Dying Wish: A Novel of the Sentinel Wars (35 page)

Hunger twisted in his guts, driving him upstairs.

He smelled the presence of another person before he saw her. Light perfume or perhaps the soap on her clothing mingled with the scent of human woman. He found her in the kitchen, reaching into a sack of groceries.

She froze, her dark eyes widening with surprise.

“I won’t hurt you,” he told her.

She was in her fifties, he guessed, with a plump figure and kind, brown eyes. She covered her heart with her hands and breathed out a sigh of relief. “You surprised me.”

On one hand was a wedding band, and on the other was the silver ring of the Gerai—a smooth band with a single leaf etched into the metal. Ronan glided forward and extended his hand to shake hers.

The ring of the Gerai vibrated against his skin, validating its authenticity. This woman was one of the rare
humans who possessed enough Athanasian blood to be a true Gerai—a human who aided in the war against the Synestryn.

“I’m Ronan. I’m sorry I scared you.”

“It’s okay.” A dark blush colored her cheeks as she stared, but he was used to that. His kind was beautiful, and even the humans he’d known for years had a tendency to let their gaze linger a bit too long.

He released her hand and stepped back. The predator in him was urging him to pounce, to drink her blood and sate his hunger. Instead, he lifted another sack of groceries onto the table and began removing items from the bag.

“I’m not used to running into anyone here,” she told him.

“I was hunting in this area and needed to take shelter from the sun.”

“Are you hungry? I could fix you something to eat.”

His hands froze in the act of removing a can of peas.

She stammered, hurrying to correct herself. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. You probably don’t want real food at all.”

Her innocent offer made his hunger grow, drowning out all other sensations. “I eat,” he said, hoping to calm her. “Real food, that is.”

She caught his gaze and was trapped. He hadn’t planned to feed from this woman, but she was here, and he was starving.

He let a small stream of his dwindling power slide out of him to wrap around her. Her eyelids drooped and her body slumped slightly as she relaxed.

“But what I need right now is blood. You want to give that to me, don’t you?”

His prey nodded.

Ronan kicked the refrigerator shut and lifted her into his arms. The couch was nearby and perfect for his needs. He let her head fall back, exposing her throat. “Do you
want to remember what I’m going to do to you?” he asked.

“No,” she whispered. “My husband…”

That was for the best. The poor dear probably felt some kind of attraction to him and thought it was a betrayal of her vows. It wasn’t. She couldn’t help her reaction to him any more than he could help his reaction to her. He needed her blood, her power.

Ronan made quick work of his meal, drinking until she was hovering on the edge of losing too much blood. Her power slid into him, easing the ravenous hunger enough to allow him to concentrate.

He erased all memory of his presence and filled her with the compulsion to rest and hydrate before getting back behind the wheel of her car. No marks remained to show what he’d done, and he left her napping on the couch.

Before he left, he finished putting away the perishable groceries and set a glass of water on the table beside her. With his conscience eased, he backed his van out of the garage and drove off with the windows down, hoping for some hint of the trail that had gone cold.

For the first time, Iain knew exactly how his monster felt, being caged and trapped, impotent to act.

He clutched at the bars of the cell, pulling and pushing against them for some sign of weakness. There was no window here. The walls were concrete, and several feet belowground. And while he knew letting himself be taken into custody was the right thing, he was regretting it now.

Jackie was hurting. He could feel her shock and anger pouring through their link. Denial overshadowed her grief, making him wonder if she had yet accepted his fate the way he had.

He needed to be with her, to tell her that everything was going to be okay. Reaching out to her through the
luceria wasn’t enough. He wanted to see her face and know that she believed what he said. There was no way he could go to his death in peace if he knew she was left behind, confused and hurting.

The lock at the main entrance to the detention cell buzzed open. Iain strained to see who it was, but the angle was too sharp. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me,” said Jackie, her voice washing over him like warm, clean water.

He let out a long breath and reached out through the bars for her.

“Hands to yourself,” said a man. Then a second later, Drake walked into sight. “I’m here to make sure things stay nice and civil. Do you understand? If I see any sign of danger, I’m dragging her out of here.”

Iain nodded and stepped back. He was going to be a good little boy if that’s what it took to see Jackie again before he died. Besides, the idea of Drake touching her made his monster want to come out and play.

Jackie came into sight, so fucking pretty it took his breath away. Her gray eyes were shiny with unshed tears, and she chewed on her bottom lip in anxiety.

“Is it true?” she asked, inching closer. “What they said about your soul?”

His gaze dropped to the ground in shame and he nodded. “I couldn’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

“But you don’t seem…evil.”

“I hide it. Control myself. But it’s there, lurking inside of me, growing stronger every day.”

“That’s what I saw, wasn’t it? When we were…together.”

He still couldn’t look her in the eye. “I didn’t want this for you. That’s why I wanted you to choose another man. I knew I’d never be whole.”

“And why the luceria won’t fall off. Because you’ll never be as good as new.”

Her fingers slipped between the bars, so delicate and
beautiful. He remembered just how they could make him feel, and he wanted her touch again so badly it nearly drove him mad resisting the need to step forward so she could reach him.

“That’s not safe,” said Drake. “Don’t make me force you to leave.”

Her head snapped around to glare at him. “Try and see how well that goes.”

Helen’s voice came from out of sight, but nearby. “He’s only trying to protect you.”

“Just leave us alone for a minute, will you? We deserve some fucking privacy.”

“I’m sorry,” said Drake. “That’s not going to happen.”

Jackie pulled a burst of power from Iain, and then waved her hand. Drake slid out of sight as if he’d been pushed.

“He’s right,” Iain told her. “It’s not safe for you to be around me.”

“Not you, too. I’m sick of hearing the bullshit. I want you to tell me what I need to do to save you.”

“There is one thing you could do.”

“Name it.”

“I need you to deliver a message to some men for me.” He gave her the names of the other men in the Band of the Barren. “Tell them that I sent you, what’s happened to me, and then tell them that the Band is compromised, and they need to go into hiding.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Just tell them. They’ll know what you mean.”

“How is this going to save you?” she asked.

“It won’t, but it may save their lives.”

“I’m not concerned about their lives. I’m worried about yours.”

“There’s nothing anyone can do to save me. You can’t bring my soul back to life any more than you could bring back the people who died in those caves.”

She flinched, her brows pinching together in grief.
“Don’t say that. There has to be a way—some magical spell or something?”

“Dead is dead. We both have to learn to live with it. I’m just sorry that you’ll still be connected to me at the end. I’ll try to keep my thoughts to myself, but you may have to keep me out. It shames me to admit it, but I may not be able to control myself and keep from reaching out for you.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, but there was fury lurking beneath the sadness. “I won’t leave you to die alone.”

“I don’t want you with me then, Jackie. I don’t want you to feel the life drain out of me. It will haunt you forever. I’d rather you remember whatever it is you saw in me that makes you care enough to be standing here now.”

“Of course I care about you. How could I not when you’ve thought of nothing but the people around you since the night we met? You must have known that this could happen—that you could be locked up and sentenced to death. That’s why you were cold, shoving me away so I wouldn’t end up right here, angry and devastated that you’re just going to let them kill you. You haven’t done anything. You can’t let them do this.”

He bowed his head, unable to look at the hurt radiating out of her eyes. Only, even looking away, he could still feel it pulsing into him, pounding at him through their link. “It’s the only way now.”

“What? There was another way before? A better one? Because if there was, let’s do that instead.”

He reached for her, wrapping his hands around her fingers. They were cold, shaking. “I knew the only way to free you was for me to die. As soon as we went into the next battle with people there to watch over you, I was planning to end it.”

“You were going to
kill yourself
? That’s no option.”

“It was for me. It was an honorable way to go—one
I’d chosen. Certainly better than being sent to the Slayers in shame.”

“I don’t want you to die.”

His fingers tightened around hers, trying to warm them. “You’ll be fine without me. You’re strong. Just promise me that you’ll stay away at the end. I don’t know how they’ll kill me, but I have to know that you won’t suffer alongside me. Promise me.”

She shook her head, making more tears spill out. “I won’t make this easy on you. I won’t make it easy on any of you. If you do this, you do it without my support.”

“It must happen.”

“It’s just more proof that I don’t belong in your world. How could I belong with people who kill their own because of what
might
happen?”

“If you’d seen what someone like me is capable of, then you’d understand.”

“I don’t want to understand. I just want to wake up and find that this was all a bad dream.”

His hands slid up her arms, cupping her shoulders. His eyes roamed her face, memorizing every little detail. He would put that picture in his mind when the time came, and let it comfort him. “Give me your belt and I’ll end it now, so you don’t have to suffer for as long as it takes them to get me to the Slayers.”

“My belt?” she asked, confused.

“They took mine. I have no sure way of killing myself in here.” He’d considered slamming his head into the concrete wall, but that was no guarantee of death. He had to do it right to limit Jackie’s suffering. If he simply maimed himself, she’d still be tied to him. Permanent brain damage could trap her for eternity. “Help me and this will all be over in a matter of minutes.”

A look of horror crossed her face and she pulled back, shaking her head. “I won’t help you kill yourself.”

“It’s what I want. I’d rather die by my own hand than by someone who now calls themselves our friend. Think
about my future executioner. How would you feel if it was your job to kill someone you didn’t even know?” He couldn’t think of a way to make her understand that he didn’t want to tarnish what was a mostly noble life by causing others pain as his last living act.

“No.”

“Please. I want to end my life in the most honorable way possible. Help me do that.”

“I can’t. I won’t.” She turned and ran, the sound of a stifled sob echoing behind her.

Serena paced the room, her stomach twisting violently.

Iain had turned. The man she’d loved for so long was dead.

Her heart wept for what she’d lost. If only she’d ignored her mother and bonded with him sooner, none of this would have happened. She would have saved his soul.

Hatred for her mother coursed through her body, making her tremble with its power. For two hundred years she’d sat trapped in that bubble, unable to speak to anyone, catching only fleeting glimpses of the world as it passed her by.

She didn’t belong in this place. She understood none of what she saw around her, not the glowing tubes of light overhead, or the warm draft of air sliding through a grate in the ceiling. The table was carved from metal rather than wood, and she was almost certain that people were watching her from behind the large mirror in one wall.

Things were different now. Too different. Even the brief trip she’d taken from outside this castle to this room had shown her a world of wonders just waiting for her discovery.

She’d trade every one of them in for one single leaf clinging to Iain’s lifemark.

The door opened, and a large man with a hideously
scarred face walked in. He offered her a smile, but the web of scars crossing his mouth twisted it into something ugly. She tried not to flinch, but her nerves were strung so tightly that she was certain she hadn’t covered her insult.

His smile faltered. “I’m Nicholas Laith. Joseph sent me here to release you.”

Instantly, she began to panic. She was in an alien world, devoid of the knowledge she’d need to navigate it. “Where shall I go?”

“Go?” he asked, seemingly confused. “You’re not going anywhere. I just meant that you can get out of this room now. You can stay here with us. I had a suite prepared for you.”

He opened the door for her to proceed, and led her out into a long hallway. “What are your orders regarding me?” she asked.

“Orders?”

“Your leader told you to come and fetch me, correct?”

“He said to make sure you were comfortable and to get you settled.”

“So I’m not a prisoner here?”

Mr. Laith shook his head. “No.”

“Then I can leave if I wish?”

He looked down at her, and despite his scars, his vibrant blue eyes were stunning. “Do you know how to drive a car?”

“I can ride. I can’t yet pay for a horse, but I promise you I’ll find a way to earn the money if you’d be so good as to extend a loan.” She hated riding, but she’d do what she must now. At least she was free to do so.