by Brenna Lyons
Sarah shook in the darkness, while the monster raged. The arm reached for her then turned into the ghostly fog. She screamed at the mist, but Sarah soon learned that he could only cover her in his cold hate that way without actually touching her. It seemed he needed space to act, and he lacked that in the hole. His frustrated scream made her cover her aching ears. A sound like a trowel dragging on rock disturbed her sobbing. He wanted to find a way in to her desperately.
“Come for me, beast,” a new voice demanded. “Or can’t you handle a fair fight?”
“Ah, Kohl of Kaufmann. You think yourself a match for Braden?”
“More than whatever pitiful creature you have trapped in the rock,” he countered confidently.
“A child. A precious baby girl, but more threat than you are, Warrior.”
“Is she really? Must be a child of the König elder killers,” he laughed. “Do you have our toddler princess trapped in the rock? Have you lost her?” His voice was mocking. “Has she injured you with her mother’s blades and danced away like Jayde?”
“I have no interest in your precious princess. This babe is far more interesting to me.”
“Really? Why would a human child be of interest to you? Do you have trouble finding sustenance?”
“She’s one of your revered sensitives. You haven’t found one in over twenty-five years, have you? You will lose this one, Kaufmann. Her blood will run rich in my veins before the sun rises.”
There was a moment of silence, and the air seemed to grow thick in tension.
“Then fight me for her,” the one called Kohl demanded.
Sarah held her breath. She wanted to see the man that was trying to protect her, but she didn’t dare go close to the opening. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine him, but all she saw was a silver knight with a baldric of crimson velvet draped across him. The red monster fought with him, and she saw the red flicker into a spot of black at his shoulder. Sarah wondered if he was injured.
She watched in confusion as the red monster turned into mist again and sped around the silver knight. “Behind you,” she screeched as his form started to take shape.
The knight seemed to shimmer before her eyes, and the red monster flickered and faded.
Sarah opened her eyes to the absolute darkness, wondering what had just happened.
“Come out, child,” a voice called — the friendly voice, the one called Kohl.
“No,” she whispered. “What if you’re the red monster? What if this is a trick?”
“Tell me how to convince you. For the love of all that’s holy, you must trust me.” His voice was desperate, on the edges of some nameless madness. “I didn’t know whether to believe him, but he was telling the truth. Please, you must come to me.”
“Let me see your hand.”
Dutifully, a beautiful silver hand reached into the cave for her. Sarah crept forward. When she touched the hand, it grasped her and she screamed, sure it would turn red around her wrist. The hand released her immediately, and she scurried back, weeping in fright.
“I’m sorry. I thought you were asking for my help. Forgive me, child. Please, forgive me. If I pull my hand back, will you come out for me?”
Sarah didn’t answer. She crept forward, still shaking. She touched the hand again. This time, it didn’t grab her. It pulled back slightly. She followed the silver glow out, the arm retreating with each touch of her small hand.
When she finally stuck her head out and squeezed her shoulders and chest through the narrow crack, she met the man’s dark eyes. Kohl’s relief washed over her. His hair was dark but beginning to gray. Sarah guessed that he was a little younger than her grandfather was. The shimmer over him was still silver, but now she could see that it was shot through with green flecks and the crimson was more of a thin, decorative braid than a baldric. He was kneeling with his hands on his thighs and made no move to grab her as she worked her way out of the crevice and stood before him.
Kohl smiled and put his arms out to her. “Come, child. We must leave here, now.”
“Sarah,” she whispered. “My name is Sarah.”
“Sarah.”
His smile widened, and she stepped into his arms. Kohl removed his warm coat and wrapped it around her shivering body. He regarded her scraped hands and feet sadly, trying to rub the numbness away, warming them with his body. He lifted her with him and walked away quickly. Kohl didn’t stop at the campsite but continued to carry her to a car parked on a dark, dirt road, shielding her face from the horrors she’d seen as if he knew she couldn’t bear to see them again.
A young man in his late teens stepped forward with a look of concern on his face. His shimmer was clear and just off-white, like home-squeezed lemonade. It was a warm shimmer with that same braid of red.
“Father?” he asked uncertainly.
“This is your sister, Sarah,” Kohl announced. “The gods have blessed this child with the finest gift of sensitivity I have ever encountered. They have brought her to me, Damien. She’s mine now, a precious girl of my own to raise.”
The young man nodded. “Yes, Father. I understand. Welcome, Sarah,” he whispered, executing a smooth bow to her with something between fear and awe written on his face.
Sarah’s head started to ache. She couldn’t read what Damien was feeling like she usually could. The shimmers flared up white-hot around her, and Sarah closed her eyes to escape the suddenly painful glare of them. A wave of sickness pushed down on her, and she groaned deep in her chest.
“Sarah? What’s wrong?” Kohl asked, seemingly panicked.
Her skin started to heat as if by an instant fever, and she grew restless in his arms. “The shimmers hurt,” she whimpered. “Shut them off. Please, shut them off.”
“Call your grandfather,” Kohl thundered. “He must have the closest sensitive come to us immediately to train her. I cannot lose her this way.”
* * * *
Jan 7, 2025
Sarah groaned as she opened her eyes to the darkness. No shimmers. She thanked whatever gods gave her this damn curse that the medicine was working now. The vague sense of her power was an itch in her skin, but nothing more.
The moment when Erin touched her had been agony. Sarah shouldn’t have been able to see her shimmer or feel its burn, but she did. She wondered at that. Were König shimmers stronger than her medicine, or was the experience some sort of fluke?
She pulled herself off the bed unsteadily. Her head felt like it was packed with glass splinters, but Sarah had to go to the bathroom. She weaved across the floor, her eyes blurring.
After she relieved herself, Sarah tried to make her way back to the bed. She was halfway there when a sound behind her intruded on her consciousness. She turned toward it slowly, trying to work out who would be in her room. Everyone knew not to disturb her solitude when she was like this, unless it was time for her dose or to give her an IV.
Erin was entering the bathroom from the other side. Sarah barely had time to see the younger woman’s face before her shimmer fired before the sensitive’s eyes, branding her mind with the swift fury of the burn she shouldn’t be able to experience. Even beasts couldn’t make her see shimmers when the medication was working. Why was Erin different?
Sarah crumpled to the floor with a whimper, clamping her eyes shut against the brilliant assault. She cradled her head in her hands and curled in on herself as the afterimage of the sunshone gold of Erin’s shimmer burned in her mind. She sobbed, feeling her breathing like scorching smoke in her unresponsive lungs. Her skin heated and sweat beaded in response.
Hands touched her, searing her flesh. Sarah bit back a scream and tried to shake off the intruder. The hands left her, and the floor rumbled beneath her ribs as Erin sped away. A moment of blessed stillness followed where the pressure she applied to her temples with the flats of her palms actually seemed to give her relief Sarah knew was impossible.
Hands touched her again, but these hands were cooling. She relaxed her palms away from her head, feeling the bo
neless release of pain the drugs brought her but knowing that no one had given her any.
“Sarah,” a man’s voice breathed next to her ear. It wasn’t Kohl. Hunter.
She remembered his beautiful, mesmerizing shimmer and forced her eyes open. It was there. The fire opal of him soothed her aching head, and Sarah reached out a hand to touch the swirl of purple that undulated before her eyes.
“Sarah, please say something.”
She looked at his eyes, warm and worried, through the veil of his shimmer. Sarah closed her eyes again as a fresh pain lanced through, but as quickly as it came, it was gone again. “Hunter,” she managed. Sarah wanted to say more, but any conscious thought — anything beyond that lovely shimmer was pure torture. Even his name was difficult to force past her stubborn lips.
He gathered her into his arms and lifted her to the bed. Hunter took his hands away, and she moaned as the fire under her skin returned.
“Hunter,” she pleaded as her head threatened to split in two.
His hands touched her again, and the fire receded.
“What is it? What can I do?” His voice was low and urgent.
Sarah touched his chin, unable even to ask him to hold her. His name— All she could say was his name, over and over.
“Sarah, do you need me to stay with you?”
She made an inarticulate sound that she hoped he would understand as agreement.
“I have to do one thing. I’ll be right back. I promise you. I can send Erin to you if you would like.”
She moaned and thrashed her head side to side, incapable of putting her refusal into words and needing him to understand how much Erin’s shimmer would hurt her now. The movement sent fresh spikes of pain through her, but Sarah needed to make the point clearly. Not Erin. No one but Hunter. Anyone else would be agony for her.
“All right,” he soothed her, running his fingers over her cheek. “Two minutes.”
Hunter’s hands left her, and Sarah sobbed as the burn started in on her again. She curled back into her personal cocoon to wait for him.
From far away, she could hear water running. His morning needs, she supposed. Sarah stifled another sob, determined to control herself. She was being selfish. This was a Warrior prince, a König, and an elder hunter. He would think her weak and foolish to demand this childish thing of him. Still, his touch was the only safe haven in the firestorm that was engulfing her.
She heard footsteps and reached a hand out for him, but it wasn’t Hunter’s cooling shimmer she encountered. Silver pain shot up her arm and ran like mercury through her mind. Sarah screamed and pulled her hands back to her head, trying desperately to keep her stomach from rebelling.
A scuffle ensued. “You can’t touch her,” Kohl thundered. “Can’t you see what it does to her?”
“I don’t hurt her. She asked me to stay,” Hunter replied, keeping a calm, low voice that held just a hint of warning.
“Impossible! No one can touch her when Sarah is like this. Don’t you think we’ve tried? Leave, König.”
Sarah moaned in protest. He couldn’t leave. She didn’t know how Hunter took the pain away, but he did, and she wasn’t about to lose whatever magic he held.
“I’m not leaving. She’s asked me to stay.”
“If you don’t remove yourself—”
The door crashed open, and another man’s voice boomed over Kohl’s. “What the hell are you two arguing about?” he demanded.
Sarah squinted her eyes to try and see the man. Lord König! His shimmer was silver and gold twisted shot through with red flecks and a controlled band of Blutjagd. It danced in her mind, burning a new trail there. Sarah screamed at the torture of it. Why were Königs so hard to look at? Except Hunter.
Kohl hissed in annoyance. “The medicine has worn off early. Sarah is in the worst stages of her pain. Our auras — our shimmers and our touch are torture to her. Until the medication arrives, we must leave her alone. Only complete solitude will be bearable to her. I know my child,” he informed the great Lord König.
“He’s wrong,” Hunter interjected coldly. “I can touch her. She asked me to stay. I won’t leave her while she needs me.”
“Needs you? You flatter yourself. No one, not even humans or human sensitives, can touch her like this. I cannot comfort her. You cannot comfort her. No one can.”
“Hunter,” his father replied quietly, “perhaps we should discuss this away from here. If our presence hurts her...”
Sarah forced her eyes open, slitting them against the bright shimmers until she locked on the opal. The blurred outline of Hunter’s hand was her target. She threw herself at it, grasping it in her hand while she closed her eyes tight to the pain the sudden motion set off. Sarah sank her cheek to the fabric of his jeans in relief as his healing touch washed over her.
Kohl sucked in his breath. “I’ll be damned,” he mused. “How are you doing that?”
Hunter turned, wrapping his fingers around her hand, and crouched until his breath warmed the now-cool skin of her cheek. The fingers of his free hand pushed her damp hair back gently. “Do you want me to stay, Sarah?”
“Hunter,” she managed again, tightening her grip on his hand in response.
“It’s all right. I promised I’d stay.” His voice was tender, and he brushed at her hair again with his magic touch. “Do you need anything? Food or drink?” he offered.
“She doesn’t eat or drink like this,” Kohl explained. “An intensive siege means IVs while she is sedated. You may want to call your doctor before she dehydrates, now that the sun is up. Sarah can lose ten pounds easily, and this is a bad one. The medication doesn’t usually wear off early.”
Sarah grimaced at the thought of an IV. Hunter calmed her system. “Juice,” she requested weakly, hoping he calmed it enough. She marveled that even thinking was easier for her with Hunter lending his strength. And, he was lending it. She could feel it coursing through her.
“Dad,” Hunter commanded.
“Right away,” the other man answered. “I’ll bring you something while I’m at it.”
“Thank you.” His fingers ran lightly over her cheek. “Juice is on the way,” he assured her. “Whatever you need, Sarah. Ask and it will be provided for you.”
* * * *
Hunter smoothed his hand over Sarah’s hair. She slept, her cheek pressed to his bare chest and her slight body curled into his lap. Kohl had stayed, watching him in awe while Sarah sipped apple juice and even swallowed bits of the muffin brought up for Hunter. He had pinched off pieces and fed them to her between drinks, and she had managed to eat almost a quarter of it before she fell into an exhausted sleep again.
Finally, the old man pushed to his feet. “I don’t know how you’re doing that, but I do thank you. Even with the medication, Sarah rarely sleeps this soundly.”
Hunter nodded slowly. “I’m glad to be of service.”
“This isn’t just a service to you, is it?” Kohl’s smile was strained. “If it’s printing, I approve. Don’t use her,” he said calmly, in more of a conversational tone than a warning.
Hunter darkened. “I don’t know what I’m feeling,” he admitted. “At first, I just wanted to protect her, but every time I touch Sarah, it gets more confused. I won’t pressure her to stay with me. I gave my word on that. I won’t use her or take advantage of her, either. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“When you figure out what you feel, make sure you tell her.”
“You wouldn’t object to her staying in Cross? I can’t join the Königs. You know that,” Hunter reminded him.
Kohl shook his head slowly. “This ability of yours to touch her is worth its weight in gold. It must mean something.”
Talon’s voice came from the doorway, sounding strained. “It better be worth its weight. It’s all we’ve got.”
Kohl looked at him in shock. “What do you mean?” he demanded.
“Piers called me when he didn’t get an answer on Hunter’s cell. The beasts
traced your scent back to your vehicle. It’s destroyed.”
“The medicine?” Hunter managed.
“Twenty-three metal pens, all crushed. Is that count right, Kohl?”
“Yes. Counting the one from my coat, that was the whole two dozen.” He swore fluently. “I need to call my sons.”
“I took the liberty. Damien assures me he’ll bring a new stock to you immediately, but that also means we won’t have them until at least noon tomorrow.”
Hunter set his jaw, but he kept his anger leashed. There was nothing to be gained in arguing with Kohl again. “I’ll do what I can. I won’t leave her while she needs me.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Kohl stated honestly. “Call if you need me. You have my leave. Care for her — whatever Sarah requires.”
* * * *
In the hours since, that tempting phrase had tortured Hunter. He learned quickly that his effect on Sarah only lasted as long as he touched her, and it was cumulative. The longer he held her and the more Hunter moved his hands over her, the more relief she got from his handling. Contenting himself with chaste stroking of her hair, face, arms, and back while his body screamed for release and hardened as she snuggled into him — while visions of stroking her in a much more satisfying fashion streamed through his mind — was maddening.
If anyone else could touch her, he would have released her. Well, Hunter would have tried to — forced himself to. If the alternative for Sarah were not so dire, he would have walked away. Some part of him craved her until even the thought of walking away seemed painful, all the more when she touched him in return.
At first, Sarah’s movements were almost non-existent. She rubbed her cheek against the curls covering his chest and lay her hand against the muscles of his arm. When he fed her bits of lunch, she sucked at his fingertips, removing the honey butter on them and starting a fire in his blood that was impossible to ignore and almost impossible to resist. Hunter tried to feed her dinner from a fork, but Sarah turned from it as if she were in pain. In desperation, he tried feeding her by hand again. She ate. Whatever his affect on her, it had to be Hunter and not simply his care.