Falling Blind: The Sentinel Wars

by Shannon K. Butcher

  Just as he’d commanded, the human guard opened the gate, allowing him passage. Connal was certain the human would do the rest of his job as he’d been compelled to do.

  Now all Connal had to do was reach safety before the sun rose. And he knew just where to go.

  Chapter 24

  Ronan was shaking with effort when he woke. The Synestryn lord’s hold on him was growing stronger. Ronan wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to maintain control. As it was, it took him several long minutes to shove back the swelling rage and need to kill that pulsed through his veins.

  He needed to feed. He was weak from fighting, weak from keeping the demon at bay.

  The smell of food drove him upstairs. Rory lay sleeping on the couch, her pink hair spread out across the leather arm. Her pulse beat in her neck, so steady and strong it made Ronan’s mouth water.

  He glided toward her, seeing the light from his eyes spilling over her in an icy glare. He knelt by her side and lifted her toward his mouth.

  The hiss of steel being drawn stopped Ronan cold.

  “Bad idea,” said Cain from behind him.

  Rage surged through Ronan, combining with hunger until there was no room left for rational thought. “I need,” was all he could spit out.

  “Need someone else’s blood. She’s off-limits.”

  Cain didn’t understand hunger. Not truly. He knew pain, but not weakness—not the grinding need for something he was constantly denied.

  Just one drink. That’s all he needed to keep him going so he could seek out another source of sustenance. He would be careful. Gentle.

  Ronan lowered his head. The cold prick of steel burned at the nape of his neck.

  “Back off, Ronan. That demon is fucking with your head. This isn’t you.”

  It was him. The real him. Shivering and weak with hunger, craving something so rare that the fleeting bits he got were barely enough to keep him going—more like teasing hints meant to torture him with what he could never have.

  But he understood Cain’s quiet threat. He believed it. Theronai males were unreasonable when it came to the blood of their women.

  Ronan set Rory down and turned to face Cain. “I’m too weak to hunt. The demon within me . . .”

  Cain sheathed his sword and rolled up his sleeve. “Take only what you need to go hunt. Not a drop more. I need to be strong enough to fight.”

  Ronan took what he was offered. Cain’s power flowed into him, fueling his mind enough for the fog of bloodlust to dissipate. As soon as he was able, he pulled away from the larger man, closing his wounds.

  “I must leave now,” said Ronan, being careful not to look at the temptation Rory posed, lying there like an offering.

  Cain nodded. “We’re hunting for the demon tonight. Call if you want to join us. I know you want him dead as much as I do.”

  Ronan wasn’t so sure. As much as he should have wanted the demon dead, part of him was growing fond of the dark presence crouched in his thoughts. He knew that wasn’t right—that he shouldn’t feel that way—but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  The longer Raygh was in his head, the more familiar they became. Maybe if he just stopped fighting, it wouldn’t be so bad. Raygh had power. Oceans of it. He was rarely hungry, and when he was, he took his fill.

  What would it be like to be sated? Truly full?

  Ronan had no idea, but if Raygh could help him find out, then perhaps he wasn’t completely evil.

  * * *

  Cain watched Ronan go, knowing the man was running out of time. Having been near the end himself, he knew what that looked like. The desperation and fear. The realization that time was not an endless river flowing past, but a shallow kiddie pool too small to hold all the things he really wanted to do with his life.

  And there had been something else in Ronan’s eyes that had bothered Cain. A kind of acceptance. Almost submission. The Sanguinar hadn’t even fought him for more blood.

  Whatever was going on, it wasn’t good. And while Cain was a long way from trusting anyone the way he had Gilda and Angus, he actually liked working with Ronan. He wasn’t all creepy and mysterious like so many of the Sanguinar. He was more pragmatic, and that was something Cain respected.

  The last thing he wanted was for Ronan to lose his battle with the demon and go crazy. Because if that happened, Cain worried that he might actually have to use his sword on the man, rather than merely threaten to use it.

  Rory still hadn’t moved. He’d helped her to sleep. He was sure she’d be angry about that, but he knew what she’d face if she didn’t take care of her body. He’d fought by Gilda’s and Angus’s sides for enough centuries to know how it worked, and he’d rather Rory be angry than to have her simply run out of steam at a dangerous time.

  He would have liked nothing more than to stay here and watch her sleep, but there wasn’t time for that. The longer that demon roamed the earth, the more threat he posed. And while he would have preferred to tuck her away somewhere safe, that wasn’t going to work. Not only was there no place he could take her without risking the inhabitants of Dabyr, he also didn’t trust anyone else to protect her the way he would—down to his last breath.

  So, Cain tucked her in the car, buckled the seat belt, and hit the road.

  He drove toward the system of caves closest to where Rory had first had her control ripped away by the demon. There were no guarantees that this was the place, but it was as good a guess as any.

  Maybe once Ronan fed he’d have some better ideas about where to look.

  The vehicle the Gerai had left for Cain’s use was smaller than he liked. His head kept bumping the headliner as they bounced along the country road. His shoulder brushed Rory’s every few minutes. Her scent filled the confined space, tempting him with memories of what they’d shared.

  He would have rather spent the rest of the night lying with her, coaxing as much pleasure from her body as she could stand, but that was a dream for men whose mates accepted them. Rory wanted his power, and she’d even wanted his body, but she didn’t want him—at least not in the way that really counted.

  Still, if the power he gave her drew her to him, then that was the lure he’d use. He refused to give up on her. There was too much at stake.

  As they drew closer to a small town, she began to shift in her seat and make little whimpering sounds of discomfort.

  Her visions. They seemed to be growing stronger if the tension vibrating through her was any indication. Every time a car passed them, her whole body jerked in her sleep. Finally, Cain took her hand in his, hoping his touch would make it stop.

  A car in the opposite lane swerved to miss some roadkill, and Cain had to swerve off the road to avoid collision. He’d instinctively put both hands on the wheel, and in doing so, he’d stopped touching Rory.

  She came awake with a start, and he could feel the clammy pulses of shock buffeting their link.

  “Where are we?” she asked after a few seconds. Her voice was low and sexy with the remnants of sleep.

  “Heading east, to where you first felt the demon’s presence.”

  She opened the bottle of water sitting between them and drank deeply. “I think we’re getting closer.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “That cage Ronan built? I feel it rattling now.”

  Oh, hell, no. If the beast got loose, there wouldn’t be a thing Cain could do to stop it. There would be nothing physical for him to kill. She would become the threat, and no matter who was pulling her strings, he knew he wouldn’t be able to strike her down. The best he could do was knock her out, and he wasn’t even sure that would work.

  Cain pulled over on the side of the road. There was little traffic, but enough that it rocked this little toy car as it passed.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He pulled out his phone. “Calling for backup. I think it’s a bad idea for you to go after this demon. I’ll call for someone else to guard you while I hunt for it.”
>
  “What? I’m not sitting around with some babysitter. I’m not afraid, you know.”

  “Yeah? Well, I am. I’m scared as hell that Ronan’s cage will fail and you’ll lose control again.”

  “So? If that happens, knock me out. It worked last time.”

  “I’m not taking any chances. The demon has to die, but you don’t have to come with me. I’ll find someone who will be willing to guard you with his life.” Morgan, perhaps. Or Nicholas. Both men were fierce, noble warriors. Both would come if Cain asked.

  What if one of them was the man she was looking for—the savior who freed her from her visions? What if she was compatible with one of them?

  Cain couldn’t let that sway him. He hesitated for only a second before he sent out a text asking for help.

  “Whoa. Just hold the fuck on. I’m the one with the demon-in-a-box. Not you.”

  “Yes, but your safety is my responsibility.”

  From the way her face turned a mottled, angry red, he was guessing that was the wrong thing to say.

  Her eye twitched. “I haven’t been anyone’s responsibility in a long time. I’m a grown woman and I will make my own choices. Especially when it comes down to deciding what to do to evict the prick in my head.”

  This was going to end badly, and yet he couldn’t think of a single reasonable thing he could say to refute her. She was an adult. It was her head the demon inhabited. The longer they argued about it, the more danger there was of the beast breaking free.

  Nicholas’s texted reply came back fast. Dabyr on lockdown. No one can leave. Will come as soon as possible.

  Lockdown? texted Cain.

  Long story.

  Are any warriors nearby who can help?

  Only Ronan.

  Looked like they were on their own.

  Cain managed to keep his voice calm despite the churning need to scream her into submission. “What do you want to do?”

  “Find the fucker. Kill it.”

  “You make it sound simple. I assure you it’s not. Especially if Ronan’s protections are failing.”

  She stared at him, her dark gaze hard. A flicker of insecurity made her chin wobble, but it was gone before he could be sure he’d seen it.

  “Then how is it?” she asked. “Tell me what to expect. Show me like you did before.” She thrust her chin out at him, as if daring him. “Go ahead. I can take it. Whatever scary things we’ll see, whatever nasty hordes we’ll face . . . I can take it.”

  Maybe she could. Maybe she was as tough as she thought she was. But he didn’t want to put any of that in her head. He wanted her life to be safe and happy and filled with clean, beautiful things. Not demons and monsters and the remnants of ravaged children. He’d seen enough of those things for both of them. He needed her life to be better.

  Just as he’d tried to make it better for Sibyl. He’d fought her every attempt to play a role in the war. The few times he’d been forced to take her into danger, it had nearly killed him. And the night she was stolen . . . Cain still had nightmares.

  He’d wrapped Sibyl up tighter, forcing her to stay safe, and the first chance she’d had to leave, she’d taken it.

  What if Rory did the same thing?

  That was his mistake. All this time he’d been trying to keep Rory out of danger. But if she was to be a true partner—the way he wanted her to be—she couldn’t sit behind and wait for him to come home from battle. She had to be by his side, fighting and killing and facing all the horror associated with those acts.

  In that moment he realized that shutting himself off as he had was not doing her any favors. Sure, it might prolong his life, but it could just as easily cost hers. She didn’t know what to expect, and the only way she could was to either live through it—which they didn’t have time for—or for him to show her what he’d lived through.

  Cain’s job was to keep her safe, and the best way to do that was to teach her how to stay alive in combat. Because if she chose to stay with him, war would be her life from now on. It wouldn’t be a safe place filled with clean, beautiful things. It would be scary and dangerous and dark.

  But he needed her. And the world needed her, too, even if it didn’t know it.

  The car rocked as a truck sped past them. She was still staring, waiting for her answer.

  Once he did this, he wouldn’t be able to undo it. His skills with removing memories weren’t that good, and he wouldn’t risk damaging her.

  “Be sure, Rory. Once you see these things, they can’t be unseen.”

  “I’ve already had my share of nightmarish memories. A few more is no big deal.”

  “You had two horrible days in captivity, and a few fleeting encounters. I have centuries of battles in my head.”

  “If you can take it, I can take it. Besides, think of all the strategy and tactics you know, all the information you’ve collected.”

  “You’re sure?” he asked, hoping for a reprieve.

  “I’m sure.”

  Cain nodded and cupped her face in his hands. Feeling her skin against his again eased some of the raging terror stampeding through him. He still hated this, but at least it was easier to face when he was touching her.

  He gathered up the things he’d seen, the battles he’d fought, the demons he’d killed. He collected it all together in a growing ball of images and sensory details. The barrier he’d built between them dissipated like smoke in the wind, letting a roar of pure thought flow out of him.

  Rory jerked and made a choking sound. Her body went tense, and her eyes rolled back in her head. A silent scream ripped through her, but she didn’t try to fight him. She didn’t try to stop the torrent of information. She accepted it into herself, without judgment for the things he’d done or hadn’t done.

  His failures blazed in blinding detail as they bubbled from the depths of his memory, but Rory absorbed them, too, unfazed by his countless mistakes.

  Slowly, as the memories flickered and died like a flame starved of oxygen, she drew in a long, sucking breath. “Wow.”

  Cain studied her face, certain he’d see disgust or at least disappointment cross her features. Instead, what he saw was sheer awe.

  “You really are old,” she said.

  A rusty laugh broke free of his chest. “That’s all you’ve got to say? I show you my life’s work and that’s it?”

  “Yeah, sure, there were monsters and junk. But damn, Cain. You’ve held up well, all things considered.”

  “You’re not afraid? You’re not upset?”

  “I’m completely blown away. You’ve been through some awful stuff—lots more than me. Kinda makes me feel safe.”

  Shock rattled him. That was the last thing he’d thought she’d say. “Safe?”

  “Yeah. I mean, look at all the crazy shit you’ve survived. With you on my side, I’m invincible.”

  “Hardly. And don’t you dare go getting cocky on me. That’s a good way to get us both killed.”

  Her eyes went wide and she gripped his arms hard enough to leave bruises. The color leached from her skin and her whole body began to shake.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “The demon. It . . . figured out what just happened. It knows what’s in my head now—all that information you showed me, how you fight, what you know, where you live.”

  “What about it?”

  “The demon wants to see it, too.”

  Chapter 25

  Rory tried to get a grip, but panic was coursing through her, piling on top of the crazy collage of memories Cain had put in her head. She wanted to play it cool, to pretend that what he’d done hadn’t rocked her all the way to her foundation. Making light of what she’d seen had helped dispel some of the lingering fear and pain left behind. But she couldn’t be flippant about the demon. Not when she felt how close it was to breaking free.

  “I think we need to find Ronan,” she said. “I’m not sure how much longer his box is going to hold.”

  Cain was already dialing his pho
ne before she finished speaking. “We need to meet.” He listened for a moment. “Yes, we’re close. We will be there.”

  Cain pulled back onto the road.

  Rory was hit with a barrage of images as a cluster of cars passed. She closed her eyes and tried not to let the bright flicker coming at her make her puke. People were walking, driving, watching TVs. It all slammed together, clashing in discordant, nauseating chaos. She gripped Cain’s hand, not caring that it made her look weak. She couldn’t fight the visions, too. Not now. It was taking all of her concentration to hold together the shaking walls of the cage Ronan had constructed.

  As her skin met his, visual peace settled over her, making her slump with relief. Now that one set of stimuli was gone, she felt the jarring rattle of the demon in her head. As soon as she noticed the thing searching for a way out, it stopped. She could feel its sinister intent, but the specifics of what it was trying to do were lost to her. It wanted to break free, but there was more to it than that—more even than its desire for the knowledge Cain had given her. She just wasn’t sure what it was.

  The one thing she did know was that it was close to busting out of the cage Ronan had formed, and if that happened, there wouldn’t be a thing she could do to stop it from hijacking her body. With Cain this close, she had no doubt he’d be her first casualty.

  * * *

  The woman was getting closer. Raygh could feel her drawing near, bringing with her both information and blood. He wanted to shove himself into her mind and force her to come to him, but he restrained himself, biding his time. Breaking out of the cage the Sanguinar used to protect the woman’s mind would take too much effort. Weaken him.

  Eventually, she would be his to punish. He would take from her the knowledge the Theronai warrior had given her, and then use what was left of her to quench his thirst for vengeance. She’d been there when Krag had died. She’d allowed it to happen, mocked him. That was not something he could let go unanswered, no matter how enticing the knowledge she carried within her was.

  None of his minions had managed to find more blood for him. It was as if all of his targets had disappeared into hiding, out of his reach.