Falling Blind: The Sentinel Wars (4 page)

But not tonight. Tonight there was still some fight left in him.

Cain held out his hand to the woman. “If I don’t get you out of here you’ll die. I heard the howls. More demons are coming.”

“Thanks, but I’ll find my own way home.”

Her gaze met his, and the pounding pressure in his skull quieted. The grinding pain of the ever-growing power he contained within him abated. His luceria—the magical ring and necklace he’d been born wearing—vibrated against his skin.

Cain stepped closer, refusing to believe what he was feeling. His luceria would react only in the presence of a woman who was capable of wielding the power he carried. Women of his kind were rare, and stumbling upon one in the dark made hope and suspicion war within his chest. Part of him yearned to believe she was as she seemed—that she was one of the precious few able to save his decaying soul. But mostly, he doubted that which seemed too good to be true.

If the Synestryn had set out to create an enticing package he could not resist to lure him in, this woman would have been it.

She was lovely beneath the heavy makeup. The tilt of her dark eyes, the smooth curve of her cheek, the sweet shape of her mouth—they all invited his gaze to linger a bit too long. The longer he stared, the more curious he became. She roused a restless, hot ache deep in his gut, even as she eased the tightly clenched muscles riding along his spine.

There was a fierceness about her that intrigued him. In the moments before he’d reached the end of the alley, he’d seen her fight. Her fear was evident in her trembling limbs, and yet she refused to flee as most humans would have done. Perhaps it was her injury that held her in place, but something about her attitude made him question that. If his guess was right, she wasn’t new to dangerous situations. She seemed far too calm for that. There were no questions about what those demons were or why they’d attacked her. She wasn’t in shock. There were no hysterics.

She’d done this before. And survived. Only a true fighter could have done that.

But beneath that fierce exterior, beneath the chains and leather and ridiculous hair, Cain saw something else—something vulnerable and fragile, as if she were protecting some vital, breakable part of herself.

That was what intrigued him most, drawing him in. He wanted to get past all of the trappings and exterior wrapping to the real woman hiding beneath. Only there would he find out if she was the miracle she appeared to be, or some new trick the Synestryn had learned to play.

Cain stepped closer. The wind picked up, dragging a hint of her warm, sweet scent to his nose. Some dormant, crouching part of him woke up, groaning in delight. He breathed in again, desperate for anything powerful enough to distract him from the pain. He didn’t even care how it looked for him to lean close and suck in the air around her as if it were the only source of oxygen he could find.

Heat spread down his chest. He felt the branches of his lifemark sway as if seeking a way to get closer to her.

It had to be a trick—some sinister weapon devised by the Synestryn to keep him still so that she could attack.

But she made no move to do so. She simply stood there, staring at him with dark, intoxicating eyes meant to lure him in and render him stupid.

Keeping his voice quiet so he wouldn’t scare her away, he asked, “What’s your name?”

Her gaze slid to the ground, her posture tightening defensively at his question.

The pain within him swelled again, cutting off his air for a moment. Lights danced in his vision. His hand gripped his sword harder as he fought through the returning pain, shoving it down where he could better control it.

“There’s a shelter not far from here, in the old Tyler building,” she said, avoiding his question.

She didn’t want to tell him her name? Fine. He’d learn it soon enough. After he saw to her wound.

“I know the place,” he said. “Can you walk?”

She scowled at him as if he’d insulted her. “Of course.”

She used the two-by-four as a cane, but it was too long for the job. On her next step, she tilted wildly, and Cain lunged forward to catch her.

Before his hands made contact, she righted herself. His hands fell to his sides. He was glad he hadn’t had to touch her while at the same time regretting the missed opportunity to feel some part of her within his grasp. If he touched her, he’d know for sure if he was imagining his luceria’s reaction.

As stupid as it was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the truth just yet. Lingering in this fog of possibility was nice. There was so little hope left in his life that he couldn’t help but wish for it to remain alive for just a bit longer.

He was close enough to her now to see that she was shaking—close enough that his necklace lifted away from his skin, straining to reach her.

He wasn’t imagining that. He wasn’t simply making up pretty lies for himself. She was the real thing. A Theronai like him.

Or she was causing him to hallucinate.

Cain couldn’t take any chances with her life—even if that meant falling for whatever lure the Synestryn had cast in his direction. He had to assume she was as she seemed until proven otherwise. And that meant getting her to shelter. It wasn’t safe for her to be out alone and unprotected like this. “We need to get you patched up.”

He reached for her, but she hobbled back, leaning on that board for support. “I’ll be fine, thanks.”

Irritation tightened his mouth, holding back sharp words better left unsaid. Her rejection was as obvious as it was predictable. He’d been through this before—been within arm’s reach of a woman who could save his life only to have her deny him. Jackie had chosen another man. Based on this woman’s reaction to him, his chances with her weren’t much better.

Cain took a long step back. He wasn’t going to do this to himself again. He wasn’t going to let himself hope for miracles only to have them yanked away from him at the last second. Jackie’s choice had nearly killed him. It
was
killing him. He could feel the decay of his soul moving faster with every passing day. If he hadn’t been able to convince a woman he was worthy of her vow before, he had little chance of doing so now, with even less of the man he’d once been remaining.

His responsibility to the pink-haired girl was only to see to her safety. Logan would heal her and report her existence to their leader, Joseph. Once that was done, Cain would be on his way.

With that decision made, he felt better. Less unbalanced.

She took a wobbly step forward, trying to make it on her own. If she continued on like this, she was going to hurt herself, and even if she didn’t, getting her to safety was going to take entirely too long.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he told her, hoping to ease whatever misgivings about him she had. “My name is Cain. I just want to help.”

She avoided his gaze and his invitation to give him her name. “You were pretty handy a minute ago, doing that ninja act. I would have been monster chow if you hadn’t come by. How did you find me?”

So she knew about the Synestryn demons—she wasn’t one of those people who pretended they were rabid dogs or chimpanzees escaped from the zoo because it was easier to accept.

That made him wonder if she knew who
she
was, too. Several of the women like her they’d found recently had had no clue about who they were.
What
they were. They’d thought they were human.

It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing he could ask. If she wasn’t even willing to tell him her name, he couldn’t expect her to tell him her secrets. And it had to be a secret. If it hadn’t been, someone would have known about her—one of the Sanguinar, at least. They meddled enough in the lives of humans to know everything, and if one of them had known, he would have brought her to Dabyr for her protection.

“I was in the area, hunting,” he said.

She blinked fast as if trying to clear her vision. “Uh . . . hunting?”

He realized the latent violence of his wording too late. It was no wonder Jackie had rejected him. He sounded like some kind of barbarian. “Those things that attacked you, it’s my job to kill them. I was told there was an infestation in this area and came to eliminate it.”

“So, you’re like some kind of monster exterminator?”

“Something like that. I heard the gunshots. I thought I should check it out.”

“You’re not the only one who heard them. The cops will be here soon.”

At the rate she was moving, both she and Cain were still going to be here when that happened. He really didn’t have the time or the patience to wipe the minds of a bunch of human police and send them on their way.

“Please. Let me help you,” he offered again, stepping a few inches closer, gauging her reaction to see if she’d balk at his approach. He’d seen her face the demons, and while she’d been afraid, she hadn’t been panicked. The spacing of her shots was too even. She’d saved her ammunition until the end. Those were not the actions of a coward.

“Unless you’re afraid of me,” he added.

Like he’d flipped a switch, her posture changed. She was no longer shrinking away from him, but thrusting her chin out in defiance, her narrow shoulders square and her head held high. Fierce independence radiated out from her dark eyes and Cain felt himself being drawn in, wishing he could get even closer.

Her voice was sharp with anger. “You’d need a hell of a lot more than just a sword to even make my scary meter twitch. Some ugly teeth and at least a few claws for starters.”

“Good. Then you won’t mind.”

Before she could ask what she should mind, he slid her arm over his shoulder and gripped her waist, forcing her to lean on him for support. He didn’t want to touch her, but she wasn’t capable of making it to Logan without help, and the sooner Cain got her to safety, the sooner he could be on his way.

He was careful not to touch her bare skin with his, but even with the padding of fabric and leather between them, more pain dribbled away, giving Cain room to breathe. He hadn’t even realized how bad things had gotten for him until some of that agony eased with her nearness.

He glanced down at the ring portion of his luceria—the magical band that was meant to tie him to a woman, allowing her to wield the power swelling inside him. He’d been on his own too long, and now that power was killing him, crushing the soul from his body.

The swirls of colors in his ring were moving as if they’d been stirred—much faster than they’d ever moved with Jackie. There was no question. Whoever this woman was, she was a Theronai. And she was compatible with his power.

This small, ridiculously pink-haired girl who wouldn’t even tell him her name had the power to save his life.

*   *   *

Rory was broken. That was the only explanation as to why she was letting a stranger touch her—especially one as armed and deadly as this man.

She’d lied about his sword not scaring her. The proof of just how deadly it was lay on the ground behind them, leaking black blood. Not that she thought he’d use it on her. She didn’t. But she’d learned not to trust her own judgment when it came to hot men.

And Cain was definitely hot.

Pressed up against his side like this, with his arm around her, she could feel just how powerfully built he was. Every step made his muscles flex and bulge as he practically carried her toward the shelter.

He was so warm. Wave after wave of heat sank through her clothes, each one warmer than the last. She tried to stifle her shivers of delight, but she was certain he had to be able to feel them.

“It’s cold out here,” she said, hoping he’d take those shivers for something other than her drinking in his delicious heat.

He said nothing, but pulled her tighter against his side, sliding his hand a bit lower onto her hip.

Rory stifled a groan of pleasure, biting her lip to hold it back. The urge to lean her head on him was driving her crazy. She was not the kind of girl who snuggled against a man for warmth. Or anything else, for that matter. She’d learned the lesson Matt had taught her. For all she knew this guy was some kind of Renaissance festival freak who lopped off the heads of demons for fun. Slay the dragon, save the girl.

Rory did not need saving. At least not usually. Though even she had to admit that tonight had been a close call.

Flashing police lights filled her head between flickers of
QVC
and some guy surfing a porn Web site. “The police are coming.”

“They’re the least of our worries. You’re bleeding.”

“So?”

“You must be blooded. That’s why the Synestryn came.”

She’d heard Hope talk about Synestryn, but she’d never heard the term
blooded
before. Besides, playing dumb was probably the much safer option here. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A ragged howl echoed off of nearby buildings.

She felt more than heard a low, angry growl emanating from Cain’s thick chest, and in that moment, she became all too aware of just how formidable an opponent he’d be. She had no chance of defending herself against him, and hoped like hell that he was telling the truth about wanting to help. Because if he wasn’t, she couldn’t think of a single thing she could do to stop him from doing whatever he wanted. She couldn’t even run.

His arm tightened around her waist a bit more, and she could feel his hand through her clothes, leaving patches of heat wherever his fingers touched. For one brief moment of total insanity, she wondered what his touch would feel like without all the denim and leather in the way.

Great. Apparently she’d lost enough blood to render herself stupid, too. Just her luck.

His hand was shaking. Or maybe that was all her and her quivering idiocy. She couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, the vibrating touch felt . . . nice. Right. And he smelled so freaking good, she was sure it had to be her imagination. If she leaned her head against him like she wanted and breathed in his scent, there was a good chance that she might be able to distract herself from the fact that he could be some raving mad, sword-wielding serial killer who wanted to use her skull as a coffee mug.

Their progress was slow and awkward, thanks to her injury. Each step hurt more than the last. The sharp, stabbing pain in her joint nearly stole her breath away, and now a fine layer of sweat was forming on her skin. She made it only a few yards before she could no longer put any weight on her knee. She tried to cover her flinch of pain, but she could feel him staring down at her.