Her heart lodged in her throat again, stealing away what little calm she’d managed to regain.
“Open up,” said Iain. “We need to talk.”
“Later,” she called through the door.
“No. Now.”
He was right. The longer she put this off, the worse it was going to be. She was already shaking and numb from suffering through that ceremony. Best to get it over with now.
She opened the door and moved away from it as if it were on fire. Iain stalked inside, shutting and locking it behind him.
“What the hell was that?” he demanded. His mouth was drawn tight, and his body shook with anger.
She’d seen that look before. It was the same one he wore when he killed.
Jackie struggled to find her voice. “I thought you’d be happy.”
At least until she left, like she was planning to do. He’d be pissed then, and now that she was facing that anger, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be on the receiving end of it.
His voice grew quiet, but that made it no less cold. “There are dozens of men who need you more than I do.”
“I can’t be what they want me to be.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? You already are what they want you to be.”
She shook her head. “No. They think I’m some kind of savior. That I’m what they’ve been hoping for all their lives. It’s too much pressure.” She swallowed, forcing herself to stand her ground. “But not you. You have no hope.”
His black eyes narrowed and he moved forward, his smooth gait menacing and predatory. His voice was lethally quiet and he looked at her with unveiled suspicion. “What do you mean by that?”
She backed up until she ran into the couch, which kept her from retreating farther. “The others…they all looked at me like I’m the answer to their problems. I’m not. You get that.”
“So you picked me because you can’t save me?”
She shook her head. “Because you don’t seem to want to be saved. I figured that when I fail to be what all these people think I’ll be, that my failure would be easier on you than the others.”
“You’re wrong. Take it back. Pick someone else.”
“Why?”
She heard muffled voices through her door. Someone said something about remotely unlocking it, and her door flew open. Joseph stood there, with Drake and Helen behind him.
“What are you doing here?” asked Iain.
“You looked angry,” said Joseph. “I wasn’t about to let you do something stupid.”
A calm facade covered Iain’s face. Gone was the anger that had been there only a moment ago, as if he’d simply willed it away. “Of course I’m not angry. I’m simply anxious to complete our union. I didn’t think it would be kind to do it in public—rubbing it in, so to speak.”
“There will be no union,” said Jackie.
Every head swiveled her way, and four sets of eyes rested on her.
“What?” asked Joseph as he moved forward. Behind him, Drake shut the door.
Jackie was done being intimidated. She didn’t like it. She squared her shoulders and smoothed her hands over her suit to remind herself who was in charge of her life. “Our deal was that I pick a man, not that I do anything else. I’ve picked. Now you have to let me leave. Alone.”
“Like hell,” said Iain. “You go out there alone, without any powers, and you’ll be eaten before sunrise.”
“Joseph promised,” she said, then looked at Joseph. “Didn’t you?”
His face contorted with frustration and he glared at her. “You tricked me.”
“You should have done a better job with the fine print.”
“You can never have a normal life,” he told her.
She flinched, feeling the blow of his words all the way to her toes. “I can, and I will.”
“He’s right,” said Helen. “Please, just think this through.”
She had to get out of here. This place was killing her with all the expectations and pressure. “I’ve spent weeks thinking about it. All I want is for my life to go back to something resembling the way it used to be. I want a job, a career, a home.” A family. Baby Samson had given her a taste of something she’d never thought she’d want, but now she did. But there was no way she was going to raise a child in this place. Her child would have a normal life.
“It’s not safe,” said Helen, her tone gentle.
Jackie looked at Joseph. “You promised. Tell them.”
His lip lifted in a sneer of frustration and anger. “She’s right. I promised her she could leave if she chose a man. She’s done her part, and despite the fact that it’s stupid, reckless, and insane, we have to let her go.”
“I don’t,” said Iain, his gaze fixed firmly on her. “I made no promise.”
“You wouldn’t,” said Jackie.
“Do I look like a man who jokes around? If you go, I go, too. Like it or not, you picked me. Now you’re stuck with me.”
“I won’t ever put on your necklace.”
He shrugged. “Fine. Don’t. I’m still not letting you die out there. I gave you my vow, and I intend to uphold it.”
Kind and gentle were not words she’d use to describe Iain. She’d picked him because he was cold—because he seemed to have no expectations of her—but now she was beginning to see the error in her decision. That coldness wasn’t going to gain her any favors or understanding. The best she could hope for now was that eventually he’d figure out she wasn’t worth the effort, and go find some other woman.
“Fine,” she snapped. She went to where her suitcase was standing and raised the handle to wheel it out. “But I’m already packed and ready to go, and I’m not waiting.”
Iain took the handle from her grasp. His fingers grazed hers, and the result of his touch was immediate. A string of bubbles slid through her veins and burst into pinpoints of warmth. It felt shockingly good, startling her with the force of it. She had to fight the urge to simply close her eyes and enjoy the sensation, letting it fill her up. It made her forget all about the chill of the caves and the things she’d endured. Her entire focus was on the small patch of her skin that made contact with his.
It wasn’t right. It wasn’t even real. She had to remember that and not let whatever magic he possessed sway her from her path.
Jackie jerked her hand away, already regretting the loss of contact.
His body clenched tight, like he’d just taken a punch, but he continued to stare at her without blinking.
Jackie rubbed her skin in an effort to rid herself of his touch. She didn’t want to feel anything magical, no matter how good it may have been. All she wanted was for everyone to keep their hands to themselves.
Joseph opened his mouth, but Helen grabbed his arm, stopping him before he could speak. She leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Joseph nodded, then stared at Jackie in speculation.
“We’ll see you when you get back,” said Joseph.
“What was that about?” she asked, looking at her half sister.
“Nothing,” said Helen. “You two go do what you need to do. You’ll always have a place here if and when you want it.”
Jackie wasn’t sure what they were up to, but she doubted she’d like it if she knew. “I don’t plan on coming back.”
“I know,” said Helen. “But I hope you change your mind. I’ll miss you while you’re gone.”
Jackie couldn’t bear any emotional farewells. Helen was her sister by blood, but that was all. They didn’t know each other. They had no connection, no shared history. All they had was a similar affliction—a magical disease that drew these men to them—one Jackie hoped she could either find a cure for or come to live with eventually.
“Where will you go?” asked Joseph.
“South,” she lied. “Florida, maybe.”
Beside her, Iain grunted his disbelief. “Daylight’s burning. If you’re serious about leaving, we need to put some miles behind us before dark.”
&nb
sp; Jackie looked at Helen, seeing her hazel eyes fill up with tears. “I’m sorry I can’t be what you want—what any of you want.”
“I don’t want you to be anything but happy,” said Helen.
Jackie wasn’t setting her sights nearly that high. She’d be satisfied with simply being free.
Tori pulled the hood up over her head, shoved stolen sunglasses on her face, and walked through the halls of Dabyr as if she belonged there. She kept her head down, looking at no one while she made her escape.
She heard voices of children as she passed through the large open dining and recreation area. The smell of coffee—something that reminded her of her dead mother—filled her nose, giving her a pang of grief. Mama had been gone a long time now. The demons had killed and eaten her when Tori was eight—the night she’d been stolen by monsters and her old life had ended.
Light seeping in under the glasses burned her eyes. Or maybe it was tears. She couldn’t tell. It was too bright there for her. All those years underground had made her eyes sensitive. Sadly, these people were so blind they needed to light this place up like the surface of the sun just to see their own feet.
It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be there long. She only had to tolerate the light for as long as it took to get to her sister Andra’s car. The sun was setting. It would be dark soon, and the searing behind her eyes would ease.
Zillah—the Synestryn lord who’d caged and tortured her for years—was asleep now, hiding like a coward, but she could still feel him coursing through her veins, laughing at her with every beat of her heart. He was weak now. Nearby. She could find him and capture him before anyone even realized she was gone.
The bag on her shoulder was heavy, slowing her progress toward the garage. Over the last few weeks, she’d collected everything she’d need, gathering up knives, rope, matches, and other tools she could use to turn Zillah’s life into the living hell he’d made of hers. She’d spent a lot of time thinking about just how she was going to torture him before she let him die. Finding him, making him pay, was all that mattered.
Pain was not enough. She had to cause him fear, too. Oceans of it—as much as he had caused her and the others during her childhood. Since her rescue, she’d spent nearly every waking moment thinking up different ways to make him scream. She didn’t just want him to hurt—she wanted him destroyed, broken, and begging for his life. Then and only then, after his last scream’s echo had died out, would she be able to rest. Finally. He’d leave her dreams and never return. She’d truly be free of him.
Capturing Zillah was going to be hard, but she knew he and his guards were weaker during the day—trapped underground, away from the sun. She could sneak into his caves unnoticed. After all the years of him forcing her to take his blood, shoving it into her veins, making her drink it, she even smelled like one of them. Tynan had said so to Logan when they’d thought she was sleeping.
At first she’d tried to scrub herself clean, but no matter how many times she washed, no matter how many cleaners she used on her skin, the stench was still there, seeping out of her pores.
Now she realized it for the gift it was. Who else could sneak into a Synestryn cave without being detected?
Zillah probably hadn’t realized what he’d done, and now it was going to come back to haunt him.
A slow smile of excitement pulled at her mouth as she hurried her pace. Tynan would come to see her as soon as he woke up, and she had to be long gone before then.
No matter how hard he’d tried, no matter how many times he’d come to her with soft words and kind eyes, all his efforts to clean her blood had failed. She’d left him weak and shaking, his mouth blistered from her blood.
She was one of them—one of the monsters. A Synestryn. Their blood was inside of her, burning her veins and calling her back to them.
Part of her wanted to answer that call.
Tori turned the last corner and nearly ran into one of the Theronai. Fear lurched into her chest, and she started to turn and run, her instincts screaming at her to flee. Before she took even one step, he moved to block her path.
“Whoa,” he said. “Slow down there.”
Words lodged in her throat. Her heart was pounding fast, and she heard herself panting. By now she should have been better at hiding her fear, but he’d surprised her, and she couldn’t seem to keep control of herself since coming there. These people were all too nice. She wasn’t used to it, and it left her confused and suspicious. At any moment, she knew they’d turn on her, and she was sick of waiting for it to happen.
She looked up and saw scars crisscrossing the man’s face. He was trying to smile at her, but it pulled his skin, twisting his mouth. He had bright blue eyes and hair the same dark blond as Andra’s husband’s.
“Where were you going so fast?” he asked, his voice quiet and gentle as if he was trying not to scare her.
“I was just getting some exercise.”
He pulled a phone out of his pocket and started playing with it, his thick fingers flying fast. He watched her and not what he was doing. “The only thing down this hall is the garage. You wouldn’t be trying to sneak out, would you?”
He’d caught her. She was cornered. Trapped. Panic raked her skin and she realized there was only one thing she could do to escape.
Tori moved fast, giving him no time to react. She pulled a steak knife from her bag and stabbed it into his chest.
Nicholas stared down in disbelief at the knife buried in his chest. Pain radiated out from the wound, but it was nothing compared to the pain he endured every day as his power grew. Nothing compared to the betrayal he felt.
Tori had stabbed him. All he’d wanted to do was stop her from leaving and getting herself hurt or killed. Hell, he hadn’t even touched her, despite his urge to see if she was the one who could save his life.
Jackie sure as hell hadn’t wanted him. Not that he blamed her.
Tori’s small hand was still wrapped around the wooden handle of the knife. When he felt her tug on it, likely to pull it out and stab him again, he covered her hand with both of his, holding the knife in place.
The pain his growing power caused seem to dull. The edges rounded, and the bulging pressure behind his eyes eased. Everything within him went still and quiet—even his heart stopped for a few, timeless seconds.
Tori was compatible with his power. She could save him.
He hadn’t been this close to her before, but now that he was looking at her, he realized she was just a child. A feral, deranged child.
Her blue eyes went wide with shock, and then a rabid snarl contorted her face and a low growl of warning spilled from her lips.
In that moment, he realized that her compatibility didn’t matter. He couldn’t ask anything of her. He’d been there the night she’d been rescued. He knew what she’d gone through. It wasn’t fair to ask her to do anything more than heal and grow strong.
Nicholas ignored the pointless surge of hope, shoved aside the pain of his wound, and showed no weakness. His tone took on the same disappointed, lecturing quality his father had used on him too many times when he was a child. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You don’t go around stabbing people like that.”
She tried to pull her hand away, and it wiggled the knife, burning like fire. Her lips pulled back, baring her teeth. “Let me go!”
“Not a chance. You’re staying right here until Andra shows up.”
“She thinks I’m sleeping. I snuck out while she was in bed with Paul.”
“Sorry to break it to you, kiddo, but I texted her. In fact…”
The heavy beat of footsteps came pounding down the hall. Andra raced around the corner, her face pink and her shirt on inside out. Paul was only a couple of steps behind her, and he was shirtless and barefoot.
Tori let out a scream of frustrated outrage.
“Thanks for coming,” said Nicholas. “Now that you’re here to deal with her, I can have this knife removed. I suggest you figure out something
to do with her before she hurts someone for real next time.”
He didn’t wait around to see how Andra dealt with her deranged sister. It was none of his business. As much as he wished otherwise, as much as he would have gladly altered his life to help Tori heal, all he could offer her was the added burden of saving his life.
It was just as well. She was too young for him to think of her as anything but a child, and she was too unstable for any kind of relationship, even if he could overlook her age. It didn’t matter how patient or gentle he would be if he didn’t live long enough to help her. Tori was obviously the kind of girl who would stab a man in his sleep. The Synestryn had turned her into that, robbing her of the life she could have had.
He hoped that Andra figured out something soon. Tori was a danger to herself and others, and unless they wanted people to get hurt, they were going to have to lock her up. She’d spent her childhood imprisoned by Synestryn, being tortured and fed their blood. He didn’t think captivity was going to sit well with her.
Just the thought made him sick.
She could be his. In a few years. When she was older and had healed.
He wasn’t sure he had that much time left. His lifemark was dying. The rate at which his leaves were falling had increased recently. There was no way to know how much time he had left, but he was fairly sure it wouldn’t be enough for Tori to truly heal.
Pain throbbed in Nicholas’s bones. It was worse now than it had been only a few minutes ago. He could barely even feel the knife sticking out of him. Putting one foot in front of another took all his concentration. He wanted to run back to her so she could make the pain stop.
What if he couldn’t control himself as his pain grew? What if he forced her to make it stop?
Nicholas had seen what happened to his brothers as they reached the end of their lives. They became darker, angry and desperate. He’d seen good men do bad things. What if he did the same with Tori?
There was only one thing he could think to do—only one way to keep her safe from himself.
As soon as Tynan was done healing his stab wound, he was going to bargain with the Sanguinar—give him anything he asked for—to have his memory of the last few minutes removed. If he didn’t know Tori could save him, she’d be safe. It was the only way he could be sure.
Dying Wish: A Novel of the Sentinel Wars Page 5