JUMP (The Senses) (32 page)

Waleron dropped his hands from her shoulders and stepped back. He glanced at Balen. “She must drown. You will bring her back with your breath and your blood.”

“What?” Balen shouted with outrage. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

Waleron raised his brows. “I do not joke. Ever. It is the only way. Once she dies, you have minutes to bring her back. Understand. Minutes. Give her your breath and your blood.”

“I’ll be as weak as a wilted piece of lettuce if I touch that water. How the hell will I be able to bring her back? What if I can’t bring her back?”

Waleron scowled. “Then she dies.”

“No,” Balen said, straightening and curling his hands into fists. “I won’t take the risk.”

“Then she dies anyway,” Waleron said. He walked over to a notch in the cavern wall that was about eight by eight and five feet high. “She must take the water into her lungs. Bring her here.”

“Christ,” Balen said, shaking his head. Die. He never expected this and maybe that was why Waleron never said anything. Maybe this was why he had never heard of any human changing into a Senses. Die.

She had to die.

He looked at Danielle and saw the alarm in her eyes. She heard what they said, knew what was about to happen, and he could do nothing to ease her fear because he was just as terrified.

Waleron had calmed her panic with his
mind, but still Balen sensed her anxiety, the shivers coursing through her body, her heart pumping frantically.

He took her hands in his. “Danielle, if there was any other way . . . I promise I will bring you back. I swear to you.”

“I don’t want to drown,” she whispered, glancing at the stream. “I can’t do this.”

Balen looked to Waleron. “How many others have done this?”

“None,” Waleron stated.

“Promise us it will work,” Balen said.

“It is not I who decides who lives.”

“For Christ’s sake,” Balen fumed. Was there a choice? He could already smell the Wraiths coming. Could he force her if she refused in order to save her life? Or was he killing her by doing this? He grabbed Danielle and pulled her up against his chest. “I can’t let you die, little one. I just can’t.”

****

Danielle wanted to run for her life. Unfortunately, running would cost her life. But then
again, so would staying. Either way it sucked big time.

She had to drown. Die. Balen had to bring her back. Holy crap, this was not what she had expected. Maybe some chanting spells, a special drink perhaps. But dying? And if she didn’t . . . she’d die anyway. Go figure.

She knew the Waleron guy had taken the panic away from her mind, but he had no idea the magnitude of her terror at having to drown. She’d have to force herself to stay under the water against every survival instinct and let herself drown.

“That is why Balen will assist,” Waleron said.

Danielle jerked her eyes to the Senses leader.

“He will keep you from surfacing if that instinct arises,” Waleron finished.

Balen paled. He looked ready to throw up.

Waleron continued,
“Do it now, they are coming.”

She wanted to live. She
’d survived her mother’s slow agonizing death, her father’s suicide and then Ryszard’s torture. She couldn’t imagine what a painful death it would be if the Wraiths took Balen away. Was drowning an easier way to die?

H
ell. She eased back out of Balen’s warm encompassing embrace and walked to what looked like a stagnant large pool of water that sat in the notch of the cave. The blackness was ready to suck her under. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” she said. Could she willingly climb into that water and force herself to drown? No. That was why Balen would keep her head under.

She looked over the side of what was similar to maybe a plunge pool except this water wasn’t clear and the encasing was made of minerals like limestone. Handmade? Had the witches concocted this little pool for something? Would this work? Could she trust Waleron? Did she have a choice?

She put her hand on the rough surface of the edge and then climbed into the notch and sank into the water. Talk about claustrophobia, and she would’ve been long gone if it wasn’t for Waleron calming her body and mind. She glanced over at Balen, who looked ready to stop the whole goddamn thing except, he couldn’t, and he knew it. And still the worst had yet to come.

“Bring me back,” she whispered.

Cold rushed over her body as she slipped beneath the surface. It was deep, her feet unable to touch the bottom. She held her breath, unable to end this quick and suck the water into her lungs. No, she’d take the long way and hold her breath until nothing was left.

The bubbles of air slipped from her mouth and rose. She closed her eyes
, willing herself to relax, think of home, of her father, of . . . Balen. Her lungs began to burn as the last bubble escaped. Air. She needed air. She struggled to fight the instinct to raise her head, but survival won. She couldn’t do this. She didn’t want to drown. Her eyes flashed open and she looked up to the surface. Live, her mind screamed.

All thoughts of what would happen if she did vanished. Live, her mind screamed again. She wasn’t ready to die. She wanted to laugh with Anstice, hold a paintbrush in her hands, taste chocolate on her tongue and hear Splat purr as he rubbed against her legs. Oh God, she wanted Balen’s arms around her,
to feel his lips, taste him. She wanted to love him with all her heart for as long as they had.

And then . . . then he was there, arms wrapping around her waist, holding her immobile, his hand on her head, keeping her beneath the surface. She looked up at him and saw the tortured green eyes staring, his wet hair, that same look she had captured in all her paintings.

She was crying inside, so afraid. Afraid to suffer. Afraid to die.

He crushed her body up against his chest, hiding her face in his shoulder. She felt his tension, every muscle reacting to the natural urgency to save her. He curled his fingers into her hair and kept her struggling body from surfacing.

She couldn’t hold her breath any longer. Panic seized every part of her mind and body. She felt his arm tighten around her waist and his hand stroke the back of her neck. Her legs kicked, her body reacting to the urgency, but he wouldn’t release her.

Nothing was left. Her mouth opened, lungs strangling for oxygen, eyes wide. And then she sucked in the water.

Her lungs rejected the flooding.
Pain.
Her body jerked and revolted, and still Balen held her to him.
Let me live. God, please bring me back. Pain. Agony. Suffocating.
Her last thought was Balen as darkness descended.

****

Balen felt her pulse weaken, her heart slow and then . . . nothing. He surfaced like a madman with Danielle’s limp body in his arms. The water washed the tears away, but he felt them in his eyes, in his entire body as he climbed over the edge and onto solid ground.

Oh God, she was pale. Her lips blue and slightly parted, eyes lifeless. Fuck. Fuck. What if this didn’t work? What if he had killed her? He had held her under the water. She had wanted to
survive; he’d seen the desperation in her eyes.

A hand came down on his shoulder and he looked up at Waleron.

“Save her,” Waleron said.

Balen lay her down on the rough cold ground, sweeping wet strands of hair away from her face and then tilted her head back. He lowered his lips to her mouth and took a deep breath then released the rush of air into Danielle. Her chest rose and fell. He did it again. And again. And again. Nothing.

“Blood,” Waleron said.

Lifeless. Cold. Pale. Eyes staring at nothing.
Her chest wasn’t moving. Oh God, he’d killed her. No. No, his mind screamed.

He felt something slice across his wrist. Waleron’s dagger. “Feed her now,” Waleron ordered.

Balen gave an abrupt nod and put his wrist over Danielle’s mouth. The red liquid slid down her throat, but she wasn’t swallowing. She was dead. She had no way to take in his blood. This was wrong. What if they were doing this all wrong? What if changing a human was impossible? Nothing. Nothing was happening.

He roared with fury, picking her up in his arms and holding her to his chest. Her head
lolled back, mouth open. His wrist continued to bleed. He was weak and drained from the water, but nothing mattered. He had failed to save her.

No. No. He put his lips to hers and kissed her, his fingers in her hair as he tasted his love. His
savior. This woman who was so brave and strong.

“Don’t you leave me,” Balen ordered. He rocked her limp body back and forth, placing kisses along her face, her neck, her hair. Still she remained limp. He looked at Waleron. “Save her,” he shouted. “Do this for me. Just bring her back. Please . . . I beg of you.”

“I cannot,” Waleron said. “She was yours to save, not mine.”

Was.
He said
was.
No, it wasn’t too late. Only a few minutes had passed. There was still time. He’d never give up on her. Never. He lay her back down and breathed into her lungs again, then he put his wrist over her mouth and blood dripped down her throat. “Damn it, Danielle. Live. You want to live. Fight, damn it.”

He needed to see her smile again. Those eyes flashing with heat. Her spunk, her honesty. He needed it all. He could live without her love, but he couldn’t live if she died.

Because of him. She died because of him. This was his fault.

He placed his lips over hers again and again, breathing his air into her lungs. Repeating it over and over. He’d never give up. Never.

She coughed. Blood spurted from her mouth and sprayed his wet shirt. Her eyes blinked and then she took a deep, ragged breath and coughed again.

Balen choked on the sob that emerged from his chest. He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms,
eyes closing. “Little one. My love, my sweet,” he said, holding her next to his pounding heart.

Her body shook and she coughed several more times before
lying limp and weak in his arms. He continued to hold her, feeling her heart beating, her breath moving in and out of her lungs. He ignored the shuffling of feet behind him and Waleron speaking in low tones. All he heard was Danielle’s breath.

“Let her go
, warrior,” a voice ordered behind him.

Balen’s body jerked.

They were here. He had to leave.

He was going to be sent to Rest. He deserved this. He didn’t deserve this woman in his arms. He had prepared for it. He knew running was not in the cards. If he was
lucky, one year in Rest. Exile for fifty years. He could survive that if he knew Danielle was safe. He kissed her temple and smoothed her wet hair away from her face.

“The Bond?” Balen asked Waleron without looking at him.

“I no longer feel it. It is broken,” he replied.

“Balen?” she whispered. She reached up, her hand cupping his cheek.

“Little one,” he said taking her hand in his and then kissing each finger.

Despite every instinct telling him to never let go, he came to his uns
teady feet, cursing the stream and its effects on a Senses. His body was weak as a newborn babe and here he had to face what he’d run from for so long.

Danielle would be safe now. She was one of them and the Senses would protect her. He looked over at Waleron.
“Keep her safe.
”

“
My word,
” he replied.

Danielle sat up and he assisted her to her feet. She swayed and he kept his hand on her arm until she was steady and then released her and turned.

There were two Wraiths; one looked the elder, dignified and patient, and the other the complete opposite. The older one who held the gold bands had to be Tor, the other Edan. Tor stepped forward, grabbed Balen’s wrists and locked the gold bands on them. The sound of the metal closing echoed in the cave. He heard Danielle’s sharp intake of breath and fought every instinct to stay where he was.

“You will be taken to the realm until
council decides what will become of you. We the Wraiths of—” he was abruptly interrupted.

“Kilter,” Danielle cried out.

All eyes turned towards her with confusion. Waleron was the only one who didn’t look surprised, just stiff and expressionless as usual.

Danielle grabbed her head with both her hands. “No. No.” She shook her head back and forth. “Kilter,” Danielle repeated. “I . . . hear him. He is . . .”

Balen glanced at Waleron. His Taldeburu took out his Pez dispenser and snapped the head open.
“Her telepathy is strong. More so than an ancient’s,”
Waleron said.
“The Stream of Hell has given her this power. She is a Senses now.”

“Danielle,” Balen said. “Look at me.” He waited until her eyes
rose to his. “It is your ability. You are one of us now. Close your mind to everything except what Kilter is saying. He is a strong telepath like you. Now, what is he saying?” It must be serious for him to be attempting telepathy such a distance.