Falling Blind: The Sentinel Wars (34 page)

Her nipples tightened and dragged over his chest, making his lifemark respond in a frenzied flurry of rioting branches. Her pussy clenched around him, and he knew he was a goner. Holding back was impossible. There was simply too much pleasure to bear—too much perfection to be found in her arms.

Her mouth opened on a scream of completion, and Cain covered her lips with his to drink it down. He fused them together as the first frenzied wave hit him. Sparks spewed from her hair. He heard them crackling in the air. The taste of her cries swept over his tongue, and deep within her body, the first pulse of his release broke free.

Rory’s hips wiggled madly and her sex hugged him tight, clenching as her orgasm swept through her. He poured himself into her, filling her with hard spurts of semen. The pleasure was endless, and yet over far too soon. He held her close while the storm passed.

She drooped in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder as she caught her breath. He petted her back and stroked her hair, unwilling to let her go. His heart thundered in his ears and his heart was racing, but he was content and completely blissed out, hovering in that moment when the world’s problems could not break through.

As the cold wind passed over them and the sweat cooled their bodies, Rory began to shiver. Cain found the closest article of clothing he could and draped it over her naked back. It was his shirt—the one she’d ripped open.

He grinned at the memory of her ferocity, even as it made his softening cock twitch with a little thrill. He liked that she wasn’t shy about taking what she wanted from him, and the thought of when she might next make demands had his deflating erection swiftly reversing course.

They couldn’t stay out here like this no matter how much he wanted to make her come again. The sun was hanging low in the sky. It wasn’t safe to be out here. And it was too cold now that there was no longer a lust-fueled inferno pouring off of his body.

He stood and set her on her feet. She held on to him as she gained her balance, her gaze fixed on his.

“What?” he finally asked, as it became clear that something was on her mind.

She gave him the slightest shake of her head. “Nothing. We should get moving. It’s cold.”

He helped her gather her clothes, offering her his ruined shirt to clean away the wet mess he’d left between her thighs.

“Sorry about ripping your shirt,” she said, a sheepish grin on her mouth.

“No, you’re not. You liked it.”

“Maybe a little. I’ve never torn a man’s clothes off before.” She pulled her panties and jeans on, covering the most tempting ass he’d ever seen.

He pulled his own jeans on and buckled his sword in place. “Feel free to do it again whenever you like.”

Her smile brightened his whole world and warmed him all the way to his bones. It struck him in that moment that he could love her if she let him. Part of him already did, maybe, though to admit it would make him too vulnerable. Once the colors in the luceria solidified, he wouldn’t survive without their bond, and the last thing he wanted was to tie her to him with guilt.

No, it was his duty to her to make sure that didn’t happen. She deserved a choice that wasn’t swayed by her feeling responsible for his life. So he’d hold his heart closed, his thoughts tight, and do his best not to fall in love with her.

*   *   *

Rory felt . . . cheated. The sex had been great—that man nearly blew the top of her head off making her come that hard—but it wasn’t like before. Cain had held back, and she didn’t like it. She liked feeling what he did, knowing what turned him on and how her touch drove him crazy. She liked the intimacy of their connection and knowing that he’d never shared that with any other woman before. That he was holding out on her now pissed her off and made her feel insecure, which pissed her off even more.

The sun was low on the horizon, giving each blade of dead grass a long shadow. They headed back toward the house, him all shirtless and beautiful under his gaping leather jacket.

Given the chance, she’d gladly rip another shirt from his body and see where it took them. But now was not the time for that. Now was the time for reality, for impending danger and tough decisions.

Reality sucked donkey dick.

Rory wanted to hold his hand or put her arm in his—anything to connect them—but he was too far away, his gaze watchful on their surroundings as if expecting trouble. It made her nervous, driving away the languid heat of their erotic interlude.

“What happens to me if we find the person who blocks my visions before we kill the demon in my head?”

“I can only guess.”

“So guess.”

He spared her a quick glance before he hurried ahead and opened the back door for her. “If you’re not able to pull on my power to defend yourself, then there’s no end to the damage the demon could do. He could simply haunt your dreams, tormenting you for fun, or he could use your body against your will, wreaking untold havoc.”

“How long do I have before Ronan’s cage fails?”

“Years. Hours. There’s no way to know.”

She slipped past him, dragging in the scent of his bare chest and leather jacket as she went. So yummy. It went to her head and rolled around there, derailing her train of thought for a second. “So until we kill it, I’m a ticking time bomb to everyone around me.”

“Yes.”

At least he didn’t bother to lie.

“Including you,” she guessed.

“Better me than someone weaker.”

That was just like him to think of it in those terms—like his safety was an afterthought.

She turned to face him. “It would kill me if I hurt you. We need to find that demon.”

“Ronan may know where he is, or be able to locate him. He’ll wake soon now. I think we should wait for him.”

“Is he a walking time bomb, too? I mean, he’s got the same demon in his brain, right?”

“Yes, but his mental control is better than yours.”

“Because I’m a woman?”

“No, because you’re a Theronai. Sanguinar have abilities that exceed ours. I meant no insult.”

Too bad. A nice, screaming fight would have gone a long way toward easing her growing tension.

“You need to rest while you can.”

“I feel fine,” she said.

“For now. The power I fed into you will fade soon, leaving you just as weak as you were before. You really don’t want that to happen at the wrong time, do you?”

“No. But if I go to sleep, I’m afraid you’ll leave.”

Cain shook his head. “I won’t leave you alone right now. Until that demon is dead, you’re at risk. And if Ronan comes with me, then you’ll have to come, too. Unless you’d rather I call someone else?”

She didn’t want anyone else around. Even now, she could see the fleeting images of a couple in the distance as they sat down to dinner. Once Ronan was up, she’d start getting feedback from him, too. Even Cain fed her visions once in a while. The only thing that stopped it all was his touch, and she really doubted that whoever he’d send to take his place as her guardian would have the same soothing effect.

“I’m going with you,” she said.

“Then you should sleep.”

“Can’t. Too wired. But I’ll lie on the couch and rest until we go.”

He followed her into the living room, and the next thing she knew, she felt his presence brush her mind, sending her into sleep.

Her last conscious thought was that she was going to have a long talk with him about boundaries when she woke up.

Chapter 23

J
oseph looked up from his desk as Tynan walked in shortly after sunset. Anger vibrated through the Sanguinar’s lean frame. “None of my people show any signs of having taken the dead woman’s blood.”

“I thought you were sure she was drained.”

“I was. I am.”

“What about the blisters? I’ve seen the effects your efforts to filter Tori’s blood left on you. Those would be really hard to miss.”

“I missed nothing. Every Sanguinar who was inside the walls of Dabyr at the time of Beth’s murder has been accounted for. I saw no signs on any of them.”

“So where does that leave us? Could a Dorjan have drained Beth of blood?”

Tynan shook his head and eased himself into a chair as if sitting too fast might make him shatter. “I didn’t want to raise suspicions, so I was careful in my investigation. I could, however, question them more thoroughly.”

“You mean search their memories,” guessed Joseph.

“Yes.” The single word spoke volumes of his disgust for the idea.

Joseph sighed and called Nicholas, who had spent the last several hours searching through security camera footage. “Any leads?”

“Yeah. Just found something—something you’re going to want to see.”

“In my office. Tynan is here, too.”

“Good. Maybe he can shed some light.”

Joseph hung up and asked Tynan, “What about the sleeping Sanguinar? Is there any chance one of them woke up for a midnight snack?”

“I checked the sleeping vaults. All were there. None showed any signs of tainted blood.” The way he said it, with a weary hesitation in his voice told Joseph there was something else to say.

“But . . . ?”

“But two more of my people are near death. I hadn’t realized how frail they’d become. I need to go hunting for them. The blood available here is simply not enough.”

“You can’t leave. No one can leave until we find who killed Beth.”

“Can I at least request one of the Sanguinar in the field come home, then?”

“Of course. And I can give you some more blood to tide them over until help arrives. It’s not like I’m headed into battle anytime soon.” No matter how much he hated stagnating behind this desk.

“Thank you, Joseph. Your generosity will not be forgotten.”

Joseph knew a thing or two about desperation. And while he didn’t trust all of the Sanguinar, Tynan had proven himself willing to sacrifice for Joseph’s race over and over recently. A little donation was the least he could do.

Nicholas walked into the office, a laptop clutched in his hands and a furious glare on his scarred face. He plunked it down on Joseph’s desk, aligning it so that both Tynan and Joseph could see. “I caught some video footage of someone walking into Beth’s suite.”

“Who was it?” Joseph demanded.

“No clue. But check this out.” Nicholas brought up a split image. On the left was the photo of the man who had sabotaged the cameras a few months ago, allowing Dabyr’s walls to be breached. The traitor who’d done that had yet to be found.

On the right was another image of a man. Like in the older image, all that was visible was the back of a head that was cloaked by a hooded sweatshirt. There was not even a glimpse of his face, as if he knew how to avoid the cameras.

Both men were wearing the same brown sweatshirt.

“The traitor is the one who killed Beth,” said Nicholas.

Joseph fell silent in shock, unwilling to voice the truth that hung so glaring and obvious in front of them.

“It was one of my people,” whispered Tynan. “A Sanguinar is our traitor.”

Nicholas’s hand settled on his sword. Joseph doubted the man even realized the silent threat.

“We don’t know that for sure,” said Joseph, hoping to defuse the situation before it got out of hand. “That’s only a guess.”

“No,” said Tynan, gliding to his feet. “You do not understand blood the way I do. I’m telling you that Beth was forcefully drained. If the man in these images is the same, then it is one of my own.”

“I ran the photos through a program, comparing height and proportions. Everything was the same except the man who went to Beth’s door was quite a bit thinner than the one who disabled the cameras. Much thinner than the man who walked out of her suite.”

Tynan’s body shook with rage. “He was desperate for blood. Starving.”

“How many Sanguinar are under our roof?” asked Joseph.

“Dozens,” said Nicholas.

“Most of whom are sleeping,” added Tynan.

Joseph gave Tynan a level stare. “You know what I’m going to ask you to do, don’t you?”

Tynan nodded. “I will question them directly.”

“If they resist?” asked Nicholas.

“I would like to say that I would subdue them, but I’m far too weak for that. I’m afraid I’m going to need backup.”

Nicholas nodded. “Sure. Whatever you need, man.”

The hair along Joseph’s arms lifted in awareness the second before Lyka appeared in his open doorway. Just seeing her sent a surge of relief washing through him, cooling the searing, furious corners of his soul.

Her golden gaze swept over the gathering, and she came to a rocking halt. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Joseph wanted to tell her to come in, but he knew better than to waste his breath. If she was here, it wasn’t because she wanted to see him. In fact, the paleness of her complexion and fine tremor running through her fingers told him that the visit wasn’t for fun.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Do you need something?”

She looked at the other men gathered and her lips went tight and flat, as if she was trying to hold back what she’d come here to say.

Joseph knew better than to send his witnesses away, but the chance to be alone with her, even if she hovered well out of reach, was too much for him to resist. He looked at Tynan. “Go do what you need to do. Nicholas will back you up.”

The men left. Lyka stayed in the doorway, gripping the frame so tight it drove the blood from her slender fingertips. “I don’t know how to say this.”

“Say what?”

“I’m not even sure you’ll believe me.”

“Just say it. Whatever it is. Then we’ll go from there.”

“I’ve been babysitting Ella’s son Ethan for a while now, taking care of him while she worked. She asked if she could stay in my suite for a few days. I told her I’d be happy to have her, that I’d be happy to watch the baby whenever she needed. She’s dealing with so much right now, you know?” Her chest heaved with emotion, and for a second, Joseph was completely distracted from his duties by the sight. The swell of her breasts was emphasized by the clinging sweater she wore.

“Are you okay?” he asked, resisting the urge to take even one step toward her. He couldn’t stand the thought of her fleeing. He needed her here for some reason he couldn’t name, calming his nerves and easing his nearly constant headache.