you gave him,” the monster ordered her, then shoved her face against Logan’s chest.
Blood wet her cheeks, her lips. The sweet, calming scent of it rose up, comforting her and ridding her of her shock.
She was going to kill Krag for taking Logan away from her. She was going to make him suffer and feed him to the demons.
From the shadows, she heard a chorus of hungry growls. Eerie green eyes lit up.
“Drink,” he demanded, jerki
ng on her hair.
A heavy wheezing sound echoed inside Logan’s chest. His lung had been punctured.
Krag grabbed her face with his reptilian hand and pried her jaws apart. Logan’s blood hit her tongue, but instead of being repulsed by it, she felt something else.
It was like the pieces of a giant puzzle had suddenly clicked into place. Something within her—something hidden and asleep—woke up and pulled in a deep breath. It stretched and unfurled itself inside her, growing until she was sure she’d burst under the strain.
Power soaked into her cells, changing them. The numbness in her legs disappeared. The crack in one of her vertebra that she hadn’t even known was there healed up. The wound on her neck closed; the infection that had begun to spread was eradicated. She could see it happening in her mind even as she felt it in her body.
And then the wall around her memories began to crumble. Things she’d never been able to touch were there, waiting for her to remember.
She saw strange places and faces. The sky burned a bright orange and there were two suns blazing on the horizon. There were no buildings here, no roads. A cluster of rough cabins stood under a canopy of giant trees. The leaves were bluish and so shiny they looked almost metallic. She looked down and found a nut lying on the ground. It was different from any she’d ever seen before, but she somehow still recognized it. An instant later, an old woman with a smooth face that hid her years handed that nut back to Hope. Her name had been burned into it—a token of remembrance so she wouldn’t feel so empty in her new life. If she had a name, she had people who loved her enough to give her one.
Hope had held on to that thought as she’d allowed that woman to build the wall and hide all those memories from her.
She didn’t know what any of this meant—whether it was real or some kind of hallucination caused by Logan’s blood. What she did know was that she was going to get them out of this. She wasn’t going to find her past now only to lose it to some asshole demon.
Hope lifted her head. She pressed her hand to Logan’s wound, following instincts she hadn’t even known she had.
His flesh closed up under her touch. His eyes flared in surprise he quickly hid. She could hear his heartbeat now, faint but steady. He kept his head down, but she could hear a slight tearing sound behind him as he freed himself from the tape.
Blood Hunt (Sentinel Wars Book 5) Page 33