Falling Blind: The Sentinel Wars

by Shannon K. Butcher

  “And what about your life? You’re shaking, your skin is pale, and you look a little unsteady on your feet. If demons smell the blood and come here, you’re not going to be in any shape to swing that big ol’ sword around.”

  “I’ll manage. I’ve been weaker than this before and survived.”

  “She’s right,” said Ronan from the stairway. “Rory’s life is precious. You need to be able to keep her safe.” The blood was washed off his face, leaving him even more beautiful than before.

  She turned to face him, irritation grating along her nerves. “Rory has a gun. She can keep herself safe.”

  Ronan had the balls to smile at her. “You are delightful. Have we met before?”

  “No.” She was fairly sure she would have remembered a man like him if she’d so much as seen him walk down the street.

  “You smell . . . familiar.”

  “Smell?” She turned to Cain in humiliated horror. “Do I smell?”

  “You smell lovely,” said Cain, his voice so rough with desire she had to press her thighs together around a pulse of raw need.

  Ronan took a step closer. “I’m certain we’ve met before. Your scent . . .” His eyes widened in recognition and flared pale blue. He turned to Cain, his voice harsh with urgency. “Get her out of here.”

  “What is it?” asked Cain.

  “The Synestryn lord who left me weakened and bleeding—it sent out these scorpion-like creatures to hunt down certain people. That’s why she smelled familiar. Rory’s scent was one that it was seeking, and recently found.”

  “You mean those things with the three barbs sticking out of their tails?” asked Rory.

  “Yes. Have you seen them?”

  “One of them stung her last night,” said Cain.

  “So the Synestryn has her blood now.”

  “What for? Why does some demon want my blood?”

  “To connect to you. To hunt you. To . . .” He trailed off, and reached for her.

  Rory stepped out of the way even as Cain shoved his body between them.

  Ronan cast a look of irritation at Cain, and leaned around his shoulder. “Have you had any nightmares since you were stung?”

  “No.”

  “She hasn’t slept except for a few minutes of rest I forced on her,” said Cain.

  Ronan went back to ignoring her and told Cain, “Guard her sleep. That demon found me while I slept. It could be because I connected to the mind of one of its minions, but it could also be something the Synestryn can do with the blood they took.”

  “Did one of them get your blood, too?” asked Rory.

  “Yes. And the nightmare . . . let’s just say you don’t want to face what this particular Synestryn has in store.”

  “No sleeping. Got it.”

  Cain turned around, concern tightening his brows. “You have to sleep sometime.”

  “So do you, Cain. Now that I’ve taken so much of your blood.” Ronan’s hand gripped the back of Cain’s neck, and he swayed on his feet.

  Ronan sagged a bit, looking thinner than he had a moment ago. His eyes flared bright, and then the light died out like a flame starved of oxygen.

  Cain grabbed Ronan’s arms and eased him down to the couch. “There was no need for that.”

  “Yes, there was. You know how rare women like Rory are. We can’t lose her. You have to be able to keep her safe.”

  “I have a gun,” Rory nearly shouted. “None of you seem to hear me when I say that.”

  Cain spared her only a brief glance. “Guns won’t work—not unless you blow off their heads.”

  “I can do that,” she said with more confidence than she felt.

  Outside, a piercing howl split the twilight.

  Rory’s shoulders shot up by her ears as a knot of fear coiled tight along her spine. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Cain looked at her, but his expression was anything but comforting. Rage twitched around his mouth, and his eyes were narrowed with determination. “Demons,” he confirmed.

  Ronan was panting a little as he spoke. “You should go now. Get her away from here. I’ll stay here and draw them away.”

  From the pained look on Cain’s face, that was clearly a bad idea. At least it was for Ronan.

  “He’s not going to be safe here alone, is he?” asked Rory.

  “Not in this condition.”

  “I’ll be fine,” said Ronan.

  “We can’t leave him alone, can we?” she asked, ignoring Ronan’s protestations with a little stab of satisfaction. See how he liked being treated as if he were invisible.

  “He’s a healer. We need him.”

  Ronan pushed to his feet. “I’m strong enough to drive.”

  Rory didn’t see how. He was paler than before, since he’d touched Cain. He looked all frail, like an old man, even if his face was a thing of beauty. “You said this demon had access to your brain. What if he tries something and makes you crash?”

  “I’ll resist.”

  “How?” asked Cain. “Unless you take more blood.”

  “You can’t spare any more. It was shameful of me to take as much as I did.”

  Another howl rose, this time much, much closer.

  From out of nowhere, Rory was hit by the need to fight. It burned in her, so bright and fierce she felt like she’d explode if she didn’t let it out. She grabbed her gun from her purse and made a beeline for the front door.

  Cain grabbed her by the arm to stop her. “Where are you going?”

  “To kill me some demons. Obviously. You two are too busy yammering to do the job yourself. Someone’s got to.”

  Ronan tilted his head to the side as he studied her. “That creature that haunted my dreams. I sense its presence in her—its malevolent taint. This has got to be some sort of compulsion,” he said. “Perhaps to drive her out into the night so that she’s easier to find.”

  She ripped free of Cain’s grasp. “Oh, I’m easy to find, all right. Let the fuckers come get me.”

  She started for the door, only to have Cain grab her around the waist and stop her progress. “Not tonight. There will be other nights to fight. Tonight, we run.”

  “I am not a coward,” she snarled at him, working to pry his thick arm away from her body.

  It was no use. Her legs were off of the floor, giving her no leverage.

  Cain dropped her on the couch, following her down to cage her body with his. His face was taut with tension, his voice low and earnest. “The demons have your blood. They can make you do things. The power I fed you earlier is only temporary, and once it fades, you’ll be weak. You need to calm down.”

  Rory was not that easy to control. She was no one’s puppet—demon or otherwise. She wanted to kill. Needed it. No one was going to stand in her way. Not even Cain.

  “There’s no time for this,” said Ronan. “We must leave.”

  Synestryn howled again, and this time it was much closer. She could no longer stop herself. She had to get out there.

  Power circled her throat. All she had to do was figure out how to shape it so that she could get Cain to back off and let her pass.

  “Rory,” he said, his tone a warning. “I can feel that. What are you doing?”

  Energy leapt into her, eager to do her bidding. It wasn’t nearly as exhausting as it had been before. In fact, she was sure that the flow of power into her was faster now. Thicker.

  She gathered it up and used it to strengthen her limbs. With one hard shove, Cain was tossed backward and out of her way. She bounced up and sprinted for the door, her legs fueled by the magic flowing into her.

  Rory made it outside. The door behind her bounced hard on its hinges. Cold air hit her face, scented with something dark and musky.

  Demons.

  She bared her teeth and started to sprint in their direction, but a second later, she was tossed sideways by a hot, heavy battering ram.

  Cain’s bulk pinned her to the ground. His mouth was tight with anger, his eyes bright with
fear.

  She fought his hold, driven to find those demons. She needed to make their blood flow—to set them on fire and watch them burn. Why could Cain not understand that? He was supposed to want the same thing.

  No matter what she did, she couldn’t find enough strength to slip his grasp. Even the power that had been at her fingertips before seemed to sputter and fail as she reached for it.

  Cain cupped her chin in one hand. She felt him shove his way into her mind, his determination burning so bright she could no longer see her own thoughts through the glare.

  His deep voice settled over her. “Calm down.”

  She couldn’t. She had to get up and fight.

  Another hand appeared from over her head. The fingers were long and skinny, almost feminine—not at all like Cain’s. The hand settled on her forehead, cold and unwanted. Pain sliced through her skull, making her cry out. Ronan’s face hovered over her, flat and without mercy.

  Her vision started to go gray. Her limbs began to buzz with the beginnings of numbness. A weak lethargy fell over her like a warm blanket. She tried to fight it, but she was pulled down, sucked into the silent black of sleep. The last thing she saw was Cain’s expression of anguished regret as he said, “I’m sorry.”

  Chapter 13

  Cain couldn’t stay and fight. Not now. The Synestryn would have to wait for another time when he didn’t have an unconscious woman and a weak Sanguinar to protect. When he wasn’t weak himself.

  Ronan got behind the wheel of his van. Cain didn’t wait for an invitation to come along. He simply picked Rory up and climbed into the back, furious at what Ronan had done.

  “Go,” ordered Cain. His voice came out as a growl of anger.

  Ronan took off down the gravel driveway. “I didn’t hurt her.”

  “You weren’t exactly gentle, either.”

  “I had to knock her out. You saw how rabid she’d become. She was willing to do whatever it took to go after those demons—no matter who she had to go through to make it happen. It was the right choice.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure she’ll see it that way when she wakes up.” And the fact that Cain had held her in place for Ronan to subdue was not going to sit well with her.

  Cain tried not to care if she was angry at him. As long as she stayed out of danger, she could be as mad as she liked. But that was a lie. He was trying to connect to her, to tie her to him. Letting Ronan hurt her wasn’t exactly the way to win her over.

  “Shall I head for Dabyr?”

  That would have been Cain’s first choice, but they would never find the person who blocked her visions from behind those walls. And so many people around would hurt her. If he tried to lock her up there, he knew she’d find a way to escape, and there were too many humans around to get hurt.

  She’d already proven that she was willing to use his power against him. He’d felt her intent as clearly as if it had been his own. What if she used his power against the humans as well? She could easily kill someone. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t force her to live with the guilt that kind of mistake would create.

  “She was definitely compelled to act. I could feel the power of it spreading through her as I touched her mind.” Cain caught Ronan’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Can you free her?”

  “It’s possible, but the creature I touched was strong.”

  “So is she. If anyone can shake this off, she can.”

  “I’ll need more blood—more than you can give. I’m currently too weak to do much. And some of that blood will need to be hers. There’s no way around that.”

  Every protective instinct in Cain stood up and roared in defiance, but he knew the stakes. He knew Ronan wouldn’t hurt her. At least no more than he had to.

  As angry as he was at what Ronan had done, Cain knew it had been the right choice. His hesitation could have cost them Rory’s life had Ronan not acted when he did.

  And that wasn’t the only thing men like Ronan had done for him. The Sanguinar had restored Cain’s fertility. They’d given him something he’d never thought he’d have again. And with that gift of hope, they’d earned his trust. At least more than he’d given them in the past.

  “I’ll put out the call,” said Cain. “I’ll make sure you get what you need.”

  “Do I head east toward the closest Gerai house?”

  “No. South. Toward her house. I think she’ll feel better if she’s at home when she wakes. It’s not far.”

  Ronan drove while Cain split his attention between Rory and the surrounding landscape. He saw no signs of demons, but he knew they were out there. The demons were always out there.

  By the time Ronan pulled into Rory’s driveway, Paul and Andra were already there, waiting. Paul’s sword was out, his gaze on the line of trees skirting Rory’s property. Andra’s long body was propped up against the white porch, watching Paul. As the van pulled in, Andra galloped down the steps, her combat boots kicking up little clouds of dust as the stairs bounced under her feet. Paul stayed put, watching her back.

  She pulled the van door open. Moonlight gleamed off her leather coat and her blue eyes went straight to Rory. “She okay?”

  “She will be,” said Cain. “Thanks for coming.”

  Andra gave a nonchalant shrug. “We were nearby, and tonight’s fun really hasn’t gotten started yet.”

  Despite her comment, Cain thought she looked tired, worn thin and desolate. There were circles under her eyes, and sadness lurking along her mouth.

  Then again, Andra’s baby sister, Tori, was in bad shape after a decade in the hands of the Synestryn. They’d fed her their blood, tortured and raped her. That was more than enough to fuck up anyone. She’d recently left Earth in the hopes that a powerful woman on another world would find some way to clean the Synestryn poison from Tori’s blood, and with it the homicidal rage she suffered.

  That was months ago, and no one had heard from Tori since. It was no wonder Andra looked like she’d had more than her fair share of sleepless nights.

  Ronan glided up to Andra’s side, a strange excitement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “How are you?”

  She gave him a brief glance and uttered a distracted, “Fine.”

  “Let’s get inside,” said Paul.

  Andra nodded at her husband. “I’ll put up some defenses.”

  Paul shot her a worried look. “Don’t push yourself, okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  She wasn’t, but Paul was obviously aware of that.

  Cain carried Rory inside. Ronan held the door. Paul cradled Andra’s neck in his hand and a faint blue light seeped over the house. Cain could see it shimmering over the windows, warping the view outside.

  “That should hide us for a while,” she said as she shut the door.

  Cain laid Rory on her bed, arranging her so she looked comfortable.

  Paul stood in the bedroom doorway, watching. “What happened?”

  “A Synestryn took her blood and compelled her to run toward combat. Ronan thinks he can help, but he’s low on juice. I’ve given all I can.”

  Paul nodded, his face impassive. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Paul’s gaze hit the luceria around Rory’s neck. “Congratulations.”

  A little spurt of excitement shot through Cain as he stared at her. The colors in the luceria had darkened, streaming with a deep amethyst purple. “Don’t be too hasty with the congratulations. We’ll see how long she stays by my side.”

  “You’re a good man. I’m sure she’ll see that.”

  Cain couldn’t look at his friend as he admitted, “I’m not the man I used to be. And she knows what happened the night Sibyl was taken. Hell, tonight I couldn’t even do the right thing and render her unconscious so she wouldn’t go and hurt herself. What woman wants to tie herself for eternity to a man who keeps screwing up?”

  “You’re too hard on yourself. And if she isn’t smart enough to see through to the man you really are, she do
esn’t deserve you.”

  Cain snorted. “No big deal, I’ll just go out and find the next compatible female Theronai on the streets.”

  “How close are you?” asked Paul.

  Cain didn’t need to ask for clarification. He knew exactly what the other man meant. “I was down to two leaves when I found her.”

  Paul winced in sympathy. “What did she promise?”

  “To stick with me until she finds the person who blocks these visions she has. They’re debilitating, but seem to go away when I touch her. Then they come right back with a vengeance.”

  “So you’re not the person, then?”

  “No. Whoever it is, they are able to help her from some distance. Rory’s never even seen them as far as I know. She thinks it might be some kind of magical device.”

  “Gilda had a fairly comprehensive list of items. I’ll call Joseph and ask him to have someone look for it. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  “I know I should be busting my ass to help Rory cure her visions, but I can’t say I’m enthusiastic about her vow being fulfilled.”

  “Right. Of course. I understand. No calling Joseph.”

  Paul turned on his heel and left. Cain sat there for a long moment, staring down at Rory’s sweet face. Her dark makeup was a smeared mess around her eyes, and there was a red mark on her forehead that looked suspiciously like the outline of Ronan’s fingers.

  Cain smoothed his hand over the mark, wishing he could wipe it away.

  If he’d been a little faster the night he’d met her, she never would have been stabbed by the demon. Her blood would be safe, and she would be awake and as feisty as ever. Instead, she was locked in an unnatural sleep, possibly with those nightmares Ronan had warned them about.

  As much as Cain wished there had been something he could do, he wasn’t that powerful. All he could do was make sure Ronan got what he needed to help her.

  No, that was wrong. There was something else he could do—something he knew he should do.

  Cain dialed Joseph, but the leader of the Theronai did not answer his phone. Cain left a message, telling Joseph to find Gilda’s list of magical artifacts and search for one that could help Rory. With that chore done, he eased her out of her spiked leather coat and tugged off her shoes to make her more comfortable. He pulled the blankets up to her chin and went to figure out just how much blood it was going to take to fix his precious Rory.