Living Nightmare (13 page)

“Too late. It already has. This is Thomas’s death wish, and I’m honor-bound to uphold it. From now on, you’re my daughter, and I plan to make sure everyone knows it.”

 

Nika woke up suddenly, as if someone had shouted her name. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. She’d felt this before when someone was in need.

She opened herself up, reaching out with her mind to find the source of that need. Maybe Tori had called for her and was ready to let her in again.

Nika lay quiet and still in a bed not her own. Madoc’s scent clung to the sheets, comforting her, making her feel stronger, braver.

Nika!
The call came again. It was a ragged cry of pain, tight with fear and so powerful it left her mind reeling.

It wasn’t Tori. For a moment, Nika suffered a stab of disappointment until she realized the masculine nature of that cry for help. It was Madoc.

She flung the covers off and hurried toward him, desperate to get to him before it was too late. Whatever was wrong was killing him, sapping his strength and his will to live.

Sunlight filtered in through heavy curtains covering the windows, allowing her to see where she went.

Nika didn’t have to go far—just into the next room. He was lying on his side on the living room floor right outside the bedroom door. His body curled in on itself, shaking with pain. His sword lay within arm’s reach, unsheathed, as if he’d been intending to use it. A sheet was twisted about his hips, but the rest of him was beautifully bare, displaying powerful muscles that tightened and bunched as they clenched in his sleep.

Suddenly, the urge to touch him was irresistible. Her hands began to shake against the need to slide over his naked skin. Her body warmed until she was sure her nightgown would lift off of her body from the waves of heat radiating out from her. Not that she’d mind if it did. The idea of pressing herself against him while naked made her nipples tingle and tighten. She’d never felt this way about anyone before in her life, and it was as unsettling as it was exciting.

She knelt beside him and splayed her trembling hand on his shoulder.

The warmth of his skin always shocked her, and for a moment, she closed her eyes and let that delicious heat sink into her. She spread her hands flat and let them slide over the masculine contours of his body, touching him as he’d never allowed her to do while he was awake.

She didn’t know why he avoided her touch, but right now, that hardly seemed to matter in the face of so much sensation. Her body was rejoicing, every cell singing in praise as it soaked in his heat. She could get lost in the sensation of flesh on flesh, though something in the back of her mind warned her that wasn’t why she was here. She had a job to do, but couldn’t quite remember what it was.

The curve of his shoulder was hard and smooth. It led to his thick neck, where the luminescent band of his luceria lay against his skin. The necklace shimmered in time with the beat of his heart, drawing her eye, making her ache for something she couldn’t name.

Andra wore Paul’s luceria now, and everyone here had told her that when she found the right man, she’d wear his, too.

She wanted Madoc to be that man, despite his abrasive nature. Despite the fact that he didn’t want her.

Nika slid her finger over the band, enjoying the slippery feel of it, wishing it was hers and that she could keep it against her skin forever.

Surely that feeling wasn’t normal. She’d never felt that way toward any of the other Theronai who’d come to her over the past few months. She’d never been drawn to them, wishing for things that had no names, feeling the loss of their presence when they left her side. Only Madoc made her feel that way.

Maybe he was wrong about their not being right for each other. Maybe if she tried, she could prove to him they were compatible. Maybe then he wouldn’t mind being near her.

She gave the luceria an experimental tug. Andra had told her all about how she’d done the same and Paul’s luceria had fallen off easily.

Madoc’s didn’t budge.

She pulled harder, but all she seemed to do was make the section where her fingers touched fade even more, losing the color Madoc seemed to think was so important.

Defeat made Nika’s body slump, driving the air from her lungs. She wanted so much to feel like she belonged in this world—that she was more than just the crazy girl no one could touch. She’d come so far, fighting every day to regain another slice of herself. She’d forced herself to eat and get stronger, to get out of bed and explore her new home. But she’d never truly fit in here. She wasn’t human, and yet she wasn’t a Theronai, either. At least, not one who was able to fight the war that raged on in secret outside these walls.

She’d spent most of her life as a useless drain on her sister. The only person who’d ever truly needed her was Tori, and now she was pulling away, too.

After so many years of being with Tori through all the horrible things she’d endured, Nika wasn’t sure she even knew how to be alone. If Tori abandoned her, what would she do?

Nika wasn’t going to let it happen. She was going to bring Tori home, where they could be together all the time. She’d take care of her the way Andra had taken care of Nika. They’d be a family again.

As the image appeared in her mind, Madoc was part of it. In her fantasy world, he would become part of their family, too, the way Paul had.

Of course, fantasy and reality were two different things, and after the years she’d spent learning to separate the two, Nika knew the chances of that happening were slim. His luceria didn’t respond to her, and if he didn’t find the woman who could make it respond soon, he was going to die.
That
was reality.

His lifemark was nearly bare and completely still. She’d seen the other men’s trees sway with the breeze outside, but not Madoc’s. Almost all the leaves had fallen, and those that were left seemed ... wrong. They were flat. Dead.

She knew that losing all the leaves on his lifemark was a bad thing. It meant his time was nearly up. Once the last leaf fell, his soul would begin to die and he would go to his death—one way or another.

The thought of no more Madoc in her life scared Nika more than any Synestryn she’d ever encountered. She needed him, and her hope was that one day he’d need her, too—that she’d be more to him than just some crazy woman he had to protect.

Her tactile journey led her down his right arm to his wide, calloused palm and thick, blunt fingers. Small scars dotted the backs of his hands and forearms—a testament to his years in battle. Strength radiated out from his hand, even in sleep. She’d often envied the strength of the men around her, but with Madoc, envy was never a problem. With him, she felt something different, deeper. It wasn’t so much that she wanted to have his strength as it was that she wanted that strength to touch her, surround her, and keep her safe.

But now, holding his hand in hers, all she could think about was what it would feel like for him to touch her. Like a woman. Like Paul touched Andra when he thought Nika wasn’t looking.

A slow, needy kind of heat built up inside her at the thought. She’d never been with a man before. Her curiosity had driven her to watch other couples—to slide inside their minds to see what it was they hid from her behind closed doors. She’d learned so many secret things that way, but never before had she thought she might like having someone do those things to her. Until now.

An image of Madoc’s hands moving over her naked body filled her mind. She could almost feel him cup her breasts, feel him grip her hips as his powerful body moved against her. Inside her.

Desire swelled inside her until she wasn’t sure her body could hold it. An odd fluttering tickled her lower abdomen, and her grip on Madoc’s hand tightened.

One way or another, before Madoc ran away again, she was going to seduce him. She had no idea how she would manage it, but she’d find a way. He was going to be hers, even if she could keep him for only one night.

Nika lifted his hand and pressed it against her cheek. His fingers felt good, but the ugly matte black ring he wore seemed to dig into her skin. That ring was cold, despite his body heat, and it irritated her skin. Surely the thing was uncomfortable for him to wear.

Nika hated touching it, but she grabbed the ring and started to pull it off when he moaned in his sleep, reminding her why she was here. It certainly wasn’t so she could fondle him.

He needed her. He’d called out to her, and she’d been so distracted by his body she’d nearly forgotten.

She guessed that calling for help was something he’d do only while asleep, when his sense of pride was dampened, and there was no way Nika could deny him. She knew their fates were tied together, even if he and everyone else refused to believe her. Even if that blasted luceria didn’t believe her. She
knew
.

The fact that he needed her even a little made her feel stronger than she had in years. She wasn’t going to let him down.

Nika released her mental guards, abandoned caution, and flung herself from her body into his.

Pain slammed into her, nearly knocking her back out of his mind. Screaming agony writhed inside him, scraping at his mind with sharp claws, shredding his soul until it bled.

She had no idea how he could stand it. Clearly, this was why he’d called for her. The Synestryn were doing something to him, torturing him.

The fact that she’d taken time to touch him when he was suffering like this made her want to shrivel in self-disgust. How could she have been so selfish?

She had to help, but she couldn’t possibly fight pain this intense, so instead, she tried to accept it and let it slide over her.

It didn’t work.The pain pounded into her, battering at her as it tried to drive her back. A part of her huddled against the pain, weeping in despair of ever escaping it. If her body were here, it would have been ripped to shreds, torn into pieces too small to ever be put back together. How Madoc could survive it, she had no idea, but she knew she had to help him. She couldn’t let him endure this on his own.

She forced herself to relax more, to let the pain slide past her like water, leaving her unaffected. She imagined herself as a tiny pinpoint of nothingness—too small to be a threat, with no surface for the pain to push against.

Slowly, the agony began to fade. The dark talons scraped by her, missing the tiny little bit of nothing she had become. The power of that pain still pushed against her, forcing her to go along with it, but she could concentrate now and find the source.

It was like swimming against a current, and each bit of progress she made was hard-won and exhausting. Slowly, she inched toward the source of his pain, determined to slay it. After what seemed like days, she eventually made her way to the source.

Before her loomed something she’d never seen before in any of the people she’d visited. It was huge. Powerful. Hundreds of tentacles had sprouted from a pulsing, black mass to weave through Madoc like acidic vines. Everywhere they were, there was pain—waves of it radiating out so that no part of him went without agony.

As she neared, the tendrils seemed to reach for her as if drawn to her presence inside him. Whatever these things were, they
knew
her. She could feel it—sense their hunger to touch and possess her.

How was she going to fight something like that?

She had no clue, but the only hope she had was to follow one of the tendrils back to the center of the mass and slaughter it.

Moving along, evading the twitching movements of the tendril, she watched as it grew thicker and stronger the farther she went. It lunged toward her, but she flinched away, dodging it. She didn’t know what would happen if one of these things got hold of her, but she wasn’t willing to risk it to find out.

Slowly, she fought her way against the current of pain until she saw the center mass of this . . . thing. There was one small spot that was different from the rest—one bright, glowing patch the color of summer sunshine.

Nika was drawn toward that spot, unable to stop herself from moving nearer, from reaching out to brush against it and bathe in that light.

The tiny speck that was now her consciousness slid into that light, and instantly, she felt a sense of utter contentment. Complete and perfect peace. This warm, glowing light engulfed her, cradled her, and held her close. It whispered to her of hope, love, and joy, and she believed every word it spoke into her. She could stay here for the rest of her life and be happy. Here, she needed nothing. Time meant nothing. All the trials of the world fell away. Here, she was literally in love.

It was at that moment that she realized where she was. This black mass of wicked tentacles with its one single, perfect spot was Madoc’s soul.

Shock rippled through her, but it was distant enough that she wasn’t bothered like she knew she should be. There was something wrong here—something she wasn’t seeing, but the urge to ignore that and simply bask in the light was nearly impossible to fight.

Nika spun around, feeling like a child with no worries in the world. The edges of this glowing spot drew inward, shrinking around to hold her close.

That was when the realization hit her. This perfect shiny spot in Madoc’s soul was shrinking. The festering black agony was eating away at it, consuming the light, snuffing it out.

His soul was dying despite the fact that there were still leaves on his lifemark.

Horror exploded within her, sending her reeling. It yanked her out of that bright, perfect place, through the hideous, writhing tentacles, and back into her own body.

“. . . hell do you think you’re doing?” Madoc’s angry voice filled her ears, too loud and grating.

She flinched away from the noise, wishing she could go back into the blissful silence.

“You were inside my head, weren’t you?”