She was always moving. Always running.
He didn’t even know why she was so afraid of him. She’d never stopped long enough for him to find out.
Zach parked the wheelchair near a bench along the sidewalk. The grounds here were parklike—perfectly trimmed grass interspersed with beds of flowers and huge, towering trees covered the land. Their new head gardener apparently had a knack for his job. The place had never looked nicer.
Torr stared straight ahead, not bothering to turn toward Zach even though he could still move his head. The rest of him was paralyzed, and already, the heavy muscles that had powered his body were shrinking and fading away, leaving only a hint of what he once had been. The decay had been so fast, Zach was sure the man wasn’t going to last much longer.
“How you holding up, man?” asked Zach.
Torr’s amber eyes glowed with anger. “How do you think? How well would you be holding up if your body was a useless pile of bones and you had a tube up your dick so you didn’t wet yourself?”
Zach wanted to offer Torr peace, but he had none to spare. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, we’re all f**king sorry. All of us except Joseph. He denied my request again.” Rage vibrated in his tone, and a hint of something else. Something helpless and desperate.
“He’s not going to let you die yet. You haven’t given the Sanguinar enough time.”
“If you were sitting here, you’d know that was a lie. Every day in this body is an eternity. It’s time to let it end.”
Zach clasped Torr’s arm, even though he knew the other man couldn’t feel it. “We can’t give up on you yet.”
“So instead, you torture me? How kind.”
“How would you feel if it was me sitting there? Would you give up on me?”
Torr turned his head then. Torr glared at Zach with so much fury lurking in his eyes that Zach almost had to look away. But he didn’t. He owed his friend more than cheap denial and avoidance.
“If you were sitting in this chair, I’d love you enough to slit your throat and watch you die.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You’d be out there searching for that thing that bit you. You’d be bleeding into the mouth of a leech every other day. You’d be fighting to save my life.”
Torr looked away and his voice dropped to a quiet, solemn tone. “You’re wrong, but I forgive you.”
It sounded as if he were saying good-bye, and Zach felt a stab of worry. “You’re not going to die, Torr. We’re going to fix this thing.”
“You’d better hurry, then.”
“Why? Because you’re going to give up?”
“I already have. If Joseph won’t kill me, I’ll do the damn job myself.”
“How are you going to do that? No one is going to help you.”
“I heard about the women Paul brought here. Grace told me she had to go help because one of them was dying because she couldn’t eat.”
Zach put the pieces together. “No f**king way.”
“I’ve stopped eating. Don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Guess I just wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“Joseph won’t let it happen.”
“I’m not giving him a choice. I’m done. Four hundred years is enough for any man.”
Zach couldn’t let his friend give up like this. He knew Torr was suffering, but if he just held out a little longer, the Sanguinar would figure out something. “Don’t do it. Come with me to find Lexi.”
Torr gave a humorless laugh. “Sure. Why the hell not? Just strap me to the roof of your car and we’ll go on a road trip.”
“I mean it. Let’s get you out of here for a while. The change of scenery might do you some good.”
Torr’s jaw clenched. “The only thing that’s going to do me some good is a sword through my heart.”
“No. We’ve started finding our women again. What if yours is out there, too?”
“What if she is? It’s not going to make a difference now. I’m not going to tie down a female when she might be able to save a man who can actually do some good.”
“I can’t believe you’re giving up.”
“No? Try sitting here for a while and you’ll believe it. I’m done, Zach. I’ve had a good run. It’s time to let go. I have.”
“I’m not giving up on you yet.”
“Fine. Waste your time. I just don’t care anymore.”
“I do. I want to help you get through this.”
Torr stared out into the night, but he was seeing something else. “There is one thing you can do for me.”
“I’m not going to kill you.”
His mouth flattened in frustration. “No. This is something else.”
“Name it.”
“I don’t want Grace taking care of me anymore.”
“Why not? Isn’t she treating you well? I thought she was—”
“That’s the problem. She’s too nice. Too innocent. She shouldn’t have to see what I’m going to do to myself.”
“Then don’t do it.”
“I’ve already made up my mind,” said Torr.
“Sorry. I’m not going to make this easier on you. As far as I’m concerned, Grace is staying.”
Torr’s face darkened with humiliation. “I don’t want her around, damn it.”
Zach was beginning to suspect there was more to it than Torr’s concern for her. “You like her.”
“I’m protecting her, as my vow demands. She’s too soft for her own good.”
Torr felt something for the woman. Zach was almost sure of it. Almost. “I like ’em soft. I could take her off your hands for a while, I guess. Hunting for Lexi has kept me so busy it’s been a long time since I got laid.”
Torr’s nostrils flared in anger and his voice whipped out like a lash. “Don’t you f**king touch her.”
Zach grinned. “I knew it. You do like her.”
“You are such a bastard,” growled Torr. “You’d better pray I never walk again, because the first thing I’d do is kick your ass.”
Zach crossed his arms over his chest and gave Torr a taunting grin. He hadn’t gotten that sanity check he needed, but he’d found Torr’s reason to live. It was good enough for him.
Andra was gone when Paul woke up. He reached for her before he remembered what had happened. By the time his hand hit the cool, vacant sheets, he remembered everything he’d done and already knew she wouldn’t be there.
He got out of bed, wrapped the sheet around his hips, and sought her out. He couldn’t face her right now, not after what he’d almost done, but he had to know she was safe and close by.
He found Andra in Nika’s room, lying next to her with her back to the door, stroking Nika’s white hair. Soft, comforting words rose from her, but Paul couldn’t hear what they were. Grace was sitting in the corner of the room, knitting or crocheting or something else involving lots of yarn. She hummed to herself as her fingers moved so fast they blurred.
Grace looked up at him, finally noticing him, and her body tightened as if she were about to jump up. He didn’t know why she was nervous around him, but he held his free hand up and shook his head, telling her to stay where she was.
He needed a shower and some time to pull himself together and figure out how to fix what he’d done.
Disgust left a bitter taste at the back of his throat that wouldn’t go away. He’d showered and dressed and still had no clue how to approach Andra with his apology for his lapse in judgment.
He wasn’t even sure she really knew what he’d been trying to do to her. She knew it hurt, but she might not know why.
He’d been ready to enslave her. Even the thought made him sick.
A knock at his door pulled him from his angst. He finished strapping his sword around his h*ps and went to answer it.
Cain stood there, filling the doorway with his bulk. His moss green eyes were dull and red, as if he hadn’t slept in days. The scent of combat clung to his skin, and dust coated his clothing. Wherever he’d been, it hadn’t been fun.
“Sibyl sent me,” he said without preamble.
“Did she accept our request?”
Cain nodded, but didn’t look pleased. “She said she’d see you first thing in the morning.”
“Why not now? The night’s still young.”
“We just got back from hunting and we’re exhausted. The child needs her rest.”
“What happened?”
Cain rubbed his temples. Weariness hung heavily on his frame, weighing him down. “Ask Angus, but you probably don’t want to know. I’m going to crash.”
“Thanks,” said Paul. “Andra will be relieved to know there’s still hope.”
Cain looked as if he were going to say something else, but settled on, “Don’t expect any miracles. Sibyl’s been acting a little strange lately.”
“Sibyl always acts strange.” She was perpetually eight years old and could see the future. That was weird on any scale.
“More than normal, I mean. Just cut her some slack, okay?”
“We need her.”
Cain sighed. “I know. Everyone does. That’s the problem.”
“I swear this has got to be harder on you than it is on her.”
“She’s like a daughter to me,” said Cain.
Paul wondered what that must be like—to have a child he could call his own. “That sounds nice.”
“Some days, yeah.”
But not today, apparently.
Cain shoved away from the doorframe. “I’m going to sleep. See you around eight tomorrow morning, okay?”
“We’ll be there.”
Chapter 24
Gilda couldn’t stop shaking. Every ounce of strength had been wrung from her when she opened that portal. She couldn’t even hold on to Angus as he carried her back to their suite. Not that he needed the help. His arms were strong and solid around her, holding her easily against his chest as if he hadn’t also spent the last few hours fighting nonstop.
His gait was a little unsteady from the wound in his left thigh. It wasn’t life threatening, but the urge to mend him was nearly overwhelming.
“Later,” he told her, knowing her thoughts. “I’ll be fine for a few hours. You need to rest.”
The idea of sleeping made a scream bubble up in her throat. Every time she closed her eyes she saw that . . . abomination. She still wasn’t sure if it was real or if she’d imagined it.
“It was real,” growled Angus. His arms tightened a bit around her as if trying to protect her from it even now.
“I need to get clean.”
“A bath can wait. You need rest.”
She could still smell the stench of that thing burning—hear the screams ripping from its tiny lungs.
God, what had they done? It was just a child.
“Not a child—a demon. It tried to kill Sibyl. We did what we had to.”
It had looked so . . . human. How was that possible? Gilda swallowed hard, trying to stave off her tears.