Dying Wish: A Novel of the Sentinel Wars (43 page)

The woman was standing now, her clothing hanging from her frame. The sleeves were too short, as if she’d been wearing it for years. Her jeans were in tatters, held closed over her protruding belly with a bit of shoelace. The faint outline of a kitten was embroidered on one leg—a childish emblem meant for childish clothes.

Whoever she was, she’d been here a long, long time.

Ronan held out his hand, planting his feet solidly on the ground so that he didn’t give in to the urge to race toward her.

She looked at his hand, then his face, then past him to what was going on outside the bars.

“We won’t let them hurt you. Give me your hand.”

She took a step. He could see her whole body shaking with the effort.

“That’s right. Just a bit more and we’ll have you out of here.”

Another step, then another. She was close enough for him to extend his reach and take her hand, but he held firm, letting her come to him.

Her fingers settled against his skin, cold and clammy. The dirt caking her stood out in stark contrast to the paleness of his skin. Slowly, so as not to frighten her, Ronan closed his grip and offered her what he hoped was a kind smile.

All he tried to think about was getting her out, but thoughts of her captivity kept invading, distracting him from his goal. He couldn’t even imagine the things she must have suffered. The fact that she’d trust him enough now to touch him was humbling.

“Come on,” he said, sliding a bit of power through his words and touch, offering her his warmth and whatever slice of solace she could take from him.

Ronan tugged her forward and helped her over the corpses littering the area. Drake and Helen had taken care of the remaining demons, but there would be more. Her blood would draw them.

Without seeming like he was doing it, he shifted his grip to her bleeding wrist and healed the wound shut. It wasn’t deep, and it was a relief for him to be doing something useful for her. Given her current state, he wasn’t sure how much anyone could really do to help her.

“We need to go,” said Helen. “Those out feeding will be coming back soon and block our exit.”

They started back the way they’d come, but the woman tugged on his sleeve. “I know a faster way out. Go right up ahead.”

Drake led the way, and did as the woman said. About a hundred feet down the corridor, it opened up into a large cavern. The sounds of battle rang out from the far side.

Ronan pressed the woman back, shielding her from
sight with his body. Fire flared, blinding him for a moment.

“Jackie,” breathed Helen. “That’s Jackie over there. With all those demons.”

Indeed she was, fighting like a woman possessed, clearly heedless of her own safety. Cain was there, too, along with two unconscious bodies—Iain and a young girl.

The fight wasn’t going well. There were too many of them. Cain was doing his best to keep the demons off both Jackie and the unconscious girl, but it was a losing battle.

Ronan wanted nothing more than to get the woman clinging to him out of this place, but he knew it would have to wait. Jackie was too valuable to lose, and there was no way Helen was going to leave her sister here to fight the demons by herself.

They were going to have to fight their way free.

J
ackie picked up Iain’s sword and held off any demon who dared come close to him. The small trickle of power flowing into her held Murak in place, preventing him from leaving. The bubble surrounding his body wobbled every time he struck it, but so far, it had held steady.

Iain was fading. She could feel his heartbeat weaken with every passing second. If she didn’t stop the bleeding, he wasn’t going to make it.

With a silent apology, she demanded more from Iain, drawing more of his power into herself—just enough to shield her back.

Without letting go of Murak, she let Iain’s power slide over her, cradling her close and protecting her from attack the way he would have done had he been able.

She fell to his side and pressed her hands against his bloody chest. The stab wound was deep, so close to his heart, she wasn’t sure whether it had been hit. He was bleeding heavily, telling her that there wasn’t much time.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, then ripped a thick ribbon of energy from him, causing him to groan. She closed her eyes and concentrated on finding the severed blood vessels in order to close them. Her hands slipped on his skin. Heat seared her fingertips, drying the blood beneath
them. Iain sucked in a pained breath and his heavy muscles clenched tight.

The effort was grueling. She felt her cage around Murak falter, and had to let it go—had to let him go. Iain was more important.

Heat flowed through her. She could feel waves of it rising from Iain’s body, hear the air crackling with it.

The stream of power began to waver, stuttering as she demanded more from it. The shield at her back fell, exposing her to dozens of demons hungry for Iain’s blood.

There was nothing she could do. She knew instinctively that if she let go of the small thread of strength she’d managed to hold on to, she’d lose it forever. Iain would be gone. She’d be powerless. Both of them would die.

If she was going to die, she wanted it to be because she’d given her all to save him, not because she’d given up on him.

The sound of the demons behind her grew louder, closer.

They had realized her protection was gone and were closing in.

Cain fought his way toward Jackie. He couldn’t leave Autumn unprotected, so he had to bring her along, fighting with her slight weight dangling over his shoulder. He told himself it was no different from protecting a brother’s flank, but that was a fat lie.

Her limbs flopped around with every slice and thrust, forcing him to move carefully so as not to chop off her leg.

Jackie had stopped helping him kill the demons and instead knelt over Iain. She was trying to save his life. Cain knew that. He would have expected no less of her. But she seemingly had no care for herself or her safety. From the moment she’d dropped Iain’s sword, Cain knew that her life was now in his hands.

Finally, after what seemed like half a year of combat, he was only a few feet away—close enough to see faint blue sparks flying off her back.

She was still alive.

The field holding Murak in place sputtered and then dropped. Cain closed the last few remaining feet toward Jackie, cutting down wave after endless wave of armed Synestryn soldiers and smaller, clawed demons.

The blue flashes sparking at her back began to fade.

Her shield was faltering, just as the one around Murak had done.

Cain was out of options. He lunged sideways, keeping his left side and Autumn out of the reach of swords and claws. His right arm moved with frenzied speed, making his muscles burn in protest.

A blade was headed right for him. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t dodge. It was angled to strike his right arm. He could already see his limb being severed, flying across the space to land as food for demons.

There was nothing he could do but watch as the blade fell.

The demon blade struck, but he felt no pain. Bluish sparks scattered in all directions. Half a second later, Drake was at his side, lopping off the legs of the demon who’d nearly ended Cain’s life.

The girl’s weight lifted from his shoulder. He grabbed for her, but as soon as he felt the faint, welcoming heat of friendly magic surrounding her, he let go.

Drake was here. So was Helen. She must have been the one to relieve him of his burden.

“Thanks,” shouted Cain.

Drake grunted in response, going low to strike while Cain went high. Between them, two more demons fell.

Two down, another dozen more to go.

Jackie had managed to stop Iain’s bleeding, but she was too late. He’d lost too much blood.

His breathing was fast and shallow, his heart fluttering in his chest. Tied to him as closely as she was, she could feel him trying to leave his body.

She couldn’t let go. She loved him. She needed him to stay.

She knew it was selfish, but she didn’t give a shit if it was. All that mattered was holding him close, so that’s what she did.

Jackie wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek to his chest. She tightened her hold on his power, refusing to let go.

“Don’t leave me,” she begged him. “Not yet.”

I have to go,
she heard him whisper against her mind.
You’re not safe so long as I draw breath. Soulless…

“I don’t give a fuck about that. I’ve seen your soul in your actions. You’re a
good
man.”

It’s too hard. My monster has grown too strong.

The core of him—the part of him that made him who he was—began to lift out of his body. She could see it in her mind, feel it through the luceria. It pulsed with power, streaming with thick, black branches. Within that mass was a narrow, golden ribbon wound tightly around it. The ribbon glowed against the darkness, stretching back into Jackie.

His soul. That giant, powerful thing was his soul. She could feel the emptiness of it, the deep aching void that had once been filled with light and life. Gone. All of it gone now—dead and scraped hollow.

He was right. There was nothing left of his soul to be saved. Dead was dead.

Grief welled up inside of her, hot and fierce, clawing and tearing her apart.

She didn’t want to live without him. Intellectually, she knew she’d eventually heal, but she’d already suffered too much. She didn’t want to suffer through his death, too.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I’ll go with you.”

No!
He screamed it into her thoughts, shoving her back. She didn’t go far. She was tethered to him too tightly, knotted around him too many times to ever be free.

Where you go, I go,
she told him, content with her decision.

Something ferocious and deadly broke free, shaking its huge body and stretching its powerful limbs. She could see it in her mind—inside of him—the monster he’d spoken of. She’d felt its presence before, but seeing it now, she knew why Iain feared letting it free.

Giant, layered with thick muscle under tough skin that looked like stone, it towered in her mind, teeth bared, leathery wings spread, and clawed hands open and ready to grab her.

Go,
it growled at her.
Leave us to die.

She firmed her resolve, refusing to let something so insubstantial scare her away.
No.

We won’t let you die.

Then stay. Stay with me. Live.

No soul. No life.

Then take my soul.

The monster froze and then cocked its head to the side. It looked down on her with Iain’s eyes.

No!
she heard Iain shout from a long way off.

Done,
said the monster, its pointed teeth gleaming behind its grin.

A horrific, wrenching pain ripped from her chest, stealing her breath. A dark presence shoved itself into her head, taking over her limbs.

Like a puppet, she jerked to her feet. Power roared into her, but she had no control—no idea what was happening.

Her feet lifted from the ground and she rose into the air above the battle below. Her head swiveled around until she sighted Murak slinking away.

Her hand reached out and an instant later, Murak
stopped. His body rose up and drifted closer until he was right over the crush of demons fighting her friends, her sister.

Another swelling spike of power funneled through her, and she watched as the skin peeled back from Murak’s body. He screamed, but it did no good. His skin was stripped from him, ripping away clothing as it went. Blood rained down over the demons, distracting them from combat.

All that energy that had been rushing through her vanished, and Murak fell into the waiting jaws of his troops. His screams rose up as he was ripped apart by the teeth of his own soldiers.

Jackie fell to the stone floor, landing next to Iain. He was ghostly pale, unconscious, and unmoving. She tried to reach out and touch him—to make sure his heart was still beating, but her arm was too heavy.

Sleep,
she heard the monster growl, only this time that voice came from within her.
You must live for me now.

I
ain woke. That alone was surprising enough. Even more surprising was the sense of peace and the utter quiet within him.

There was no monster. No rage. He hadn’t felt like this since the day his soul had died.

He was lying on a bed with Ronan staring down at him, concern lining his pretty face. Behind Ronan stood Helen and Drake. Cain was in the doorway. On the bed next to him was Jackie, lying far too still.

Panic made him sit up, and a rush of dizziness slammed into him.

“Easy,” said Ronan. “She’s fine. Just sleeping.”

“What the hell happened?” he asked.

“I put both you and Jackie to sleep for a few days so you could heal,” said Ronan. “I wasn’t sure either of you would make it.”

“We’re at a Gerai house,” said Helen. Her eyes and nose were red from crying.

Drake put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and pulled her into his embrace.

“It wasn’t safe to move you,” said Ronan. “We almost lost you both.”

“Where’s the girl?” asked Iain, his voice rough and dry.

“Autumn is at Dabyr with her family, recovering at her mother’s side. So is the other woman we found.” Ronan’s gaze darkened as he said that last part, as if it upset him to speak about it.

“Everyone’s fine,” said Drake, clearly more for Helen’s benefit than Iain’s. “We all made it out.”

Ronan nodded. “And you woke up. I’m glad to see all is well. I wasn’t sure it would be.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Iain.

Ronan glanced at Iain’s chest. “See for yourself.”

He looked down and half of his lifemark was as dead and barren as ever, but the other half was green and lush with a new batch of leaves. He stared at it in shock for a long time, trying to figure out if he was still dreaming, or if this was some kind of sick joke of the afterlife. “I don’t understand.”