“I’m not in the mood for another disappointment, so forgive me if I don’t buy into the shit you’re selling. She’s not mine.” Saying the words aloud made his chest burn.
Logan merely smiled. “I think you may be wrong.”
“I’m not.” Paul refused to let himself feel even the slightest stirring of hope. He was out of time and he was going to be a good sport and take his defeat like a man. He’d had more chances than most.
Paul shut Andra’s door and went in search of some food, herding Logan along with him so he wouldn’t be tempted to go into Andra’s room.
Her apartment was small, with the kitchen, living, and dining areas crammed on top of one another. The place looked like it hadn’t been dusted in months, except for the gleam of the heavy-duty weight bench that filled what should have been the dining room.
The open layout gave him a clear view of the whole space, including the kitchen, which needed a thorough scrubbing.
Madoc had beaten him to the hunt for food, and was already rummaging through her cabinets and fridge. From the meager offerings on the counter—a couple cans of soup and some questionable lunch meat—he hadn’t found much.
Logan was still lurking behind him. Paul saw his sword, still stained with Andra’s blood, and picked it up.
“She’s almost certainly a Theronai,” said Logan.
“I kinda guessed that part.”
Paul wet a paper towel and cleaned his sword, then flushed the towel down the toilet, where the scent of blood couldn’t draw any trouble. They were fairly safe during the day, but he wasn’t taking any chances with Andra asleep in the next room.
Logan was right on his heels. “What makes you think she isn’t yours?”
“My ring doesn’t respond to her like it should. No color.”
“Yet.”
Paul sheathed his weapon before he decided to use it on Logan, and spun around. They stood eye-to-eye, but there was something different about him now. Something Paul couldn’t place. It was like Logan knew a secret he wasn’t willing to share.
“Stop already and back the hell off. I’m out of time, and that’s that.”
“You want to go find a nest tonight?” asked Madoc, completely serious. “I’ll stand witness for you.”
Witness to Paul’s last heroic act. It was a dangerous offer for Madoc to make—one that might get him killed. Paul would wade into a nest of Synestryn, knowing it would be the last thing he did, and Madoc would stand by close to the action, Paul’s sword safely in his keeping to take back to the Hall of the Fallen.
Paul wasn’t going to like using a different sword, but he couldn’t afford to let his be taken, and it wasn’t as if he were ever going to make it out alive, anyway. The point was to take out as many demons as he could before they took him down.
“Thanks, man. I’m going to take you up on that offer, but I have to get Andra back to Sibyl first. I promised.”
Madoc nodded and started pawing through Andra’s freezer, unfazed by the talk of suicide.
“Go kill yourself if you like,” said Logan, “but I’m telling you you’re wrong about her.”
Paul was going to regret asking, but he did anyway. “What makes you think that?”
“She felt something when you touched her.”
A spark of hope lit inside him, so fragile and faint he could barely feel it. “She did?”
“Yes.”
“But I didn’t. There was no pain. No . . . nothing.”
Logan shrugged. “I’ve been trying to tell you that your experience may be different from Drake’s. We don’t even know how these women exist. There’s no way we can predict what kind of reaction they’ll cause—not after so many years of waiting.”
“But I thought you Sanguinar all got together after Drake found Helen and decided that his pain was due to the time he’s had to carry his power. I’ve been hauling mine around for just as long, but it didn’t hurt when she broke contact.”
“It hurt her. In a way.”
Paul felt a sickening twist of guilt in his gut. “I hurt her?”
“Not exactly. Let’s just say she felt a lot better when you were touching her.”
He’d turned her on. That much was clear. She’d been ready to let him take her. Maybe that was what Logan meant.
“Now you’re catching on,” said Logan.
“What else did you see?” Paul demanded. That flicker of hope was growing, and as foolish as it was, he was letting it. He wanted to know everything about her so that maybe this time things would be different. Not like Kate.
“Not much. She was too weak for me to spend much time inside her mind. I sensed that she’s not entirely what she seems. She’s been through tragedy.”
Never again. He didn’t want tragedy to ever touch her life again. “What kind?”
Logan shrugged. “The same as all of us. She’s lost those she loved. Her mother is gone, which is a shame. I’d hoped we’d find a way to question her and see if Andra’s father had any connection to Helen’s.”
“Could they be sisters?” Paul couldn’t see any similarities between Helen’s lush, curvy body and Andra’s sleeker, muscular build. Their hair color was similar, but that was about it.
“No. I don’t think so. Their blood wasn’t close enough.”
“Did you learn anything else?”
“Only that she works too hard. Doesn’t eat well or sleep enough most of the time.”
“You got that right,” grumbled Madoc from the kitchen. “There’s not much here that’s edible, and it’s too damn early to order takeout. No one’s open. I’m making a food run. Any requests?”
“No,” said Paul. “Just be quick. As soon as she wakes up, we’re hitting the road.”
“That’s going to take a while,” said Logan. “You might as well get comfortable and take your own rest.”
“Not going to happen. Not while she’s vulnerable.”
Logan smiled in satisfaction. “Speaking like a bonded man already.”
Paul stared at his ring. It looked like it had for the last two centuries, only faded with time. He wanted to believe, but what if Logan was wrong?
Madoc shut the door on his way out.
“What if I’m not wrong?” asked Logan.
“Stay out of my head,” warned Paul. “I’m a long way from being over you bleeding Andra.”
“She offered.”
“Next time, don’t listen to any offers she makes.”
“If I hadn’t fed from her, you’d still be thinking your days were at an end. Certainly that hope is worth something.”
“Yeah, it’s worth a beating if you’re wrong.”
Logan just laughed. “Go guard your woman. It will make you less grumpy.”
Whether or not Andra could be his, being near her still sounded like a good idea, so he took the Sanguinar’s advice and went to her.
Chapter 4
Zillah hated being summoned by a child, but he played along because it suited him. “My lady,” he greeted Maura, bowing low enough to appease her ego. “How may I serve you?”
Maura’s pale hair blazed in contrast with the rest of her surroundings. Everything in her personal chambers was a deep, rich red—the color of fresh blood. Velvet drapes lined the chamber, and a thick, soft rug on the floor helped mute the sounds of his voice so it didn’t echo off the cave walls. He felt claustrophobic in here, though none of the smaller rooms seemed to have that effect on him. Odd.
Perhaps it was the company that he found so stifling.
Her small, round face sneered up at him in anger. “She’s done it again,” said Maura.
Zillah resisted the urge to shake the girl. They needed her too much for him to kill her just now. Soon, but not yet.
“Who has done what?” he asked in a patient voice, as if he didn’t have a hundred more pressing matters demanding his attention.
Her ringlets bobbed furiously as she spun on her heel. “Andra Madison. She stole the child I wanted before we even had the chance to bring him here and find out if he was suitable.”
“We’ll find another,” soothed Zillah. “You mustn’t upset yourself.”
“Upset myself?” she asked in a deceptively quiet voice.
Maura stalked toward him, and even though she weighed only about as much as his leg, she still frightened him. There was something inside those black eyes of hers that made him feel cold. Afraid. It didn’t matter that he commanded an army of thousands. It didn’t matter that he wielded more power than all of the unbound Theronai combined. It didn’t even matter that she was a tiny thing he could break with a careless sweep of his hand.
Maura was powerful in a way he couldn’t begin to understand. She knew . . . things. She could destroy him with as much effort as it took her to blow her dainty nose, and he wouldn’t even see it coming.
For all he knew, she’d already sealed his fate.
“I didn’t mean to make light of your suffering, my lady. I meant only that all will be well. We will find another child.”
“Not with his bloodline. There hasn’t been a human child as strong as him born in two centuries. We need that strength if we are to succeed.”
“There is still time. The girl is only fourteen.”
“Which is why I wanted the boy now. We still have time to alter him to suit her,” she said as if he were the child.
Zillah resisted the urge to slap her, and kept his voice steady. “Shall I send another unit to retrieve him?”
“No. This woman is the one we must stop. Andra. She is the one who keeps stealing my toys. I want her killed.”
“Of course, my lady. It shall be as you wish. I will dispatch troops immediately.” Zillah bowed low, dismissing himself, beyond ready to be out of her company.
His ploy to leave didn’t work. Maura’s eyes got that glazed look he knew meant she was having a vision.
The timing was inconvenient, but he had no choice but to stay and learn what she’d seen. These visions were the only reason he put up with her petulance. The only reason he hadn’t fed her to his pets.
She crumpled to the floor, but Zillah didn’t dare help her. No one touched Maura. Ever.
She pushed herself up, panting and shaking all over. If he’d had any parental instincts, they would have been blaring in his ear at this moment. But he didn’t. He’d sooner watch her die than give her aid. Since she’d come here, every creature who had touched her died within days, screaming in agony.
If she hadn’t been so frail, she would have been a formidable weapon against the Sentinels. Send her in, let her play the role of child and hug them all. An entire compound could be destroyed within days.
“What did you see?” he asked, eager to know and be gone from her presence.
Maura was pale, and if he hadn’t known she was incapable of it, he would have thought she looked afraid. “Forget the boy. There’s another we must find and bring here.”