Ronan glanced at Justice. She was as tough and fierce as any woman ever born, but even she was also vulnerable. The idea of something happening to her made him want to bare his fangs at the world to keep it away from the woman he loved.
He found it strange how love changed things so fast, how his entire world had been altered by the presence of another person. There was magic in love, but it was a fragile kind of magic—one too easily destroyed by the choices of others.
“What do I need to do?” Andra finally asked.
Sibyl’s gaze was hard and unwavering. “Your job. Protect the gate. We’re going to need it soon.”
The gate was a portal accessed through a series of magically enhanced stones put here eons ago. These Sentinel stones were the only way in or out of Athanasia, which was the world that was the source of all magic. Centuries ago the gate had been shut by the ruler of Athanasia—or so everyone had thought. It was only cracked open now, but that crack was enough to let in the dark things that thrived on the blood of those who lived there.
The Sentinels had been created to guard the gate and keep out those nasty creatures. It was why they existed—their sole purpose. At some point, the gate had been shut, leaving the Sentinels here to fend for themselves without the guidance of those who’d created them.
“Why will we need the gate?” Ronan asked.
Sibyl shook her head. “I don’t know. All I know is that we will. Soon. If Dabyr falls, the Sentinel stones will be stolen. If we lose them, we lose everything. They must be protected at all costs.”
“We’re still finding those stones spread across the country,” Ronan said. “Logan found one in downtown Kansas City not long ago.”
“The other stones must be located, along with the women—the Theronai.” Sibyl looked at Jackie now, but it was unclear if she could see. Her eyes were still wide and darting, haunted. “You must find the women before it’s too late. Without them, we all die.”
Iain spoke for his wife. “She’s doing all she can, Sibyl. Don’t push her.”
“Now is exactly when she must be pushed,” Sibyl said. “While the power of her child fuels her, while her gift is the strongest.”
“How?” Jackie asked.
Sibyl frowned and shook her head. Uncertainty crossed her dainty features, making her look much like the child she’d once been. “What I’ve seen can’t help you.”
“What is it?” Iain demanded as he rose to his feet. “What have you seen?”
The seer held her ground, refusing to be cowed by the man’s massive size. She lifted her chin and warned him, “It won’t help.”
“What. Have. You. Seen?”
“Pain,” she said finally, her voice quiet.
Iain deflated. He let out a long breath and removed his hand from his sword. “You’re right. That doesn’t help.”
There was no satisfaction in Sibyl’s expression. “We all have our role to play. Yours is no easier than mine. I’m sorry for that.”
Andra shifted her chair away from the table. “So, you’ve seen what I need to do?” she asked. “I need to go to Dabyr?”
“Yes.”
“What about the baby?” Paul asked.
“His life is tied to Dabyr as strongly as all of ours is. Without it, none of us will survive.”
Paul and Andra shared another meaningful look. After a moment, they both seemed to be in agreement.
“When should we go?” Paul asked.
“Sunrise,” Sibyl said. “Your passage will be safer.”
“And me?” Jackie asked. “When should I start trying to find those women?”
“Now,” Sibyl said. “You must hurry. For some of them it is already too late.”
Chapter Eleven
Three hours later, Morgan pulled in front of a little brick house just south of the Oklahoma-Texas border.
It was a modest structure with low ceilings and few windows—the kind of house a young family might buy when they started a family, or an older couple downsizing after the kids were grown. The warm, red brick was solid and impervious to the Texas heat and spring storms. The yard had minimal landscaping—just a narrow band of shrubs and mulch around the foundation.
Like many gerai houses, there wasn’t much around. These places were often used for emergencies which included plenty of blood. Nosy neighbors wouldn’t understand how people could go in bleeding and come out whole without any kind of standard medical intervention. Not only that, but wherever there were Sentinels, there were demons. It was best to stay as far away from populated areas as possible.
And this place was definitely that. There were no houses in sight, just a vast swath of rural pasture with a few cows grazing in the distance.
Briant’s van sat in the driveway. Inside the little house, the lights were on behind gingham curtains. The single attached garage door was open. The Sanguinar stood next to it, waving them inside.
“Where are we?” Serena asked, her voice weaker now than it had been a little while ago.
The bleeding had stopped, but only because of the tourniquet. Once he let go of the belt, all bets were off.
“It’s a gerai house,” he said. “Lexi warded it recently, so with any luck, the smell of our blood will stay contained.”
Lexi was one of the new female Theronai that had been discovered recently. She was bound to Zach, a kick-ass warrior who Morgan had always respected. The couple had been overseas helping rebuild another fallen Sentinel stronghold. They’d only returned from Africa when Dabyr fell to bring with them the lessons they’d learned there.
Lexi was gifted with the ability to magically fortify structures against attack and protect those inside from being detected. Too bad there had been no power great enough to stop a flood of demons from overrunning Dabyr’s walls, even after Lexi had repaired them once.
As soon as Morgan pulled his truck inside the garage, Briant hit the button to lower the door.
Morgan waited until they were closed inside the dim confines before he dared to open his window. When he did, it was only a scant quarter inch. “Is the garage warded?” he asked Briant.
The man was tall, with a lean, ropey build. His hair was dark brown and his eyes a pale, glowing green. As soon as he smelled their blood, light flared in his eyes and fell on them like a laser beam.
Like all Sanguinar, he was beautiful, with features so symmetrical, he looked like an artistic rendering, too perfect to be real. Also, like all Sanguinar, his hunger was evident in every word he said and every look he gave them.
Theronai blood was food to the Sanguinar, as well as fuel for their magic. And while Morgan wasn’t the kind of asshole who begrudged them the blood they couldn’t help but need, he also didn’t trust them. At least not when Serena’s life was at stake.
When a Sanguinar took a man’s blood, it bound them to him. He could see their thoughts, even alter them if he chose. And from that moment on, he’d always be able to find them.
Morgan had long ago accepted the price for healing and tried not to dwell on the downside. There were too many other things to worry about than what an ally might or might not do when healing him. They were all fighting the same war, on the same side. He chose to trust the Sanguinar would act accordingly.
Briant’s voice was soft and musical, with a hint of desperation. “I believe Lexi was thorough. If not, we won’t have to wait long to find out. The smell of blood is nearly overpowering.”
“Sorry about that,” Serena said. “It’s mostly mine.”
“I am aware,” Briant said as he came around to her side of the truck and opened the door. Light from his eyes splashed against her wound, highlighting it in gruesome display.
He touched her temple for a moment, to assess the damage, then met Morgan’s gaze. “Whatever you do, do not let go of that belt.”
Morgan nodded.
Serena’s head fell back on the seat in exhaustion. “Is it truly that bad?”
“Possibly worse,” Briant confirmed. “I don’t unde
rstand why you’re still alive, much less able to speak.” Again, he looked to Morgan. “I’ll need blood to heal her.”
“I figured as much. I’ll give you what you need.”
Serena bristled. “I don’t want anyone paying my debts. I will pay my own blood price.”
“Sorry,” Morgan said, “but you’re broke, honey. And there’s no time to argue.”
“We don’t dare move her until the worst of the damage is mended,” Briant said.
He walked around the truck to Morgan’s side, and opened the door.
He lifted his wrist to the Sanguinar, willingly offering his blood. “Don’t leave me too weak to fight. That’s all I ask.”
Briant nodded his agreement. “Do you have a firm grip on the belt?”
“I do.”
“I’ll try not to hurt you more than necessary.” His green eyes were glowing brighter now, eerily similar to those of the demons hunting them.
“Don’t worry about masking the pain,” Morgan said. “I can take it. No sense in wasting your energy.”
“Very well.”
Briant lifted Morgan’s wrist to his pretty mouth and bit deep. His bony grip tightened until those fingers were an unbreakable shackle.
Morgan ignored the pain and the sucking sensation. He ignored the slight feeling of invasion and focused completely on holding the belt tight.
Strength fled his body at an alarming rate, but he didn’t fight it. There was no choice but to trust Briant to take only what he needed to keep Serena alive.
Her gaze met Morgan’s, and what he saw there startled him.
She was all spines and acid, shoving him away every chance she got. But now, with his life’s energy draining from his body in an effort to save her, all he saw in her expression was relief and gratitude.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’ll find some way to repay you.”
Take my luceria, is what he wanted to say, but didn’t.
He might have saved her life, but that didn’t mean it belonged to him. If she was to tie herself to him, he wanted it to be of her own free will. It was the only way they could ever be true partners. He knew better than to believe that theirs would be some kind of fairytale romance, but at least they could respect each other.
And that started with giving her the freedom to choose her own path, even if that meant bonding to Link, some other Theronai she was compatible with, or no one at all.
He prayed she’d pick someone, because not only was it the only way to keep her safe, but it was also the only way she could take her rightful place among their people as a warrior.
With the way the war was going, they needed every warrior they could get.
***
Briant was in no mood to be gentle.
He’d spent every day for the past two weeks healing the injured. Most of them were humans, with weak blood that did little to fuel his efforts.
Since Dabyr had been compromised, wave after wave of demons had pushed through the Sentinels’ meager defenses, leaving both dead and injured in their wake. Joseph had managed to relocate the most vulnerable residents—humans, Theronai and Slayers too injured to fight, and Sanguinar in a deep, magically-induced sleep—to a series of warehouses stocked with food, water and supplies. These places had been magically warded against detection, but they were still high-risk targets.
Theronai and Slayers had been positioned at each location to protect those inside, and the few Sanguinar still strong enough to heal had been dispatched to deal with any injuries before the scent of blood could draw their enemy to them.
But it wasn’t enough. There weren’t enough warriors or healers to go around.
Even now, Briant was risking the lives of over seventy souls he was ordered to protect to come here and save Serena. If not for the fact that she was a female Theronai capable of turning the tide of war, he never would have taken the risk.
But she was too important to lose. Tynan—the Sanguinar who led their kind—had been clear about that. There were so few women like her, they couldn’t afford to lose even one, no matter how hungry or weak he was.
Briant was so tired that he hadn’t bothered to take more than a cursory peek inside the Morgan’s head as he took his blood. It was the custom of the Sanguinar to do a mental inspection of those they healed to make sure that all was well. The strain of battle often wore down the warriors, and on rare occasions, the Sanguinar were able to uncover and solve problems before they grew too large to handle.
The souls of the Theronai were at risk. As they aged, as the strain of the energy they carried became too great, they lost small pieces of themselves. And once those pieces were all gone, their souls began to decay. They became dark, dangerous creatures.
All of them knew their fate. Some of them hid how close to it they were. It was Briant’s job to make sure that the men he healed weren’t hiding any ticking time bombs that could risk the lives of hundreds if they exploded.
In Morgan’s case, he was stable. His lifemark was nearly bare, but he still had some time. The most interesting thing Briant saw was his attraction to Serena.
The only thoughts rattling around Morgan’s skull at the moment were of Serena’s safety.
The two were compatible. That much was displayed prominently at the forefront of Morgan’s mind. He wanted her, both as a partner and a lover.
Which surprised Morgan.
And that surprised Briant.
Morgan was known to be a flirt, a womanizer. But now that Briant was in his head, he could see how wrong that assumption was.
Morgan played the part, but that was all. He hadn’t slept with a woman in a long, long time.
The image of an Egyptian woman’s face appeared in Morgan’s mind, and with it was a deep sense of love and devotion.
Briant had no idea who this woman was, but if she was getting in the way of Morgan claiming Serena and bringing more strongly blooded children into the world, then it was Briant’s duty to fix it.
There had been a time when he would have felt guilty for meddling in the affairs of his allies, but that time had long passed.
His Sanguinar brothers and sisters were dying. Starving slowly. They withered away as their bodies consumed themselves in search of even a faint flicker of power. And those who slept were even worse, near corpses.
He didn’t know how many of his kind still slept, choosing oblivion to starvation, but he knew that if nothing changed, none of them would survive. Those that hadn’t died in the attack against Dabyr had been moved, but they were vulnerable to attack.
So, Briant did what any good soldier would do given the chance. He infiltrated Morgan’s thoughts and planted a compulsion to make Serena his in every way possible. And as soon as Briant got his hands on Serena, he’d do the same with her.
If his work was solid—if he expended the precious energy it would take to sway them toward their duty—it would only be a matter of time before the two created a new life that would eventually be strong enough to feed his kind.
Briant grinned with satisfaction. One more win for Project Lullaby.
Chapter Twelve
Serena suffered through the Sanguinar healing without complaint.
Briant didn’t have enough spare power to mute the pain of healing, so every ache and twinge she would have normally felt healing naturally over the span of several days was shoved into a few, brutal, agonizing seconds.
She clenched her jaw to keep from screaming, but sweat still poured down her temples from the strain. By the time he was done, she was shaking and nauseated.
Briant sagged as he sat back on his heels. He crouched outside the truck, in the dimly lit garage, leaning heavily against the open door.
She was in no shape to walk, and now, neither was he.
Once her breathing evened out, she felt much better. She was tired and starving, but that unnatural flutter of her heart that had scared her so much had passed.
“Are you okay?” she asked the Sanguinar.
His melodic voice trembled with fatigue. “As well as can be expected. I have no idea how you’re still alive. A cut that deep on anyone else would have been fatal.”
“I slowed time around the wound,” she said, before she could think better of airing her secret.
“You what?” Morgan asked. He was beside her, still gripping that belt tight around her thigh as if her life depended on it. “Is that how we got out of the cave? Why those demons seemed to be moving in slow motion?”
Serena nodded. Her secret was out. No sense in being childish about it and lying.
Briant stared at her in speculation, his green eyes now dull, rather than bright and glowing. “That makes sense. I remember hearing about another female Theronai who could manipulate time that way—speeding it or slowing it in a small space.”
Serena kept her gaze on the garage wall, on the shelf of old paint cans and rusting tools, refusing to look at either man. “My mother. Gertrude Brinn. That’s how she caged me—trapping me in a place time could not touch. If not for the Athanasian woman, Brenya, freeing me, I might have spent eternity there.”
And when she’d eventually gone mad from loneliness and boredom, she would have stayed trapped there until time ended, with no way to end her own suffering.
Silence filled the garage. No one spoke.
Serena squirmed in her seat, regretting her mistake to reveal herself to these men. She didn’t know them, not really. She shouldn’t have said anything at all.
Then why had she?
Perhaps she was simply too exhausted to filter herself. Or perhaps the effects of Briant’s healing had left her tongue looser than usual.
“I need to go,” Briant said, finally breaking the silence.
“Stay. Let me rest and hydrate for a few hours,” Morgan said. “Then you can feed from me again.”
Briant shook his head. “I have to leave. There’s no time to rest. Lives are in danger.”
“You’re in no shape to drive.”
“The only hope those people in my care have is for me to return to my post. But you two should stay the night here. Talk. Work out your differences. Both of you still have secrets to share so that you can bond properly.”
Saving Daylight Page 10