Dying Wish

Page 21

“Are you okay?” asked Jackie.
He could hear that she was closer now. Her tentative footsteps crunched in the gravel, drawing her closer to danger.
Iain turned and forced his legs to move, to put more distance between them. It did no good. She continued to draw nearer, ignorant of the threat he now posed.
“Stop.” He mangled the word, but her footsteps ceased.
He could smell her on the wind—a light, tempting fragrance of warm woman mixed with a hint of spring.
Her hand settled on his shoulder. The beast grinned in victory and began to reach for her. Iain couldn’t let her be subjected to what would come next. She’d end up on the cold, rocky ground, raped and bleeding.
Not his Jackie. Not while he still lived.
With a force of will he didn’t think he possessed, he found the strength he needed to beat the monster back into its cage. It fought him, snarling and gnashing its teeth, but he managed to clang the door shut.
Iain was left sweating and shaking from the effort.
Her hands settled on his face, as gentle as butterflies. He opened his eyes and looked down at her.
Worry lined her brow and pulled her mouth tight. Iain let his sword fall to the ground and ran his finger over her forehead, hoping to erase whatever was bothering her. Her skin was smooth and warm, and her mouth relaxed at his touch.
He wanted to kiss her again, but knew it would be a mistake. Still, it was hard to remember his honor when he felt so battered, bruised, and weary. Battling himself had taken all his strength, and he didn’t know how much more he had to hold himself back.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He wasn’t. He was so far from okay it was laughable, but he couldn’t bear to burden her with his problems. “Yeah.”
“Did you get any poison on you?”
He didn’t feel the tingle of it, but there could have been some on his coat—the one that she was too close to.
Iain took a step back and searched his clothing for signs of blood or spit. There were none, except on his sword.
He grabbed his weapon and wiped it off on a patch of demon fur. “I can’t see through the windshield,” he said, hoping to find a safe topic to distract himself. “You’ll freeze to death if we try to drive without it. We’ll have to wait here for a new set of wheels.”
He pulled out his phone and texted Nicholas with the details of their situation. That man was the most connected of all of them, with a love for technological gadgets that baffled Iain.
Nicholas confirmed he’d gotten the message, and called off the Sanguinar that was on the way to free Iain of the poison Jackie had already cured—the one Helen had sent.
“I could make a windshield. I just figured out how Andra does her shield thing. I think I could use that same technique to keep the wind out.”
“It’s worth a shot.” Anything that kept them from spending time alone out here in the dark together was worth a try. “Stand clear for a second.”
She nodded, and he got inside the truck, using his feet to push the largest portion of safety glass out of the way.
“Okay. Let’s give this a try.”
Iain felt a tug on his power, then a steady stream flow from him as she placed a flat dome of energy over the hole the broken-out windshield had left behind. He wasn’t sure how long she could keep it up, so he texted Nicholas with an update, fired up the truck, and headed out as fast as was safe.
Half an hour later, she’d fallen completely silent. He spared her a quick glance, and saw she was pale and sweating from the sustained effort.
“We’ll stop here,” he told her. “You need to rest.”
“No. I’m okay. Keep going.”
He almost argued with her, but he could feel her determination sliding through their link. She wanted to do this, and he couldn’t resist giving her what she wanted.
The sooner she got away from him, the better off she’d be.
Chapter 11
Murak found the girl’s house without effort. It was clustered around fifty other houses just like it—cattle in their pens.
Her bedroom was on the second floor, as if that were going to stop him from reaching her. Humans were such amusing, unimaginative creatures. It was no wonder they were beneath him on the food chain.
He summoned a breath of power and lifted himself from the ground to peer into her window. Darkness cloaked his presence, saving him the trouble.
The light from a TV cast a flickering glow over her spindly body. She huddled into herself, rocking, as she stared at a TV screen. He could sense the blood of his kind coursing through her, calling to him.
Retrieving her was going to be as easy as it would be enjoyable.
She lifted a cell phone, and her fingers trembled as she typed a text message.
Murak found it interesting that she’d begun to settle back into a normal human life so quickly. It showed a resilience that would serve her well in the years to come. Bearing Synestryn young was difficult on humans, and only a small number of them survived long enough to breed a second time. He was certain that this child would be one of those special creatures.
All the more reason to return her to her place beneath the earth.
He unlatched and removed the screen with a mere thought. Unlocking the window was effortless, though he took the time to do it slowly, allowing no sound to give away his presence. The girl continued splitting her attention between her phone and the TV, her knees pulled tight against her chest in a defensive posture.
As soon as his path was no longer barred, it was time to move fast. He flung the window up and sailed through the opening, knocking the lightweight sheers from his path as he went.
The girl saw him and immediately froze in terror. Her lips parted around a silent scream.
Murak landed on the floor by her bed, close enough to touch.
The poor, shaking creature shifted slightly, and a second later, a searingly bright light burned his eyes.
He hissed in pain and instinctively brought his arm up to shield himself.
A camera. That flash had come from a camera on her phone.
As soon as he realized there was no threat of sunlight, he reached for her. Her hair brushed across his fingertips as she rolled away, landing on the far side of the bed.
“Dad!” she screamed, a ferocious, wrenching sound of panic.
Murak had only seconds before the girl’s father arrived, and in that time, he was going to have her securely in his grasp and out through the window.
He lunged over the bed, reaching out his long arm. She scrambled back like a crab, staring in terror at his clawed fingers.
The girl was quick. He’d give her that. But she was pinned against a dresser now, with nowhere else to run.
A grin stretched his mouth, displaying his teeth. The girl began to shake violently, and he knew she had to be remembering all the times his kind had fed from her silky throat.
“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I won’t drink too much. We need you.”
He grabbed her arm, ignoring her ineffective attempts to pry his fingers loose. She struggled, kicking and clawing at him, but his skin was too thick for her to damage. All she was doing was wearing herself out, which would make the rest of his trip that much easier.
“Dad!” shouted the girl again, her shrill scream ringing in his ears.
The bedroom door flew open so hard, the wood cracked. A furious human man rushed in, pointing a double-barreled shotgun at Murak.
He swung the girl around, intending to use her as a shield so her father wouldn’t fire, but before he could, she dropped to the ground, her deadweight nearly ripping his arm from his shoulder.
The gun went off. Pain splintered Murak’s body, flinging him backward against the opening of the window. He could smell his own blood, and sudden, ravenous hunger washed over him.
It wasn’t until the girl skittered away on her hands and knees that he realized he’d lost his grip on her arm. His prey was gone, and her father was preparing for another painful assault.
Murak tossed his weight back and fell through the window. He used his power to slow the fall, and then hid himself from sight.
The man peered out of the window, the barrel of his weapon preceding him. He stared into the dark for several seconds, scanning the area. “Are you okay, Autumn?” he asked his daughter.
Murak heard a whimpering, pitiful sound, but couldn’t make out the words.
“Okay, sweetie. Don’t you worry. He’s not coming back, and even if he does, we won’t be here. Get your coat. We’re leaving.”
Which meant that not only did Murak have to take the time to heal from his wounds—he also had to find his prey again. But first, he had to feed, and there was an entire neighborhood of cattle just waiting to serve him.
By the time they reached Dabyr, Jackie was weaving in her seat. Exhaustion bore down on her, making it hard to keep her burning eyes open. Even so, the sense of satisfaction she’d gained in doing what needed to be done was one she’d almost forgotten. It glowed inside of her, pepping up her spirits and reminding her that she had once been a force to be reckoned with. She’d once been strong and capable.
She’d missed feeling like that, but until now, she hadn’t realized just how much.
Iain turned off the engine. She tried to reach for the door to open it, but her arm was too heavy, her fingers too weak. Her whole body was trembling, making her wonder how she was going to make it back inside.
He came around to her side and opened the door. He stared at her, his face impassive. “You’re too weak to walk, aren’t you?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I can carry you inside.”
She hated the idea of being weak and helpless. Even more, she hated the idea of people seeing her being weak and helpless. “No. Please.”
His chest expanded with a breath she knew would come out as a frustrated sigh. Instead, he leaned forward and cupped his left hand at the nape of her neck.
She felt the subtle click as his ring latched on to the necklace she wore. The heat of his bare hand sank into her skin, while a torrent of power flowed into her, driving away her exhaustion. A hot shiver wiggled down her spine and settled in her belly.
She let out a sigh of contentment and felt a smile tug at her mouth. “That’s incredible.”
“I should have done it while we drove, but I couldn’t reach you, and I didn’t think it would be a good idea for you to lie down in my lap.”
It sounded like a lovely idea to her, but right now she wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. Her head was fogged with warmth and a resonant hum of power. His touch was intoxicating, lowering her inhibitions and making her forget what was really important.
A moment later, he pulled away and all those tingly feelings were gone. She mourned the loss of his touch, but said nothing.
“Better?” he asked.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“You’ll need to sleep now.”
“I’m fine. Besides, I don’t have time to waste. There’s too much to do.”
She moved to slide out of the truck, but Iain’s big body blocked her way. His expression was hard and demanding. “You will sleep or I’ll find a way to make you. What I did is temporary, and I only did it so you wouldn’t be ashamed of your weakness. Don’t make me regret that decision.”