Sanctum (Guards of the Shadowlands, Book 1) (31 page)

“There were these big bowls of incense near the table they used as their altar or whatever you call it. They were trying to get me on the table, and I threw the embers at them. It was the only thing I could think of at the time. Kind of regretting it now, though.”

He rubbed a sharp-smelling ointment onto my palm with the lightest of touches. I took a few deep breaths to keep from passing out from the pain.

“You amaze me.”

“You admire my capacity to injure myself or to take a beating and keep going?” I turned my head to try to read his expression, but his head was bowed.

“Both. Things must have been desperate if you had to do this to yourself. They got very close, didn’t they?”

“Yeah. I’d be in the Mazikin homeland right now if you hadn’t set those explosions off when you did.”

Malachi began to wind gauze around my hand. “Several Mazikin came out of the warehouse shortly after you went in. They spotted us setting the charges, so we had to silence them. One of them must have slipped past us and found Ibram—and I guess he had a small army with him. All hell broke loose after that. I’m sorry it took me so long to get to you. I thought there might be more time.”

“It’s all right. I thought there would be, too. But it took Sil only a few seconds to spot me and only a few more to figure out I’d just been with you.”

Malachi froze in the middle of taping the bandage closed over the back of my hand. “What?”

“They said they could smell you all over me.”

“I…I didn’t think of that. I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the ceiling.

“Why should you be sorry? I was the one who insisted you touch me, right? I’m
not
sorry about it. I can’t be, even if I try.”
I
want your scent on me every day from now on
. I shook my head to clear it. “It kind of got them agitated. Especially Sil and Juri.”

Malachi looked down at me, over my body and all the damage that had been done, and his expression filled with a new horror. “Juri?”

“I think Sil moved up the timetable for resurrecting him when he saw I was there. When Juri saw me…you know. He seemed to think I was his property. But he also seemed pretty eager to get back at you.” I shuddered and stared at Malachi’s face, letting it block out the memory of Juri’s.

Malachi’s eyes were dark with something I couldn’t quite read. “That was Juri in a new body, wasn’t it? He ripped your pants. He was trying to—”

I couldn’t bear to hear the word come off his tongue, so I interrupted. “Yes.” I looked down at my hand, still throbbing but now neatly bandaged. I swallowed. “Did I kill him?”

He laid a hand on my cheek and then buried his fingers in my wet hair. He looked at me with this sad sympathy. “Yes.”

I took in a sharp breath. I had killed a man. I smashed his face with a hunk of cement. I made his heart stop beating. And I…I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t feel triumphant. I didn’t feel sorry.

Malachi’s fingers tightened in my hair. “Did he…before you…”

“No, he didn’t….”

His shoulders sagged as some of the tension drained from them. “Good.”

I looked at him cautiously. “And if he had?”

He pinned me with an intense stare. “It wouldn’t change how I look at you at all. But if I ever meet him again, I will make him suffer for what he tried to do.”

He smoothed a hand over my hair. “Lela…” He sighed and shook his head. He was silent for a full minute before he said, “I was afraid I’d never see you again. When Nadia came out and you weren’t behind her, I panicked.”

I chuckled hoarsely. “The great Malachi is capable of panic?”

He leaned over and kissed my cheek. His jaw scraped against my skin as he whispered in my ear, “Where you are concerned, it appears I am capable of just about anything.”

Chills raced up my spine, along with total confusion. I couldn’t understand why he was being kind after I had screwed everything up so badly. He drew back to look in my eyes, and his expression was crystal clear. He was seeking permission, begging me to invite him in.

Guilt and sorrow and love and need and regret all tumbled through my mind. I didn’t want to think anymore, especially as his breath skimmed over my skin, but I didn’t want to make yet another mistake. So many things were my fault. Sil escaping. Ana dying. And Malachi seemed to be paying for all of it.

“I made so many mistakes tonight. I am so sorry—”

I said those final words against his lips and swallowed the rest as he kissed me. My mind went blissfully blank as his mouth moved with mine. No pain, no more fear. Just him. Just him and me and an open Countryside, heaven, and all the time in the world.

“I don’t need apologies,” he breathed against my mouth. “I need this.”

I wrapped my arm around his neck and pulled him closer. His hand stroked across my ribs and slid down to my belly.

I gasped with pain as it all came crashing back.

He jerked up, panting. His eyes widened as his gaze settled on my belly. I looked down and winced. Three narrow trails of blood stained the front of my pajama top.

Malachi’s face took on that diamond-hard expression again. He unbuttoned my top, briskly knocking away my feeble attempts to stop him. He sucked in a breath through his teeth when he saw the wounds. His hand flexed over my hip, firmly holding me in place as I tried to turn away. “Is this what I think it is?”

I cringed at his tone and the deadly look in his eyes. I nodded. His eyes flashed with rage. “You should have told me about this immediately.”

“It could wait. I had to get Nadia settled, and you had more important things to do.”

He cursed as he dug through the satchel and pulled out another tin of ointment. He opened it and proceeded to smear its contents all over my bare stomach, scratches and all. He was less gentle this time, and whatever he was spreading on my skin stung like a mother and made me hiss from the pain.

He glared at me, but I didn’t miss the glint of worry in his eyes. “Why do you do this to yourself? Don’t you remember what I told you about Mazikin scratches? We have to go. Now.” He stood up.

I grabbed his hand. “No. Nadia’s sleeping. She needs to rest.”

“And you need Raphael as soon as possible.” He tore his hand loose and stalked around the room, gathering our belongings.

The idea of trekking through the city right now was overwhelming, and I knew Nadia needed to sleep. She had looked so tired. “Look, I need to rest. Please.” He continued walking, strapping on armor with every step. “Just a few hours. I got pretty beaten up today.
Malachi
.”

He froze in his tracks and turned to me. “You have two hours. Then we’re going.”

“You aren’t staying?”

He fastened the remaining buckles with a wrenching tug and was fully armed within a few moments. He went to the door and yanked it open, not bothering to turn and look at me.

“No. I need to go kill something.”

A FEW HOURS LATER
we were trudging south along the cobblestone road. When Malachi had returned to the apartment and woke me up, the look on his face confirmed that he was still furious with me. Now I was doing my best to pretend like I wasn’t in horrible pain, because something about it put him in a homicidal mood. As a result, my teeth ached from swallowing back the whimpers and groans that tried to escape with every step.

I held Nadia’s hand. She was unlikely to keep walking without being led. Malachi strode silently by my side but had not looked at me since we left the apartment. We reached a major intersection, and he turned left. I followed his path with my
eyes and looked up to see the dark tower looming in the distance.

I froze. “No.”

Malachi looked over his shoulder at me. “This is the quickest way. We’ll be back at the Station by nightfall.”

I shook my head as my hand tightened over Nadia’s. “She can’t go through the tower. She won’t make it.”

“You must see Raphael soon.” Malachi closed the distance between us in less than a second and laid a hand across my forehead. “You’re already starting to run a fever. This infection is serious, and it
will
kill you.”

I took a step back and shook him off. “There’s no choice. Just get us there as quickly as possible without going through downtown.”

He grasped my shoulders. “It will take almost two days to go around. You may not have that much time.”

“What are the odds I’ll get to the Station alive if we go around downtown?”

“Less than twenty percent.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh ye of little faith. I thought I amazed you, but obviously you don’t give me much credit.” His grip on me turned steely, letting me know I was sorely testing his patience. “Fine. Twenty percent. Now, look at Nadia. Look at her.”

He did his own eye roll but complied. Nadia stared straight ahead, not paying attention to our conversation. Her pupils were pinpoints once again. Tears stained her face. Malachi looked back at me, but his rigid expression gave nothing away.

“Tell me the odds she’ll make it through the tower. Look me in the eye and tell me that freaking monster building won’t eat my friend,” I said harshly, though all I wanted was to fall into him, to comfort both of us in the face of this hopeless situation.

He shook his head stiffly. “I’ve already lost Ana,” he said hoarsely. His hands slid from my shoulders to my neck, resting there lightly, his thumbs brushing my skin. He lowered his forehead to mine and closed his eyes. “If I lose you…” He abruptly released me and turned his back. He marched straight ahead, taking the route that would allow us to avoid downtown—and the dark tower. I followed with heavy feet, weighed down by my tainted victory.

To pass the time, I spoke to Nadia, urging her to recall the times we’d had together. I babbled on and on—about the first time she took me to Newport and made me eat a quahog, about the time she’d tried to teach me one of her cheers and I’d fallen on my ass, about the time we should have been studying for a history exam but spent the evening trying to build a model of the Eiffel Tower out of Twizzlers. I kept looking for a sign, any glint of growing awareness, any hint she was coming back to herself. But she remained unreachable. Tears seeped constantly from her eyes, and the only time she spoke was to ask when it
would end. My chest throbbed with anger and fear every time those words left her mouth. This was
not
how it was supposed to go.

Malachi set the pace, and it was brutal. He didn’t ask us to run, but he didn’t allow us to take breaks either. He allowed me to stop briefly to force some water down Nadia’s throat, but that was it. His expression was cold and his voice was icy. He did not make eye contact.

I wondered if it was better for him that way, if it was what he should have done ages ago. I wondered if it would protect him from what I was feeling now. From the ache in my chest every time his eyes slid past me without looking. From the lance of pain through my heart every time he brushed past me without stopping. From the sting of tears in my eyes as I thought about how badly I wanted to lean on him, to feel his hands on me, to taste his mouth on mine.

I supposed I should have been glad. This was good for him, right? I had taken so much from him, and now he wasn’t going to let me take any more.

As time passed, I lost count of the rounds of fever and chills, each one leaving me weaker. I kept my eyes glued to Malachi’s purposeful strides as he led us through the city. As long as he was in front of me, I stumbled forward, towing Nadia along. It felt like I was running after him but couldn’t quite keep up. My heart raced. I couldn’t catch my breath. My feet grew farther
and farther away as my head stretched from my neck like a helium balloon on an endless string.

And then I was amazed to find myself on the ground. I had no idea how I got there.

I wasn’t there long. Malachi lifted me from the street, and then I was in his arms. He didn’t say a word.

“Make sure Nadia keeps walking,” I mumbled.

He nodded.

My head bobbed against his shoulder. I stared at the side of his face. “I’m sorry I’m hurting you.”

He continued walking, his face hard, refusing to look at me.

I wanted to touch him, to stroke my fingers down his cheek, but I couldn’t lift my arms. I sighed. “You’re so freaking beautiful, Malachi. I could look at you for a million years and never get tired of it.”

The muscle in his jaw began to twitch. I squinted to bring it into focus. Everything was blurry. I giggled, finding my sudden inability to see terrifically funny. But some rational part of me knew it was a very bad sign. It might be the last time I ever got to look at him. I found myself desperately wishing I had my camera.

“In case I don’t get to tell you later, thank you for everything.”

“Shut up.” He clutched me against his chest. “I don’t want to hear this right now.”

“You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to touch…me,” I wheezed. I tried to take a deep breath, but the air was too thick. It was drowning me.

“Lela, you’re delirious. Save your breath.” His voice was harsh, but I heard its shakiness.

“Whatever you say.”

He snorted. “‘Whatever you say’? Now I know you’re delirious.” But he lifted me higher and held me closer, tucking my head into the crook of his neck. “We’ll be back at the Station in a few hours,” he said softly. “Stay with me.”

I smiled against his skin. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE
. That’s the last thing I remember saying before the world bled black and the walls caved in, suffocating and burying me. Flashes of memory interrupted the long, slow slide into the abyss. Most were of Malachi. The part of my brain that remained functional mused over that irony, considering how briefly I’d known him. It was hard to care, to call anything else to mind. Only his face mattered. It was the only thing that came to me without effort, like reflex, like breathing. Wherever I was going, part of him would go with me. Willingly given or not, it was mine to cradle, to carry, to sustain.

Voices cut through the fog from time to time, but the only one I recognized was his. I couldn’t understand what he was
saying, but I knew he was there with me, wherever I was. Nothing hurt except the nagging regret that, despite all he’d given me, I’d given him so little. I wanted the chance to give him something, to give him the best of me, as pathetic as it was, damaged and broken, warped at the edges, hardly worth having. I decided that if I had the chance, if he asked, if he needed, it was his.