Falling Blind: The Sentinel Wars (31 page)

“Are you hurt?” he asked, the gravelly sound of his voice vibrating her nipples deliciously.

“I don’t get off on pain.”

“Good. Because I could never hurt you—not even if you begged for it.”

“Are you going to make me beg now?”

“No. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“I want you to stop holding back. I’m not fragile. I won’t break. I want the real you—all of you.”

Something in his expression shifted, going darker. The tension she’d seen in him before seemed to drain away. A small, wicked smile tugged at his mouth. “Then open up, Rory. I’m going to give you everything.”

She wasn’t sure what he’d meant until she felt the luceria vibrate around her throat. An instant later, a flood of images and sensations flowed into her, rocking her down to her soul. She saw the two of them together, naked and locked together in positions she hadn’t even imagined. She felt his heated lust lash across her like plumes of fire, leaving every inch of her skin glowing and flushed. His fantasies and hopes and dreams all funneled into her, filling her with the need to see each one of them come true.

She wasn’t just with him, she existed inside of him, their two minds woven together in a way she could hardly believe possible, even as she felt it.

And then he started to move. His cock slid out of her, leaving a hollow ache behind. She opened her mouth to scream at him to come back, but there was no need. He was already surging forward again, giving her exactly what she needed, as if he’d felt her need as keenly as she had his.

Maybe he had. She wasn’t sure. She didn’t care. The physical sensations, piled onto the things he did to her mind, were almost too much to stand. She no longer had any control over her actions. Her hands went where they wanted. Her mouth sought out his, desperate for his taste. Her hips arched up to accept him into her body, over and over again.

This was more than sex. It was the fusion of two people, two souls. More meaningful than the physical pleasure it brought, she felt the experience change her—altering her on a fundamental level in a way she’d never be able to undo.

But with ecstasy like this, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Cain drove her higher, both with his touch as well as with his thoughts. He hid nothing from her, forcing her to feel everything he did, down to the coiling buildup of his impending orgasm. Rory’s body responded in kind, answering to his call, bulging with her own growing pressure.

His mouth ate at hers, drinking in her breathless cries. She would have been embarrassed by how loud she was being had she not felt how much it turned Cain on. He liked her loss of control, the proof of her enjoyment. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted all of her. Forever.

And right now, tied to him like this, glowing with so much glorious sensation she could barely contain it, she wanted that, too. Reality didn’t matter in this space. No bad things could reach her here. She knew there was some reason why forever should bother her, but she couldn’t remember what it was. If he wanted this forever, she was more than happy to give it to him.

His presence in her mind seemed to swell and brighten. She felt a change come over him—a kind of feral intensity that hadn’t been there before. His gliding pace began to speed, drawing her attention back to her body.

Pleasure rained over her, pulsed through her. Cain surrounded her with his heat and strength, driving her higher with every slick thrust. Words spilled from his mouth into hers. She couldn’t understand them. She didn’t even care that she couldn’t. The pressure inside of her was too much now. She was never going to survive its release.

He gathered her close, curled around her body and sent a tingling surge of sensation tumbling out of his skin. Wherever they touched, her nerve endings came alive, sending crazy, rioting signals up her spine.

It was too much. She couldn’t hold it all. A hard, ferocious climax ripped out of her in a soundless scream. Cain’s cock plunged deep and he came, rocking in shallow, urgent thrusts as his semen filled her. Each pulse of heat spilling into her drove her higher until she could no longer breathe.

Rory let go of everything. It was the only way to survive the intensity of this storm. She let it buffet her about, accepting what came, too weak to fight anything he made her feel.

Slowly, her abdomen relaxed enough for her to find a shallow breath. The blotchy spots in her eyes shrank, allowing her to see Cain.

He was draped over her, limp and spent. He covered her completely, like a living blanket, but so much hotter. Sweat shone on his body, making his golden skin glow.

She kissed his shoulder, licking the salt from his skin. His scent, his taste, they were part of her now—the knowledge buried so deep she was sure she would never forget.

They were still joined—their bodies, their minds. Even now, exhausted and spent, Cain was still with her, giving her what she’d asked of him. Gentle, softer images of them together overcame the more fiery, passionate ones. She saw them holding each other, laughing.

He’d already shown her what a bonded pair of Theronai could do—how they could fight and hold back the demons. But now he showed her a different side. Years spent growing closer. Multiple lifetimes to joke and play. Yes, their lives were dangerous, but that wasn’t all they had. There was a closeness there that Rory had never considered—a familiarity forged from centuries of partnership.

As she let him feed these images into her, a deep yearning began to take shape. She wanted this. She wanted this closeness, this unity. Which only made reality that much harder to face.

People around her died. Cain would, too, unless she beat him to it. Knowing that others could have what he’d just showed her only made real life that much more stark and bleak by comparison.

The longer she stayed with him, the easier it was going to be to forget the way things really were—the promise she’d made after Nana had bled out. Rory’s life was not destined to be like the pretty fairy tales he showed her. No matter how much either of them might wish otherwise.

Her life was already shaped by her actions, by who and what she was. She had no intention of abandoning Cain to die, but he had to find someone else—someone brave enough to take risks and earn the happily ever after he’d shown her. She wasn’t strong enough to play such a high-stakes game of chance.

Cain rolled aside, frustration making his movements jerky. “You’re going to run away now, aren’t you?”

“I’m just going to the bathroom.”

“To hide from me.”

He wasn’t supposed to know that part. It made her feel like a coward, which she hated.

She got up and grabbed the bathrobe from where he’d dropped it on the floor. “I need a little space, Cain. That was too . . . intense.”

“You loved it. You can’t lie to me. I was there,
inside
you.”

“Believe me. I remember.”

He sat up as she slipped the robe over her body. Everything about him was so appealing. His size, his looks. His soul. She wanted to wrap herself up in him and hold him close—let him keep all of life’s bullshit away.

But that wasn’t the way things worked. She was a big girl who knew the score. She couldn’t afford for sex to be anything more than just that.

A mocking, snarky laugh welled up from her gut, but she clamped her lips shut to hold it in. That had been a hell of a lot more than sex.

A fact that Rory was now going to ignore.

*   *   *

Cain thought he’d almost had her. He’d let her have all of him, as she’d asked, holding back nothing. He’d bared himself to her, body and soul.

And she’d walked away.

He hadn’t thought that anything could have hurt as much as losing Sibyl, but he’d been wrong. Rory’s rejection was just as bad—reminding him of all the reasons why he’d been a fool for letting her get that close.

The damage was done now. He couldn’t turn back time. He refused to make her forget. She’d made up her mind, and he was going to have to find a way to accept it.

The only thing he could think to do now was find the demon that Ronan had subdued and kill it so that there was no chance of it ever controlling her actions again.

At least that was something real and solid—a purpose he could focus on so that he didn’t have to think about what had just happened.

The shower turned on behind the closed door. She was in there right now, washing away all traces of him from her skin. The notion bothered him more than it should have. Or maybe it was his own need to cling to the scent she’d left on him that made him feel that way. Their partnership was far too lopsided. She had all the control, all the power. All he could do was flounder in the aftermath of her choices.

He couldn’t change her vow. He refused to force her to stay with him. Ronan’s chat with her had informed her that she didn’t even need to be close to him for him to survive. If she walked away, no guilt necessary.

Fuck that.

Cain was no doormat. He was tired of watching the people he cared about walk away. He was a fighter by nature, and if his survival meant he had to fight a little dirty, then so be it. Rory held his future in her hands, and he’d be damned if he’d let her crush it.

One way or another, he was going to find a way to get through that pink head of hers.

Chapter 21

R
onan waited until the sun was high before he dared reach out for the Synestryn lord who had stolen his blood. The connection between them was weak now, as was the demon that had forged it. Like Ronan, its powers dwindled during the day, sapping its strength.

Carefully and slowly, he slipped along the thread of blood and power that bound them, seeping into the demon’s mind by the tiniest drops. This contact was not about control, or about trying to rid Ronan’s mind of the foul presence that infected him. He didn’t make so much as a ripple as he passed, seeking out information only.

The demon’s sleep shifted as it began to wake. Ronan held still, letting vile thoughts and memories flow around him like sewage. As each one touched him, he let it seep in, granting him information.

The pain this creature had caused was a fetid, rotting cancer in Ronan’s mind. He didn’t dare fight it, but not judging the evil acts was much, much harder. Each moment of revulsion, each second of accusation forced the demon into wakefulness.

There was little time left—only seconds before the beast woke and realized what Ronan was doing. Before it was too late and the demon snagged him and sucked him in, Ronan drifted back out of the festering decay of the creature’s thoughts and back into the cool, dark confines of his own mind.

The familiar space comforted him. It helped wash away the repulsive horror of what he’d seen.

Ronan lay still in the blackness of the basement, slowly sifting through the information that he’d gathered. Most of it was useless sludge that he discarded before it could take root and grow. But there were details that he’d collected—things that had been at the forefront of the demon’s thoughts.

Of Raygh’s thoughts.

This demon had a name. It fancied itself as some kind of king. As powerful as it was, Ronan was certain that lesser demons were quick to obey.

Like the Handlers that Raygh had sent. They were powerful creatures in their own right, but had chosen to answer to Raygh for some reason Ronan could not fathom.

That was interesting, but not nearly as important as the other information that Ronan had learned.

Raygh had two sons. Both of them had been killed, and now he was seeking out all of those who had been present at the time of his sons’ deaths. That’s what those barb-tailed creatures were about. They were gathering blood, giving Raygh a way to track his prey and control them.

And thanks to Ronan’s time in the festering slime of the demon’s mind, he knew exactly who Raygh was going after. Ronan had smelled them all before—both human and Sentinel.

Rory and Cain were among them, as well as Iain, Jackie, Hope, Logan, Drake, Helen, the human child Autumn, and Beth—the woman Ronan had pulled from a cave a few months ago. All of them needed to be warned, and those who were tucked safely behind the walls of Dabyr needed to remain there.

Ronan tried to lift his hand to pull his phone from his pocket, but he was too weak. In a few hours, when the sun lowered, he would be able to warn the others, but until then, his sole job was to maintain the barrier that he’d erected in his own mind—similar to the one he’d designed for Rory, but not nearly as strong. She had no idea what she was facing. Ronan did. There was only so much power he could expend, and his options were one weaker shield or two weak ones.

The choice had been simple. The demon and he were a matched set. Both of them were stronger by night, both of them lived on blood. The only difference was, Ronan was careful of his food, while Raygh cared little for those from which he fed. They were vessels. Empty husks to be tossed aside when he was finished with them.

That lack of hunger made Raygh stronger, but Ronan had something else on his side. Years of needing that which he could not have had given him an iron will. He controlled himself, and that was why, no matter how well fed the demon was, it would never get past Ronan’s defenses.

He was no thing’s puppet.

*   *   *

By the time Rory got out of the shower, Cain was dressed and waiting for her, wearing a do-not-fuck-with-me look on his face.

She eyed his jacket and the keys dangling from his thick fingers. “I guess we’re leaving?”

“I’m leaving. You stay here with Ronan. You’ll be safe here.”

“Safe? Are you kidding me?”

“As safe as you’ll be anywhere. We can’t go to Dabyr with that demon in your head, which means I need to go kill it.”

“Just like that. Do you even know where it is?”

“Nope. But it’s got to be close to where you lost it. The more distance between you and it, the harder it would be for it to control you.”

She didn’t want him to go. She wanted someone else to go and kill the bad guy. Not Cain. She wasn’t ready to lose him—especially not when he was risking his life for her. “This is insane. You can’t just go out there alone and hunt for demons.”