It was time to leave and find her own way in the world. She only wished the idea didn’t scare her more than any demon ever had.
For the thousandth time, Maura reached for her twin sister, seeking the comfort of her presence. All she felt was the black chill of utter nothingness, leaving her to wonder if Sibyl was even alive. Even if she was, she was beyond reach now.
Maura was truly alone.
* * *
Cain thought he could follow Rory? That was cute and all, but that was the one nice thing about her curse: She could see him coming.
And it was Cain. She’d caught a glimpse of his hand, along with her pink hair, and doubted anyone else had hands that big, especially not with those same scars.
She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. She saw nothing. “I know you’re there. You might as well come out.”
This section of the street was dark. There wasn’t any traffic this late. The bars and nightclubs had long since closed. Dawn was still hours away. People were mostly asleep, giving her a bit of a reprieve from her suddenly hyperactive visions. She could still see what they saw, but at least it was the calm, quiet black of the inside of eyelids.
Cain stepped around the corner. He seemed even bigger than he’d been before, looming like some kind of giant. He was imposing, his body giving off ragged, desperate vibrations that called to her. If she hadn’t seen him save her life with her own eyes, she would be running right now.
But she wasn’t running. In fact, the urge to inch closer was nearly overwhelming. She remembered how it felt to be surrounded by his strength, to have the visions disappear, leaving her floating in peaceful serenity. It would be so easy to cross the distance and fling herself at him—beg him to make her problems and fear go away, just for a little while.
If she’d been a weaker person, that’s what she would have done. But weakness like that wasn’t a part of her makeup. It had been burned out of her DNA before birth, preparing her for a life that was harder than most.
She knew fear. She knew pain. Those things were as familiar as old friends. It was her neediness that freaked her out—her desire to get closer to a man she didn’t dare trust.
What if she found the person who stopped her visions and she couldn’t trust them, either? What if she never found a cure?
She couldn’t go there now. That place was a dark, scary one best left behind a locked door of nice, solid denial. She couldn’t possibly face both her deepest fears and Cain at the same time.
The wind ruffled his dark hair. His feet were braced apart, planted firmly on the pavement. He kept his hands at his sides, but it wasn’t a lazy stance. She had the distinct impression that he could have his invisible sword in hand in an instant if necessary.
“How did you know I was there? I didn’t make a sound.”
She ignored his question. “What do you want?”
“You need to come with me. We’re going to take you somewhere safe.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” She turned and walked toward where her car was parked. It was still a few blocks away, but the chances of her running into the person who blocked her visions were getting slimmer by the moment. Time to cut her losses and head home before the city woke up and she was too blind to drive.
“Please don’t make me stop you,” he said from behind her, much closer than he’d been a minute ago. “I really don’t want to touch you again.”
A spurt of adrenaline hurried her stride. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of running away. Power walking away didn’t count as a cowardly act. As far as she was concerned, power walking in public was an act of bravery whenever it was done. “Wow. Way to make a girl feel good.”
“You know what I mean.”
She did, but that didn’t mean she’d admit it. “I’m not asking you anymore. Leave me alone.”
“Or what?”
He had to go and ask, making her struggle for a good answer. “You saw my gun.”
“Empty.”
“I could have more bullets.”
“You would have used them on the demons.”
Good point.
He glided past her and stopped right in front of her, barring her path. Rory had to skid to a stop to keep from running into his wide chest.
She craned her head back to look him in the eye. Her body lit up with a giddy response to his nearness. Nerve endings danced a little jig, and tingling heat spread out over her skin.
His effect on her pissed her off, giving her the spurt of anger she needed to get her head on straight. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
His expression was solemn, almost regretful. “Saving your life. Again.”
“Did I ask you to?”
His mouth twisted like he’d just bit into a lemon. “What kind of dishonorable asshole makes a woman ask for such a thing?”
Even in the darkness she could see his eyes roaming her face, like he was searching for something important. A crazy part of her really wanted him to find whatever it was he was looking for.
Proof she was one step closer to that inevitable insanity conclusion.
She took a long step back. “I’m going to make this clear enough that even you can understand it. I’m not going anywhere with you. Ever. You’re wasting your time. Go away and don’t come back.”
He flinched. It was barely even a movement, more of a tightening of the fine muscles in his face, but she saw it anyway.
And it made her feel like shit.
Damn it. This would be so much easier if he didn’t have feelings for her to hurt.
She pulled in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a bitch, but this following me around thing is a bit stalkerish and creepy.”
“How else am I to protect you from demons if I’m not nearby?”
That was not the kind of question Rory had any practice answering. “You . . . don’t?”
“I can’t leave you to die. We need you too much.”
“I’m not the kind of person anyone needs. Really. I’ve got parts that don’t work right, my blood is dangerous, and I’m kind of a flake.”
“A flake of what?”
“Flaky. As in you can’t depend on me. I can’t even tell you how many jobs I’ve lost.”
“Because of your visions?”
“How the hell do you know about those?”
“You can’t trust a Sanguinar.”
“You mean Hope. She tricked me into telling her what she wanted to know and then she went and told you? Great.”
He nodded. “She’s not as bad as some. She only told me because she’s worried about you.”
“I’m a big girl.”
One side of his mouth lifted in a grin. “Hardly.”
No one was big compared to him. Rory had no trouble believing he was an alien, because humans weren’t built like that. Or maybe it was his presence that made him loom large—blocking out the existence of everything around him.
She squared her shoulders. “I mean I can protect myself.”
“Like you did earlier tonight?”
“You can’t prove that demon was going to eat my face if you hadn’t shown up.”
“I don’t feel the need to prove anything.”
“Then why are you arguing with me?”
“Because the alternatives are to sling you over my shoulder or render you unconscious. Both of those require me to touch you, which I’d rather not do.”
Again with the ego blow. This guy had the world’s deadliest aim when it came to that tender spot. “Does it really hurt you that much to touch me?”
“Only when I stop.”
Oh. Well. That was different. “When you touched me, my visions went away,” she admitted before she could control her flapping mouth.
His whole demeanor changed in a heartbeat. His eyes darkened and without moving, he was somehow closer than he’d been a second ago. She saw his throat move as he swallowed, and felt the heat of his body wrap around her.
She
shivered in reaction, and she was sure he saw it. He was the only man she’d ever met who she felt was looking at her, rather than skimming the surface. She’d always wondered what that would be like, but now that she was facing the brunt of his unwavering attention, she found it was too much for her to take. He made her squirm, made deep, needy parts of her wake up and howl.
“I stopped your suffering?” he asked, as if the answer was important to his very survival.
She didn’t understand his odd reaction, but her mouth was too dry to ask him about it. Instead, her chin went up, and he must have taken that as a nod.
“If I touched you now, do you think it would drive your visions away again?”
She did. She couldn’t say the words, but deep down she knew that if she so much as brushed his hand with hers, she’d be free.
At least for a moment.
“You make me want to take risks,” he whispered. “You make me forget the danger.” His hand hovered near her cheek, so close she swore she could feel sparks of static electricity arcing between them.
Why wasn’t she running? Why wasn’t she even backing away? This was the part where she was supposed to back away and deliver some kind of cutting quip. Instead, she felt herself sway on her feet, leaning toward him.
Even being this close felt good. Waves of heat swept out of him, driving away the wind. She couldn’t smell the dirt of the city, or lingering exhaust fumes. All she could smell was his skin and the leather of his jacket. The combination went to her head, making it spin.
His lips parted, and a warm current of air swirled up into the night.
He had a nice mouth. Not girlie, but full enough to be soft. Wherever he kissed her.
She was not thinking about letting this stranger kiss her. Was she?
Rory licked her lips and felt her breathing speed. His nostrils flared, and she swore his head dipped down a fraction of an inch before he stopped.
His pupils were huge, and there was a flush of color in his cheeks that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “You should back away.”
Back away? That wasn’t what she wanted. Getting closer would have been nice, though. She could wiggle up against him and soak up his heat. He could strip the barrage of visions from her, along with some of her clothes.
Oh, yeah. She was definitely thinking about letting him kiss her. And then some.
His deep, gravelly voice was so quiet she could barely hear it over her own thudding heart. “I’m not strong enough to stop.”
He made that sound like it was a bad thing when every cell in her body was doing a little happy dance at the idea of him not stopping.
She didn’t move. She couldn’t.
“If you don’t move away, I’m going to touch you, Rory.” His words rumbled out, vibrating against her skin.
Her eyes slid shut so she could focus on the feeling. There was no moving away for her now. Not anymore. Whatever he did to her was potent and intoxicating, driving away all rational thought. She didn’t even care that she hadn’t wanted this only a moment ago. She wanted it now. Bad.
His hand brushed her hair, barely tugging the pink strands.
It wasn’t enough. Not even close.
She tilted her head up to look at him. Her mouth was only inches from his. All she had to do was go up on tiptoe and she could kiss him.
This was so insane—so completely off-the-charts bonkers—that she didn’t even feel like herself anymore. There was some primal urge way deep down inside of her, driving her forward, demanding that she take what was hers.
She tried to remember that he wasn’t hers, but logic wasn’t rating high on her scale of things to care about right now. Her whole body was humming. She could hear whispered urges inside her skull and feel them radiating out of her skin.
His necklace pulsed with color, drawing her gaze. It was way too pretty for him to wear. It would look so much better on her, tucked close to her skin.
“I want it,” she whispered.
She reached for it, needing to feel its texture against her fingertip.
Cain was there one minute, and the next, he was simply gone. Rory blinked, her whole body swaying in discord. He was several feet away, breathing hard, his limbs vibrating with tension.
Disorientation swarmed in her head, along with narrow, dim sights that were not her own. Ceilings, walls, alarm clocks. The visions were coming from people sleeping nearby.
Normally, Rory never had to fight against what people saw when they slept. And now they were coming to her stronger than ever.
She closed her eyes, but that only made it worse. The visions were clearer, glaring at her in vibrant defiance.
She saw some woman’s knees as she sat on the toilet. A man pulled a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Rory?” came Cain’s deep voice.
The sound of it calmed her enough for her to remember to breathe.
“I need to go.” Now, while she could still see well enough to drive, before the city woke up and she was trapped here to suffer all day.
She took three steps and ran into a brick wall she hadn’t seen.
“You’re not going anywhere like this. Let me help.”
“Don’t touch me. Don’t even get near me. Every time you do it gets worse.”
“Fine. I won’t touch you. Just stop moving before you walk out into a street.”
Rory stopped. This crazy vision steroid thing he did to her would fade. It had before. It would again.
“Logan. I need your help,” she heard Cain say, presumably into his phone.
She crouched low to the ground, putting a bit more distance between her and those living in the upper floors of any nearby apartment buildings.
“It’s not that close to dawn,” he said. “Fine, then send Hope. She needs our help.”
He was talking about Rory. She was still pissed at Hope for tricking her like she had. Now everyone knew about Rory’s visions, which was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid her entire life. “I’ll be fine. I just need to get to my car.”
“You’re not getting behind a wheel when you can’t even see to walk.”
“I need to get away from people.” If there were no people around, there were no eyeballs around to shove images into her brain.
“Will that help?” asked Cain.
“Yes.”
“I’m taking her to a Gerai house,” he told whoever was on the phone. “Joseph can send someone to pick her up.”
Rory didn’t know what a Gerai house was, and she truly didn’t care. “I’ll be fine in a minute. I’ll be even better if you leave.”
“Are you going to come quietly, or not?”
“Not. I told you I’ll be fine.” And she really hoped it wasn’t a lie.
“I’m sorry about this,” he said, regret hanging in his voice like an executioner’s axe.
“About what?” She opened her eyes and stood. The visions were blocking most of her sight, but she saw enough to witness his big body approaching.
He moved too fast to be real. Too fast for her to even pull in a full breath to scream. His wide palm pressed hot against her forehead, and said, “Sleep.”
Rory did.
Chapter 6
Cain caught Rory as she crumpled. The metallic sting of drawing in enough power to make her sleep still burned his hand, but the rest of his pain was blissfully absent.
He held her in his arms and caressed her cheek as he’d been dying to do before. She was even softer than he’d remembered, her skin warm and smooth under his rough fingertips.
As much as he would have loved to linger over her, there wasn’t time. She wouldn’t sleep long, and when she woke, he wanted her to be as far away from people as possible. If that’s what helped mute her painful visions, then that’s what he’d do.
The walk back to the shelter seemed to pass in a blink of time. Her ridiculously pink head was cradled against him so that her forehead was pressed to his neck. The smell of something sweet filled his nostrils, and he
kept breathing it in, trying to identify the intoxicating scent. It reminded him of spring, the way it used to smell centuries ago.
He made sure her skin never left contact with his. The blast of agony he suffered whenever he stopped touching her was not something he wanted to face until absolutely necessary. It was as consuming as it was incapacitating. Night was still upon them and demons roamed free. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to fight if the pain hit him again. He wasn’t sure he’d even be able to stand. The thought of dropping her made him careful, not that touching her was any hardship.
The soft brush of her breath over his skin made every muscle in his body tighten in anticipation and longing. She made him want things he refused to name. She gave him hope where he’d thought none could be found, and while that was a gift, it was also a curse. Hope was good only while it lasted, while there was still some question as to the future.
But how much question could there be when she clearly didn’t like him, when she couldn’t wait to be rid of him?
And yet she’d nearly touched his luceria. She’d said she wanted it.
Of course she had no idea what she was getting herself into. There was no way she could know.
The fact that he’d almost chosen not to stop her showed just how far he’d slid from the man he’d once been.
Cain knocked on the shelter door and Hope let him in, panic straining her voice. “What happened?”
“She’s just sleeping. I couldn’t let her run away.”
“You did this to her?”
Cain carried her back toward the safe room. “I had to. She left me no choice.”
“Oh, man. She is going to be furious when she wakes up.”
“As long as she’s still alive, she can be as mad as she wants.”
Logan sat bent over the small demon carcass with a scalpel in his hand. He looked up as Cain entered and rose from his seat.
Falling Blind: The Sentinel Wars Page 7