Willing Sacrifice (11 page)

“Easy for the manly man with the invisible sword to say. All I’ve got is this knife.” She drew it from her waistband to show him how puny it was. “That’s why my only option was to step off a cliff.”

“Don’t remind me.” He shuddered, and every muscle in his gleaming body flexed.

A tingle from somewhere deep down started to uncurl in her belly, spreading out through her limbs until she wasn’t sure she could even hold the knife. She didn’t know why this man had the power to make her go weak, but he definitely did.

Grace wasn’t sure if she hated that or loved it.

“You need a better grip,” he told her as he pulled the dagger from her limp fingers. “Hold the blade along your forearm to keep it hidden until the very last second.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to scare someone away by letting them see it?”

“With that little knife?” He snorted. “Not likely. Surprise is a better option for someone like you.”

“Like me how? A wimp?”

“I wouldn’t have said it that way.”

Anger was starting to slip into her tone. “How
would
you have said it?”

“You’re human. You have the strength of a human. There’s no shame in that.”

“Again, easy for you to say. It’s not like I’m asking you to give me your sword. I just want a little knowledge.”

He forced out a long breath as if seeking patience. “A little knowledge can be dangerous.”

“More dangerous than stepping off a cliff?”

“You have a point.” He repositioned the knife in her hand and showed her how to hold it. His warm fingers closed around her fist, making his words trickle away, unheard.

She stared up at him, watching his mouth move. The little dent above his top lip was beyond intriguing. She wanted to slide her finger along the contours to get a better feel. Or maybe even her tongue.

The thought was enough to make a mist of perspiration break out across her spine.

He went still and looked into her eyes. “You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” There was no censure in his tone, but a demanding kind of curiosity that compelled her to respond.

“Sorry.”

His gaze moved over her face, slowly, like a caress. He was so close to her like this, one of his hands covering hers on the grip of the knife, the other at her shoulder, changing her position. She could smell his intoxicating skin and feel shimmering waves of heat spilling from his body.

The need to get closer overwhelmed her, driving all rational thought from her head. Her feet shifted closer to his. He lifted the blade so she wouldn’t stab either of them. The move brought her right up against his frame, so close that the tips of her nipples brushed against him whenever he breathed in.

Torr’s eyes went dark, his lids falling to half-mast. His hand glided down to the small of her back, splaying wide. She wanted him to pull her closer, to increase the pressure of his chest against her nipples. They tightened in anticipation, but he didn’t draw her in.

His fingertips found the opening along the back of her tunic and slipped inside. A burst of pleasure exploded down her spine, and a soft sigh escaped her lips.

His expression hardened at the sound, and every muscle along his frame vibrated with tension.

He stared at her mouth now, and hunger lit his eyes. “You tempt me.”

To do what, she wasn’t sure. Nor was she sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “Should I be sorry?”

“I fear you will be if I give in and do what I desire.”

Desire sounded good. “What’s that?”

His fingers curled against her skin, pulling her fractionally closer. “Everything.”

Her heart surged against her ribs. She had to swallow before she could speak. “Long list.”

“Yes. It is. One that would take a lifetime to exhaust. Maybe longer.”

“Sounds like you should get started on that.” With her.

“Do you even know what you’re asking for? Just how much of your knowledge was taken?”

“Not so much that I don’t know what men and women do together, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But you don’t know what you’ve done. Or haven’t.”

“True.”

“And you don’t know if there was a man in your life—one who might object to you helping me with such a list.”

He was right. She didn’t know. And a horrible, selfish part of her didn’t even care.

Grace wanted to move on with her new life, to find some kind of meaning and happiness, but what if there was someone else? What if she was married?

She shoved away from him. Every cell in her body suffered a little death at the separation, but she ignored the agony. “I should go to bed.”

Torr stood there, his arms tight at his sides as if to keep from reaching for her. “Yeah. I think that’s best. I’ll come get you first thing tomorrow.”

She walked away, sure that she was going to be spending the night playing that scene out in her head over and over again, rather than sleeping.

Tomorrow she had to set out alone with Torr. She didn’t know how she was going to keep her distance when she was so drawn to him, but she knew she had to find a way.

•   •   •

Tori watched the disgusting display that Grace and Torr put on. For a minute, it looked like Grace was enjoying the man’s touch.

More confused than intrigued, Tori crouched in silence, her dead prey dangling limp in her grasp.

Nighttime hunting was the best. She’d been out for only a couple of hours, and she’d already scored enough meat to feed the village breakfast. The rest of the night was hers to do with as she pleased, and yet all she could do was stare at the couple who thought they were alone.

Torr’s back was to her, but even so, she could still see the tension radiating out from him as he held Grace. Restraint. Control. He held her as if she were the most precious thing in existence.

Tori knew what he wanted—the same thing all males wanted. If Grace hadn’t left, Tori would have been forced to intervene and protect the sweet woman from what he had in store.

The need to kill bloomed deep in her chest, pounding against her bones with the thirst for blood. The short sword strapped to her belt was in her hand before she even realized it. Its weight felt good in her hand. Solid. Safe.

Once Grace was completely out of sight, Torr stalked off, his walk stiff and awkward.

Tori didn’t have to see his front to know that his penis was bulging and hard. He would have used it to hurt Grace if she’d let him.

Sweet, innocent Grace didn’t even know enough not to let him.

But that was a problem Tori could fix. She had her sword, and she knew just what to do with it.

I
t had been a long time since Torr had washed clothes by hand, but the chore came back to him easily, making him thankful for both washing machines and the Gerai who usually did his laundry.

The lake was blissfully cool. Animals serenaded his work but did little to keep his mind off of Grace. He’d wanted to kiss her so badly. He’d wanted to do a lot more than that, too, but kissing was definitely at the top of his list.

She’d grown lovelier over the past four years. He hadn’t thought it possible, but it was true. Whatever magic was in this place, it suited her. A little too well.

His erection throbbed, so he took a step deeper into the lake to rinse the soap from his charred jeans, socks and underwear. The cool water helped ease his lust, but he knew better than to think it would cure him.

Nothing could make him want Grace any less. But taking her now when she was stripped of her memories and vulnerable seemed like a sort of betrayal.

As much as he wanted her body, he wanted the real Grace more—the one who loved him back. Anything less would be hollow.

His body disagreed, but they’d been at odds before.

Something slipped into the lake a few yards away—probably some nocturnal animal hunting for fish. He’d seen a lot of strange creatures here, but so far, no more of those giant lizards.

He amplified his night vision, gathering a few sparks of power from the earth beneath his bare feet. It added to the power swelling inside him but didn’t hurt the way it once would have.

Ever since Grace had put that healing disk on his back, the pain from the energy he contained—the magic that his mate would someday wield—hadn’t bothered him. He’d spent years in pain, feeling it grow worse every day. That growing pressure was gone now, another gift he didn’t deserve.

With a few quick sloshes, he finished rinsing the clothes. They would be stiff without a dryer, but at least they’d be clean for tomorrow’s trip. A little worse for wear, with a few cuts and burn marks, but still more functional than going naked.

As he tossed the socks over his shoulder and began wringing out his jeans, he felt the water ripple against his thigh.

He reached for his sword, but he was too slow. A sleek, dark form burst from the water, close enough to kill him.

He felt the sting of his skin splitting a second before he recognized that the attacker was a woman, not some animal. And not just any woman. It was Victoria Madison. Tori.

Torr lifted his hands in surrender. Whatever she was going to do to him, he couldn’t fight back. His honor forbade it.

Water sluiced from her hair, but she didn’t blink it away. Her cold blue stare was that of a warrior bent on revenge.

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been raving mad. And with good reason.

The Synestryn had taken her when she was a child. They’d raised her, fed her their poisonous blood in an effort to alter her body so she could bear their young. She’d been their prisoner for most of a decade, and when she’d finally been rescued, it was too late. She’d been tortured beyond imagination. The offspring she’d delivered had died almost instantly. From the rumors Torr had heard, it might not have been the first stillborn child she’d delivered.

Tori had survived those horrors, but her mind was damaged. She was wild, violent. The taint of demon blood running through her veins had changed her into a fierce and savage creature. Only her sister’s pleading and a pledge of fealty to Brenya had earned Tori a ticket to this place and a possible escape from her pain.

Looking into her eyes now, Torr could see that Brenya’s efforts had failed.

“I will kill you,” promised Tori, digging her knife a bit deeper into his skin.

He felt blood trickle down his ribs, but ignored it. The pain was trivial. The damage she could still do to him was the real concern.

Torr took a breath and let it out before he dared speak. When he did, he kept his tone soft and quiet, as he would when speaking to a wild animal. “You can kill me, but I’d prefer you didn’t.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I know what you want to do to Grace. I saw you.”

His cheeks heated in embarrassment, less because of what he’d been doing than because Tori had been close enough to see them and he hadn’t noticed. “I would never hurt Grace.”

The knife lowered toward his naked groin. “You were stiff. You wanted to hurt her.”

“That wasn’t about pain. I know what you’ve been through, but—”

The knife dug into his lower stomach, way too close to his dick for comfort. “You don’t know anything. Don’t pretend like you do.”

He lifted his hands wider, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. As tall as he was, that wasn’t the easiest feat to accomplish. “Okay. I don’t know. But there are things you don’t know either.”

That caught her attention. He could feel the subtle shift of pressure traveling through the blade slicing into his skin a fraction of an inch. Her grip had relaxed. Not enough for safety, but a little.

“Like what?” she asked.

“What you saw between me and Grace was about love, not pain.”

“She doesn’t love you. She doesn’t even know you anymore. Brenya says we can’t tell her.”

“You’re right. She doesn’t know me. But I know her, and I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

“Then why were you stiff and bulging?”

Poor Tori. She really had no idea about how the world was supposed to work. All she knew was pain, blood, hunger and death.

Torr made sure that none of his pity for the girl showed on his face. While she was physically a grown woman now, inside she was still a child—a feral one who would not appreciate his sympathy for her. In the world of the Synestryn—the world she’d grown up in—pity was weakness, and weakness was to be cut out, culled from the herd.

He chose his words carefully. “I was aroused because I wanted to make her feel good, make her happy.”

Tori snorted in derision and slid the blade to his balls. “You were going to hurt her. Admit it.”

“No. I won’t. I swear I would never hurt Grace.”

“Vow it.”

“What?”

“Use the words of power. Bind yourself to your lies. If you say the words, you have to obey them.”

Torr looked her in the eye. “I promise I will never intentionally hurt Grace.”

“Promise you won’t put that thing in her.”

“No. That’s none of your business. You don’t know what you’re talking about when it comes to sex.”

The blade nicked his skin deeper, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from flinching.

“Promise me!” shouted Tori.

This was not going to end well. He’d used up all the patience he could spare. If he didn’t do something now, she was going to do irrevocable damage.

Torr stopped pretending he was harmless and unleashed his power. A blurring burst of speed later, Tori was disarmed and her back was pinned against his front, his arms caging her. She kicked, but the water slowed her down and robbed her of any strength behind her blows.

He felt the moment that she shifted from anger to panic. Her limbs became rigid, and the sour stink of fear poured out of her. Her screams rose an octave, and there was no more intellect to her blows, only pure instinct.

His heart broke. This poor girl had been damaged beyond even Brenya’s ability to repair. There was nothing left for him to do but put her out of her misery.

He gathered a glowing pulse of power and shoved it out his fingers. “Sleep,” he ordered.

Tori fell limp in his grip. He carried her to the shore, then dressed in wet clothes before taking her back to the village. He hoped that when she woke in the morning she’d be calmer, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath.

A girl like Tori didn’t have any calm left in her. The Synestryn had taken it, leaving behind only fear and rage. If he hadn’t already vowed to kill every one of them he could, she alone would have been enough reason to do so.

The only chance she had now was to find the male Theronai who was compatible with her. Maybe he would be able to reach past the crazed violence enough to touch the woman Tori would have been had she not been kidnapped as a child.

Then again, giving someone like Tori access to the almost unlimited power housed inside a male Theronai was one of the worst ideas he could imagine.

Maybe she was better off here where she could do only minimal damage, where she could live out the rest of her years in as much peace as someone like her was able to find. It was the least she deserved for her lifetime of suffering.

•   •   •

Grace slipped into Brenya’s hut before dawn. She needed answers. Now.

“You should have already left, child,” said the older woman. She was wrapped in a fur, huddled against the morning chill.

“I will soon. But first I need to know something.”

“I’ve given you all the knowledge you need.”

“No, it’s something else. I need to know if I was married.”

Brenya fell silent, but the slightest smile creased her cheek. It was gone before Grace was even sure she’d seen it.

“Was I?” she asked.

“When you came to me, there was no ring.”

“You opened up those other memories. I thought maybe you’d open more, or that you’d know something.”

“Why does it matter?”

Grace had hoped the older woman wouldn’t ask that question. “You know why.”

“So you fall for the first man to enter our borders?”

“He’s . . . nice.”

“Flowers are nice. A warm bowl of stew is nice. Torr is dangerous. That is why I summoned him.”

“He would never hurt me.”

“All men hurt women. It is their nature.”

“You don’t know him.”

“And you do, child? How?”

Grace had no answers. “I don’t know. I just . . . He makes me . . .”

“Tingle?”

“Yes. Exactly.” Grace beamed, pleased that Brenya understood.

“Ignore it.”

“That’s not the kind of thing a girl ignores.”

“Tingling comes right before sorrow. That man lost the woman he loved. Such pain is bound to leave its mark. You do not want to be the thing he uses to erase it.”

“You really do hate men, don’t you? The girls all say it’s true, but I never believed it before now.”

“I do not waste anything as powerful as hate on men. They are not worthy.”

“So you’re not going to help me figure out if I’m married, then, are you?” asked Grace.

“You are not. But you should not let that make you stupid, child. Guard your heart.”

Grace laid her hand on Brenya’s arm. “I’m sorry he hurt you so much.”

The waves in the older woman’s eyes frothed with anger. “There are no words for what he did, child. I wished it had been only hurt he caused.”

Grace didn’t dare ask. She didn’t want that kind of thing in her head.

Brenya’s tone was calm again, as if nothing had angered her. “Go fetch Victoria for me. She and I must speak. She was a naughty child last night and must be punished.”

•   •   •

Tori hated Brenya’s hut. It was dark and cluttered, reminding her of dank caves filled with the bones of dead friends.

“What do you want?” she asked as she entered.

“Respect is a good place to start. After you have found that, I think we should discuss what you did last night.”

“Torr told on me, didn’t he?”

“He did not need to. I know you. I am part of you now.”

Tori hated the reminder, hated that the old woman had been in her head, rooting around for what she thought should be there: flowers and candy and fuzzy puppies. Those were the things that real girls thought about—girls who grew up in houses, with parents and television and food.

Tori had been raised by demons who kept her locked in tiny, cramped spaces with no light. Her entertainment was watching her captors fight to the death over who would hurt her next. She was fed the blood of monsters. And worse.

Brenya thought she could somehow change all that—that she could reach into Tori’s mind and scoop out all the bad stuff. It wasn’t until the older woman started stomping around inside Tori’s skull that she realized the truth: bad stuff was all there was.

“You are more than your past, child,” said Brenya.

Tori stalked forward, her hand on the grip of her blade. Anger seethed in her veins, burning her from the inside out. Her head pounded with the need to kill. “You have no right to invade my privacy like that. Get the fuck out of my head!”

“You are overwrought. Settle.” Power pulsed from Brenya’s order, forcing Tori to collapse where she stood.

The packed-dirt floor was cold, hard. She could smell the soil, feel the grit of it clinging to her skin. Very little light streamed in through the single window, covered with a layer of heavy leather. None of that light reached Tori, and she felt herself collapsing inward as terror crushed her.

She hugged herself and rocked, unable to hear anything beyond the demon blood pounding in her ears and her own pitiful wails of anguish.

She wouldn’t go back to living like that again. She would dig her own heart out of her chest before she’d let those demons touch her again.

A warm, dry finger pressed into the center of her forehead. She flinched, striking out in reflex.

Brenya let out a sharp rush of air but didn’t even rock from Tori’s blow to her gut.

“You will calm yourself, Victoria.” It was a command, as powerful as the ocean and as bright as the moon.

Tori’s heart started to slow. Her breathing evened out. With no energy left to fuel her panic, that began to fade, leaving her dizzy and nauseated.

“That is better. Now, let us go outside under the suns and discuss what you did to Torr and why you are sorry.”

“I’m not,” snapped Tori. The heat of her words lost a little force in her breathlessness.

Brenya offered her hand to help Tori to her feet. Her face was stoic, but her stormy eyes gave away just how angry she was. “Perhaps you are not sorry for your actions yet. But before we are done, you will be.”