“I was there. Know all about it.”
Neal hunkered down, his eyes lighting with interest. “You’ve met her?”
“Yep.”
“So are you going to donate blood?”
“Not my woman. Not my problem.”
Neal made a sound of disgust. “Selfish bastard. Just because she’s not yours doesn’t mean you shouldn’t help.”
“Sure it does.” His arms started to shake under the strain of the weight. His muscles burned and he pulled in some air to fuel them.
“She may not be compatible with me, either, but I’m going to donate.”
“Good for you. Better for the leeches,” said Madoc.
This blood order reminded him way too much of the way it had been with Torr. Nearly every man here had bled into Tynan, and it still hadn’t been enough to save Torr. Poor bastard was still alive, but locked inside his useless body, trapped and unable to get out.
Madoc would have rather died.
What if that was what happened to Nika? What if they weren’t able to save her?
Fuck.
“Better for the woman,” responded Neal. “How can you live with yourself, man? Don’t you care about anyone but yourself?”
“Nope.”
Madoc racked the bar and pushed himself to his feet. He couldn’t sit around and do nothing. He had to get out of here before he went crazy. Go find a hooker. Get laid. Maybe hunt down some nasties.
“You’re an embarrassment,” said Neal. “We took vows to protect others even if it cost our lives. Donating blood doesn’t even hurt.”
Madoc’s tank top hid the fact that his lifemark was mostly bare. The Band had inked him with a couple of fake leaves that were good enough to fool anyone not looking too closely, but Madoc didn’t trust Neal not to look. Nothing got by that man. If he’d known Madoc was out of time, he would have him shipped off to the Slayers before dawn. Game over.
“I’m not letting any f**king bloodsuckers in my head,” said Madoc.
“Even if it means the woman dies?”
“She’s not going to die.” Madoc grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his body. He was tired of being in public, tired of pretending he was still one of them.
“You don’t know that, but I hope you’re right. For your sake as well as hers. That kind of guilt is a heavy load.”
What if Neal was right? What if they didn’t get enough blood for her? Most of the men were out hunting for their own women and hardly anyone was home. It could take days for them all to return. Days Nika didn’t have.
Fuck.
He couldn’t let that happen. Not to Nika.
He stomped away from Neal and called Nicholas on his cell.
Nicholas’s surprised voice came over the line. “Madoc. You never call. You never write. I was starting to think you didn’t care.”
“Fuck the small talk. Where’s Tynan?”
“Sounds serious. Hold on,” said Nicholas. There was some typing in the background; then the head of security came back on the line. “He’s headed from the dining hall toward the Sanguinar wing.”
“Can you stop him?”
“Sure. I’ll lock the doors, but why—”
Madoc hung up and broke into a jog. People looked at him funny as he sped by, but he didn’t give a shit.
Tynan was pushing on the locked door when Madoc found him. The leech turned around and his icy eyes went wide with fear.
Good. That was going to make this easier.
Madoc scanned the walls for the security camera, found it, and ripped it down. Bits of plastic crumbled inside his fist and he dropped the broken mess to the tile floor.
“Madoc,” said Tynan. He held his hands up in front of him. “What are you doing?”
“She’s dying, isn’t she?”
Tynan blinked for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected the question, and it took him a second to catch up. “Nika?”
“Yes. Nika.”
“I’m going to do everything for her I can.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
Tynan’s eyes moved around as if looking for an escape. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid she is.”
“Can you fix her?”
“I don’t yet know. I still have to do some research and see if this kind of thing has ever happened before. And there’s always an issue of having the strength to help her even if I do find out how.”
Madoc prowled closer and lowered his voice so no one else could hear. “Take mine.”
Tynan pressed himself harder against the door, as if trying to get away. “What?”
Madoc held out his arm. “Take my blood. Use it to save her.”
The Sanguinar’s eyes flared with hunger. “You’ve never before given your blood to any of us.”
“I f**king know that. Do you want it or not?” Madoc bobbed his thick arm in front of the leech.
“Yes.” It was an eerie, hissing sound that gave Madoc second thoughts for a split second. He knew he was going to regret this—he just didn’t care.
“How much?” asked Tynan, licking his lips.
“Whatever you need to save her.” Madoc wasn’t going to last much longer anyway at this rate. He might as well do something decent with his blood.
Tentatively, Tynan wrapped his slim fingers around Madoc’s arm and brought his wrist to his mouth. Madoc had expected it to hurt, but his life had been all about pain for so long, a couple of fang pricks didn’t even register. All he felt was a strong tugging motion against his skin, and even that started to fade away within moments.
Slowly, a hazy kind of weakness filled Madoc’s limbs. It didn’t bother him or worry him, but he knew it wasn’t right. His body grew heavy, and he decided it was a good idea to sit down. Tynan seemed stronger than normal and had no trouble easing him to the floor without breaking his hold on Madoc’s arm.
Buzzing filled his head and his eyes grew heavy. He really needed a nap and wished to hell he could go curl himself around Nika so no one could get to her.
The odd thought was gone as quickly as it came. Madoc didn’t have the strength to walk right now, anyway. Not that he cared. He didn’t care about a f**king thing.
Tynan felt as if he were flying. For the first time in decades he wasn’t starving. Wasn’t cold. Power roared through his veins, a heady mixture of strength and invincibility. Madoc’s blood was pure. No one else had ever partaken of his vast power, which had only grown over the centuries. Tynan had never tasted anything like it, and probably never would again.
What he’d drunk from Madoc was enough to fuel his body for decades if he limited the amount of magic he used. Too bad he couldn’t keep all that giddy power for himself. He had to share.
Nika wasn’t the only one in need. Selfishness was not an option if his kind were to survive. Threescore Sanguinar occupied the sleeping chamber in the depths of the compound, and spread out among them, the blood he could spare and still aid Nika would last for only a few months at best. But at least that was a few more months than they had now.
Tynan slammed the locked doors open with a scream of shredding metal, leaving Madoc slumped in the hall behind him. Since the security camera had been disabled, Tynan was sure that Nicholas would be coming along any moment to see what had happened to his precious technology. Madoc’s brothers would see to his care.
Tynan wondered if they knew what Madoc was hiding from all of them—that his soul had begun to die.
He briefly thought about telling them, but it was none of his affair and he didn’t want to let on just how much he could learn about a person when he drank from them. It would only scare off the others when their time grew short.
Besides, Tynan had plenty of his own secrets to keep, including the fact that the blood Madoc had offered could only partly be used to save the girl. He had more important plans for the rest of that power.
Tynan descended to the lowest level of the south wing, down four flights of stairs, past six layers of security that ensured that only those of his kind could pass. There was currently peace between them and the Theronai, but it had not always been so. The Sanguinar were too vulnerable when they slept. It would be too easy to wipe them out if another war broke out. Secrecy and their usefulness in healing were the only protection they had, and they used both to the best advantage possible.
He pulled open the heavy steel door that had usually wrenched at his arms, but today he needed merely a slight push to send it flying open. It hit the stone wall with a metallic boom, startling the Sanguinar who stood guard over those who slept.
Connal shot to his feet, hiding the book he’d been reading behind his back. He was fairly short for one of their kind, but more muscular. It was as if the lack of blood had not hampered his body’s strength. Connal had grass green eyes set in a babyish face that even three centuries could not age. The Sanguinar looked perpetually eighteen and was typically treated with the same level of respect.
“You startled me,” said Connal.
“Catching up on your reading?” asked Tynan.
“I borrowed it from Briant.”
Tynan wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Tell me it’s not one of his erotic vampire novels.”
Connal’s boyish face darkened. “He said it was one of the best. I just thought I’d try it.”
Tynan shook his head. “You should stick with the classics. That stuff will rot your mind.”
“Hasn’t hurt Briant. That man’s smarter than all of the rest of us put together.” Connal marked his place in the book and set it aside. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I’ve come to feed the others.”
Connal’s eyes darkened with hunger and excitement. “The new girl? She’s blooded?”
Tynan decided to keep the true source of his power to himself. “Very, but I suggest you keep your distance. Her Theronai is quite . . . protective.”
“He can’t be everywhere at once. I’ll find her alone and—”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort. You’ll leave the girl alone.” Tynan imbued his words with a hint of his newly acquired power, forcing Connal to listen and obey.
Connal gave him a quick nod.
Tynan went to the end of one long wall. Enclosed in that wall were dozens of sleeping Sanguinar. They would stay in their magically enhanced sleep for fifty years before waking. It was the only way the dwindling food supply would hold out. Each year more Sanguinar went to sleep and fewer woke. Even in sleep, some of them died of starvation. Without more food—more powerful blood—there was little anyone could do.
Tynan pushed on a section of wall and it opened to reveal a small stone bowl. At the bottom of the bowl was a hole that led to a series of tubes that fed each of the sleeping Sanguinar. It didn’t take much blood to keep them alive, but they had to have some, and it had been almost two months since their last feeding.
At least in sleep they didn’t feel hunger. Tynan wished he could say the same.
He held his wrist over the bowl and willed his flesh to open. Dark red blood trickled from the small wound into the bowl. With every drop that spilled, Tynan felt his power dwindle. Before he was too weak, he willed his flesh closed and licked the remaining blood from his wrist. He couldn’t waste a drop.