Falling Blind: The Sentinel Wars (21 page)

“Go,” ordered Cain. His voice came out as a growl of anger.

Ronan took off down the gravel driveway. “I didn’t hurt her.”

“You weren’t exactly gentle, either.”

“I had to knock her out. You saw how rabid she’d become. She was willing to do whatever it took to go after those demons—no matter who she had to go through to make it happen. It was the right choice.”

“Yeah. I’m sure she’ll see it that way when she wakes up.” And the fact that Cain had held her in place for Ronan to subdue was not going to sit well with her.

Cain tried not to care if she was angry at him. As long as she stayed out of danger, she could be as mad as she liked. But that was a lie. He was trying to connect to her, to tie her to him. Letting Ronan hurt her wasn’t exactly the way to win her over.

“Shall I head for Dabyr?”

That would have been Cain’s first choice, but they would never find the person who blocked her visions from behind those walls. And so many people around would hurt her. If he tried to lock her up there, he knew she’d find a way to escape, and there were too many humans around to get hurt.

She’d already proven that she was willing to use his power against him. He’d felt her intent as clearly as if it had been his own. What if she used his power against the humans as well? She could easily kill someone. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t force her to live with the guilt that kind of mistake would create.

“She was definitely compelled to act. I could feel the power of it spreading through her as I touched her mind.” Cain caught Ronan’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Can you free her?”

“It’s possible, but the creature I touched was strong.”

“So is she. If anyone can shake this off, she can.”

“I’ll need more blood—more than you can give. I’m currently too weak to do much. And some of that blood will need to be hers. There’s no way around that.”

Every protective instinct in Cain stood up and roared in defiance, but he knew the stakes. He knew Ronan wouldn’t hurt her. At least no more than he had to.

As angry as he was at what Ronan had done, Cain knew it had been the right choice. His hesitation could have cost them Rory’s life had Ronan not acted when he did.

And that wasn’t the only thing men like Ronan had done for him. The Sanguinar had restored Cain’s fertility. They’d given him something he’d never thought he’d have again. And with that gift of hope, they’d earned his trust. At least more than he’d given them in the past.

“I’ll put out the call,” said Cain. “I’ll make sure you get what you need.”

“Do I head east toward the closest Gerai house?”

“No. South. Toward her house. I think she’ll feel better if she’s at home when she wakes. It’s not far.”

Ronan drove while Cain split his attention between Rory and the surrounding landscape. He saw no signs of demons, but he knew they were out there. The demons were always out there.

By the time Ronan pulled into Rory’s driveway, Paul and Andra were already there, waiting. Paul’s sword was out, his gaze on the line of trees skirting Rory’s property. Andra’s long body was propped up against the white porch, watching Paul. As the van pulled in, Andra galloped down the steps, her combat boots kicking up little clouds of dust as the stairs bounced under her feet. Paul stayed put, watching her back.

She pulled the van door open. Moonlight gleamed off her leather coat and her blue eyes went straight to Rory. “She okay?”

“She will be,” said Cain. “Thanks for coming.”

Andra gave a nonchalant shrug. “We were nearby, and tonight’s fun really hasn’t gotten started yet.”

Despite her comment, Cain thought she looked tired, worn thin and desolate. There were circles under her eyes, and sadness lurking along her mouth.

Then again, Andra’s baby sister, Tori, was in bad shape after a decade in the hands of the Synestryn. They’d fed her their blood, tortured and raped her. That was more than enough to fuck up anyone. She’d recently left Earth in the hopes that a powerful woman on another world would find some way to clean the Synestryn poison from Tori’s blood, and with it the homicidal rage she suffered.

That was months ago, and no one had heard from Tori since. It was no wonder Andra looked like she’d had more than her fair share of sleepless nights.

Ronan glided up to Andra’s side, a strange excitement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “How are you?”

She gave him a brief glance and uttered a distracted, “Fine.”

“Let’s get inside,” said Paul.

Andra nodded at her husband. “I’ll put up some defenses.”

Paul shot her a worried look. “Don’t push yourself, okay?”

“I’m fine.”

She wasn’t, but Paul was obviously aware of that.

Cain carried Rory inside. Ronan held the door. Paul cradled Andra’s neck in his hand and a faint blue light seeped over the house. Cain could see it shimmering over the windows, warping the view outside.

“That should hide us for a while,” she said as she shut the door.

Cain laid Rory on her bed, arranging her so she looked comfortable.

Paul stood in the bedroom doorway, watching. “What happened?”

“A Synestryn took her blood and compelled her to run toward combat. Ronan thinks he can help, but he’s low on juice. I’ve given all I can.”

Paul nodded, his face impassive. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks.”

Paul’s gaze hit the luceria around Rory’s neck. “Congratulations.”

A little spurt of excitement shot through Cain as he stared at her. The colors in the luceria had darkened, streaming with a deep amethyst purple. “Don’t be too hasty with the congratulations. We’ll see how long she stays by my side.”

“You’re a good man. I’m sure she’ll see that.”

Cain couldn’t look at his friend as he admitted, “I’m not the man I used to be. And she knows what happened the night Sibyl was taken. Hell, tonight I couldn’t even do the right thing and render her unconscious so she wouldn’t go and hurt herself. What woman wants to tie herself for eternity to a man who keeps screwing up?”

“You’re too hard on yourself. And if she isn’t smart enough to see through to the man you really are, she doesn’t deserve you.”

Cain snorted. “No big deal, I’ll just go out and find the next compatible female Theronai on the streets.”

“How close are you?” asked Paul.

Cain didn’t need to ask for clarification. He knew exactly what the other man meant. “I was down to two leaves when I found her.”

Paul winced in sympathy. “What did she promise?”

“To stick with me until she finds the person who blocks these visions she has. They’re debilitating, but seem to go away when I touch her. Then they come right back with a vengeance.”

“So you’re not the person, then?”

“No. Whoever it is, they are able to help her from some distance. Rory’s never even seen them as far as I know. She thinks it might be some kind of magical device.”

“Gilda had a fairly comprehensive list of items. I’ll call Joseph and ask him to have someone look for it. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“I know I should be busting my ass to help Rory cure her visions, but I can’t say I’m enthusiastic about her vow being fulfilled.”

“Right. Of course. I understand. No calling Joseph.”

Paul turned on his heel and left. Cain sat there for a long moment, staring down at Rory’s sweet face. Her dark makeup was a smeared mess around her eyes, and there was a red mark on her forehead that looked suspiciously like the outline of Ronan’s fingers.

Cain smoothed his hand over the mark, wishing he could wipe it away.

If he’d been a little faster the night he’d met her, she never would have been stabbed by the demon. Her blood would be safe, and she would be awake and as feisty as ever. Instead, she was locked in an unnatural sleep, possibly with those nightmares Ronan had warned them about.

As much as Cain wished there had been something he could do, he wasn’t that powerful. All he could do was make sure Ronan got what he needed to help her.

No, that was wrong. There was something else he could do—something he knew he
should
do.

Cain dialed Joseph, but the leader of the Theronai did not answer his phone. Cain left a message, telling Joseph to find Gilda’s list of magical artifacts and search for one that could help Rory. With that chore done, he eased her out of her spiked leather coat and tugged off her shoes to make her more comfortable. He pulled the blankets up to her chin and went to figure out just how much blood it was going to take to fix his precious Rory.

In the living room, Paul was already rolling down his sleeve after feeding Ronan. A flush of color stained the Sanguinar’s cheeks, and a faint glow lit his eyes.

“Is that enough?” asked Cain.

Ronan shook his head. “It was all I dared take from Paul. He needs to be able to fight.”

“Take my blood,” offered Andra.

“No,” clipped Paul.

Cain should have been right there with his brother, defending Andra’s blood, but he couldn’t do it. If the choice was a small sacrifice from Andra to save Rory suffering, it was an easy one to make.

Paul took Andra’s hand in his. “You’re too tired. You haven’t been sleeping or eating. It’s not safe.”

Ronan stayed where he was, his body still. Excitement and hunger shone in his eyes, but he made no moves to take what he so clearly wanted. “If not Andra, then you will need to call someone else. Not a Gerai, either. I will need more power than that if I’m to fight this demon.”

Andra gave her husband a hard look. “I’m doing this. I can’t help Tori right now. At least this way, I’ll be helping someone.”

Paul shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a good—”

“I need this, Paul. Please don’t fight me.”

He let out a long sigh, but gave a grudging nod. He looked at Ronan, warning clear on his face. “Don’t push it.”

*   *   *

Ronan had lied, but for all the right reasons. He could hear the heartbeat of Andra’s child and needed to reassure himself it was safe. The strain of Andra’s grief was weighing her down, exhausting her. It was obvious in her listlessness and the heavy fatigue riding her features. That strain wasn’t good for the child she carried, which meant it was his duty to do what he could to rid her of it.

And the only way to do that was by having access to her. And her blood.

Paul was overprotective of his wife, and the only person who could have swayed his decision was Andra herself.

The setup had been too perfect for Ronan to resist, so he’d woven the lie, refusing to feel even a moment’s guilt. Every Theronai child was a gift, and Andra needed to be strong right now to ensure that child was healthy.

Ronan didn’t dare go for the woman’s throat. Instead, he held out his hand for hers, and bent over her wrist. Hot, potent power flowed into him, clouding his thoughts for a moment. The baby was a boy, and the strength of that little life was shocking. It seeped into Ronan, filling him with a giddy sense of hope. He knew he wouldn’t have long before Paul intervened, so Ronan gathered his wits and moved past sensation into pure intellect.

Weariness pounded through her with every beat of her heart. Grief. Guilt. Loneliness for her baby sister. All of it swirled together into a tight knot he wasn’t sure he could loosen. He was inundated with input, with emotions so raw and ragged they were nearly overwhelming.

Using a burst of power fueled by Andra’s rich blood, Ronan went straight for the source of her anguish—her baby sister—and laid a muting veil over it. The fix wouldn’t last long—only a few days—but it would give her time to rest and regain her strength before those deep, searing feelings of guilt and loss came back to haunt her.

Ronan sought out the new life, needing to reassure himself it was safe. As he did, he felt a curious stand of magic winding through her.

Someone had altered her, and based on the familiar feel of it, Ronan was sure that either Logan or Tynan was to blame. Or thank, depending.

Whatever had been done to her, she was fine. The baby was fine. And taking more blood would not be good for either of them. If her emotions interfered with the safety of the child, then he was sure that Paul would not stand in the way of Ronan doing what needed to be done.

With a thought, Ronan closed her wounds. He sat back on the couch, feeling a wide grin stretch his face.

“What?” asked Paul, his hand on his sword.

He didn’t know. There was no way he could know. Andra didn’t even know.

Ronan considered not telling them, but there seemed no point in waiting. Good news might be just the thing for them right now—something to help them through these trying times.

He looked at Andra, who sat calm and still. A soft, sleepy look tugged at her eyelids. “You’re pregnant.”

She blinked slowly, as if not understanding his words.

Paul’s body went still in shock. “What? Are you sure?”

“I am.”

Andra looked up at her husband. There was no accusation in her eyes, only faint curiosity. “How? I thought you couldn’t get me pregnant.”

“I was with you when you found out Nika was pregnant. I’ve been with you as you watched her over the past few months. I felt what you did.” He sat down beside Andra and took her hands in his. “You know I would do anything for you. Give you anything you wanted. And you wanted this. I bargained with Tynan for the serum.”

Andra’s words were slow and halting, tinged with guilt. “I didn’t want you to know how I felt. The timing was bad. The war . . .”

Paul gave her a lopsided grin. “To hell with the war and the timing. Our child will grow up with Nika’s. I’d say that’s all that matters.”

“Your son,” said Ronan.

A smile quivered on Andra’s lips. Tears flooded her eyes. “Our son.”

Ronan saw Cain leave the room in a rush he tried to hide. The Theronai disappeared into the kitchen. Ronan decided it was his time to leave the couple alone to absorb the news as well. He had a call to make. Tynan was going to be overjoyed.

*   *   *

Cain was happy for his friends, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide his jealousy over their news. Staying would have given his selfish feelings away, ruining what was an otherwise beautiful moment.