Falling Blind: The Sentinel Wars (25 page)

“Death, for one.”

“I’m okay with that,” she said. “I’m not okay with toting a demon around as some kind of brain buddy for the rest of my life.”

“I’m
not
okay with it,” said Cain. “Your life is far too valuable to toss away.”

“My life. My choice.”

Ronan held up his hand for their attention. “I’m not done. Death is not the only risk. There’s also brain damage.”

Rory went stiff and a little trickle of fear slid between them. “Yeah, I’m not a fan of that.”

“It’s still better than the worst possible side effect.”

She groaned. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

“I’m certain you don’t. But I will not proceed unless you’re aware of the risks.”

Cain couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t simply stand here, pretending like she wasn’t suffering. He
felt
her. He couldn’t ignore her distress.

He threaded his fingers through hers. They were cold and trembling, bringing out every protective instinct he’d ever birthed. If he could, he would have tucked her away somewhere safe, but that was not an option. Not with Rory.

“What’s the worst-case scenario?” Cain asked.

“I fail utterly, and you will be trapped indefinitely within the Synestryn’s mind, unable to escape. You would essentially become part of the demon.”

She stopped breathing as a palpable wave of fear rushed through her, straight through the luceria into Cain. He gritted his teeth, suffering through the emotion alongside her.

Her voice shook harder than her fingers. “I’m not letting that happen.”

“On that, we’re agreed,” said Cain as he pulled her up against his side. She fit perfectly under his arm, like a piece of himself that he’d been missing all his life.

Ronan nodded once. “Good. Then I shall mask the beast and show you how to defend yourself against it, giving us enough time to find and destroy it.”

“Do you know where it is?” she asked.

Ronan’s pale blue gaze hit the carpet, as if he was hiding something. “I believe I can find it.”

Something was off here. Cain was sure of it. “What aren’t you telling us?”

The Sanguinar’s mouth flattened into a thin line of acceptance. “This creature is strong. Frighteningly so. The closer to it we get, the more power over us it will hold. And it’s not alone. I sensed connections to hundreds of demons. They bow to its will.”

“So we’re not simply fighting one demon, we’re going after an army.”

“I believe so, though it could be that the creature simply wanted me to believe that.”

“No,” said Rory. She scooted tighter against Cain’s side and gripped his hand as if seeking comfort. “Ronan is right. Any demon that is strong enough to make us believe it has an army is probably strong enough to actually have one.”

Cain gathered a warm strand of comfort and sent it streaming through their link. He was amazed by how easily he’d learned to use their connection—as if he’d been born knowing how.

Tears gathered along her lower eyelids for a moment before she blinked them away.

In that moment, with fear bleaching her skin and her slender body trembling against his, he felt filled with a sense of purpose. It swelled in his chest, making him feel stronger, faster. Invincible.

For Rory he would do anything—find a way to give her whatever she needed. She may not stay with him forever, but for now, she was his, and it was his duty—his joy—to provide for her.

He squared his shoulders as determination buoyed him. “If this beast has an army, then I will build one as well.”

A hot, bubbling feeling spread over his chest, tingling as it passed. His lifemark swayed like mad, as if tossed around by a fierce wind.

Rory looked at him in shock, like she’d felt it, too. Maybe she had. Or maybe she was reacting to his declaration.

She put her hand on his chest, and his heart leapt at the contact. “Are armies easy to come by in your crazy corner of the world?”

“No, they are not,” said Ronan. “There are only a few bound couples available to help.”

“They’ll come.” Cain was certain they would. “I’ll call Joseph and have him coordinate a meeting.”

A fierce rush of eagerness flooded through the luceria. Beside him, Rory seemed to vibrate with anticipation. “And in the meantime, Ronan can scrub my brain. After that, target practice.”

“Target practice?” Cain asked.

“If I’m marching into war, I’d better at least know what kind of gun I’m carrying, don’t you think? I wasn’t so hot with fire. But I should be good at something useful.”

He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that it could take years for her to grow comfortable with her abilities. She needed to believe she could do this, and because she needed it, so did he.

“Are we agreed?” asked Ronan.

Rory and Cain said, “Yes,” in unison.

“Good, then it’s time to see what this creature has done to your mind. Before Andra’s shields fail.”

“Go downstairs,” Cain told Ronan. “I want a minute alone with Rory.”

Ronan left. Cain pulled Rory into her bedroom and shut the door.

“What?” she asked, suspicion narrowing her eyes.

“I wanted to prepare you for what’s going to happen. I don’t like the idea of you being scared or unpleasantly surprised.”

“Okay. Just do it quick, because now I’m even more freaked out.”

“He’s going to drink your blood.”

“Uh. No, he’s not.”

Cain cupped her shoulders in his hands. “There’s no other way. But you should know that I’ll be right there. I won’t let him take too much or do anything else to hurt you.”

“He’s going to be fucking around with my head. How will you even know what he’s doing?”

Without the heavy mask of eye makeup, she looked more vulnerable. She
was
vulnerable. She just didn’t always acknowledge it. He’d taken his cues from her, assuming she was okay with everything that had been piled atop her over the past few hours. But there was no way she could be okay with that large a burden.

“If you allow it, I’ll slide inside your head as I have before. I’ll be as close to you as I can, monitoring everything that Ronan does.”

“If I allow it? I demand it. I don’t trust him. I’m sure he’s a good guy and all, but I don’t trust anyone when it comes to psychic brain surgery.”

But she trusted Cain—at least enough to
demand
that he monitor Ronan’s actions.

That was a gift Cain hadn’t expected, and it lifted him up on another heady wave of renewed purpose.

Again that strange, bubbling feeling spread across his chest. Only this time, he was sure Rory felt it, because she shoved his shirt up, baring his lifemark.

New, tiny buds now lined the branches of the tree. A few of them had unfurled to reveal pale, shiny green leaves.

He knew it was supposed to happen, but it was still hard to believe. The sight left him shaken and so grateful he was unable to speak past the knot in his throat.

Rory had saved him. Her connection to him had renewed his lifemark, driving away all traces of pain and decay.

Cain was reborn, and it was Rory who had given him new life. At least for now.

“Whoa. How the hell . . . ?” Rory ran her finger along his skin, making his abdomen clench with delight.

His voice was thick with emotion and quiet with reverence. “You did that. You took my luceria and gave me a second chance.”

Her fingers trembled across his chest, gliding up until she’d reached his heart. She looked up at him with gratitude shining in her dark eyes. “I’ve never done anything that cool in my life. It makes me wonder what other cool stuff I might be able to do.”

“Whatever you want, Rory. I’m certain that you will be a force of nature.”

“Like that woman you showed me from your memories?”

“Yes. Just like that.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Thank you, Cain.”

“For what?” He had done nothing, when she had given him everything.

“For making me believe I don’t completely suck. For showing me that magic is real.”

He’d hardly shown her anything—just a single drop in an ocean. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

If she gave him a few centuries, he’d show her the world.

She went up on tiptoe and kissed him lightly on the mouth. It was over so fast, he hadn’t even gotten over his shock before it was over.

His mouth tingled, and watered for more, but he stood there, frozen, sure that if he so much as twitched, he’d simply drive her back to the bed and spend the rest of the night claiming her body as his own private playground.

The longer he stood there, the darker her cheeks became, flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry. I just wanted to know what it was like to kiss you. In case things with Ronan go bad.”

Finally, his sputtering brain caught up with what had just happened. She’d kissed him because she thought she might die. Because she wanted that before her life ended.

Cain wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her, but he couldn’t fault her for being afraid. He was as well. Only his certain knowledge that he would find a way to keep her safe—whatever the cost—kept him steady.

“You still don’t know what it’s like to kiss me,” he finally managed to say.

“What?”

“That wasn’t a real kiss.” He gripped her hips to hold her still while he closed the gap between their bodies. “This is a real kiss.”

He lowered his mouth to hers. Slowly, this time savoring the moment that his lips touched hers. A tingling shock so gentle it was almost a caress lingered between them. He tilted his head slightly, willing her to open her lips and let him in. He needed to taste her, to commit all of her to memory so that he could always find this moment in his thoughts.

The intoxicating scent of her skin spun around him, the air heated by the growing inferno in his body. Desire rained down, pelting him with the need for more.

Her lips parted on a soft sigh of surrender. The rougher side of him—the one that had fought and conquered for centuries—rose up in ferocious excitement. It wanted to stake a claim—to take what it wanted and never let go.

Cain shut it down before things could get out of control, but that need was burning there, ready to break free if he presented even the slightest crack in his willpower.

Rory’s mouth became demanding, her tongue gliding along the inside of his lips, dipping to tease him. She pushed him back. He let her, willing to go wherever she wanted so long as he didn’t have to lift his mouth from hers.

He hit the wall hard enough to send something to his left crashing to the floor. He didn’t care what.

Rory’s fingers gripped his head, her nails leaving the most delicious little stinging bites in his scalp. He lifted her up, propping her ass in one hand so she could more easily reach him. But now that his hand was full of hot, curvy flesh, his world went a little sideways.

His body throbbed with lust, each beat of his heart working in a futile effort to cool his skin. It did no good. The press of her breasts against his chest, the sweet heat of her mouth on his, the aggressive little growls she let out—it all crashed together, rendering him senseless.

He had to have more. All of her. Strip her down, lay her out, fill her up until there was no more room between them for anything other than pleasure. That’s what she deserved.

A hard knock sounded on the door. “Everything okay?” asked Ronan. “I heard glass breaking.”

Go away,
was what Cain wanted to say, but he couldn’t stand to pull his mouth away from hers for even a second.

Ronan knocked again. “We really need to get on with this. Andra’s shield won’t last forever.”

Shit.
Ronan was right.

Cain hated to admit it, but he couldn’t risk Rory’s safety—not even for the pleasure of kissing her.

He lowered her to the ground, disengaging their bodies. She stared at him in challenge, her dark, shiny lips parted in a speedy pant. “I’m not done with you yet,” she said.

His cock jerked toward her in demand. “Good to know.”

“When Ronan is done, you and I are coming right back here. And you’re going to give me what I want.”

“And what is that, Rory?” he asked, cursing himself for tempting fate like that.

She stroked his erection through his jeans, nearly making him come apart. “I want you naked, in my bed. In my body.”

Cain shuddered at the image she painted, unable to deny her. “Anything you want. As soon as it’s safe.”

He hadn’t intended it to be a vow, but the weight of his words settled over him, sealing him to his commitment.

“Now I’m not so afraid.”

“Why is that?”

A sexy grin curled her mouth, nearly bringing Cain to his knees. “Because there’s no way I’m dying now—not with you as the prize for surviving.”

Chapter 17

C
onnal woke up ravenous. He’d sent repeated calls for help to his contacts among the Synestryn, leaving messages in all of the locations he’d previously used, but no responses had been forthcoming. As the days passed, he grew weaker.

None of the Gerai blood he’d taken over the past few weeks seemed to ease his hunger. The only time he’d felt sated in the past year had been when he’d fed from the woman that Zillah had impregnated—Beth, the woman who had been stolen from Zillah and now lived here at Dabyr with her sister.

She had been taken as a child and raised in the caves. She’d been fed demon blood—her body altered so she could bear half-Synestryn children. Beth’s child had died before it was born. But Ella’s had lived. She’d lied and said that her child was human—that she’d been pregnant before she’d been taken by the Synestryn—but Connal could sense the lie running through the little boy’s veins. He wasn’t sure why no one else could.

Maybe because Connal had been altered in some small way, too.

He’d fed from Beth, and the child growing inside of her had enough of its father’s power to weaken Connal’s control. He’d been made to do things, to turn on his allies in exchange for the only food that made the pangs of starvation ease.

And now that food was here, living under the same roof as him, tempting him with her proximity.

Connal had been avoiding her for months for fear that she’d recognize him and reveal what he’d done. He’d tried to assuage his guilt by telling her that her blood was the key to her rescue, but he’d never dreamed that his decision would put him in this situation.