Tori thrashed inside his hold. Her pale skin was flushed. Too-dark veins beat at her throat and in her temples, proving that the blood of her captors still coursed through her. She bared her teeth, which were coated with Paul’s blood. “I will kill you if you try to make me stay here. Zillah has to die. I have to kill him.”

“We’ll find him for you. I’ll kill him myself.”

“No! He’s mine! I want to hurt him. I want to make him scream.”

Tynan had heard enough. Tori was unwell. She’d been with the Synestryn for too long. They’d changed her, fed her their blood. Zillah had tortured her and raped her and forced her to bear him a child. That child—her child—had died. No one could come through something like that unscathed.

Her suffering beat at him, making him forget all about his own paltry problems. He had to end her suffering. Somehow. He’d thought that if she found a man who was compatible with her, one whose power she could wield, it might save her, but now he was beginning to think differently. If this young woman had any kind of power at all, she might well use it to kill the people inside this stronghold.

Tynan couldn’t let that happen.

Nicholas had been right to have Tynan remove his memory of the encounter with Tori. He’d done it for reasons different from Tynan’s, but the result was the same. Tori would not gain access to Nicholas’s power unless and until it was safe for her to become a deadly weapon. No one could know that they were compatible—especially Andra, who would do anything to save her sister.

Tynan strode up to where Paul held her, and touched Tori’s forehead, willing her to sleep.

She went limp in Paul’s arms, and he let out a long, relieved breath. “Thanks. She’s strong for such a tiny thing.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Andra, as if all of this were somehow her fault.

Paul laid Tori on the bed and pulled Andra against his bare chest, hugging her close. The look he gave Tynan was filled with demand. “You’ve got to make this stop. She stabbed Nicholas today.”

“I know. I was the one who removed the knife and mended his flesh.”

“I’ll give you whatever blood you need,” said Paul, “but you’ve got to help her. She’s not getting any better.”

Andra turned, wiping tears from her eyes. “She’s getting worse. More violent.”

“No, she’s always been this violent. It’s just that now she’s getting strong enough to act on those feelings. You must let me put her to sleep in the way of my kind. She will rest in peace until I can find a way to remove the taint of Synestryn blood from her body.”

“Can’t we get some kind of dialysis machine?” asked Andra.

“Machines cannot filter out magic, though I wish it were possible.”

“You can’t give up on her.”

“I haven’t. I won’t. You know how much she’s needed. But there’s no other way.”

“I can’t make her go to sleep,” said Andra. “She says that Zillah is in her dreams. Hurting her.” She swallowed and when she spoke again, her voice shook with emotion. “He rapes her in her sleep, Tynan. Every night. She wakes up screaming, crying. I can’t make her live through that for as long as it takes you to find a cure. At least now she has some time awake. Away from him.”

Paul stroked Andra’s back. “We’ll cage her before we let you put her to sleep. We’ve already decided.”

“Then we cage her, because there’s no way we can let her roam free after what she did today.”

“I’ll talk to Joseph,” said Andra. “I’ll see if he’ll let us put bars on her door and windows so she can stay here.”

It wasn’t going to end well. Tynan could already tell that much.

Tori began to writhe on the bed, making pitiful sounds of pain and terror.

Tears spilled down Andra’s face. “Don’t let Nika know how bad she is. It would kill her.”

“The two of them are connected. Nika probably already knows.”

Andra shook her head. “No. Tori still protects her, even though she’s barely human. Nika was the one who was with her in her mind for all of those years of captivity. Tori won’t repay that by making Nika suffer. I don’t want you to, either.”

“I agree. We’ll keep this to ourselves.” Not only was it the right thing to do, but it would garner good faith with Andra as well as keeping Nika’s mind free of worry. Tynan wanted Nika happy and content so that nothing interfered with her ability to become pregnant.

A few weeks ago, he’d given Nika’s husband a serum he hoped would cure his infertility. With any luck at all, Tynan’s tireless efforts would pay off and Theronai babies would once again be born. It was the only hope his people had for avoiding starvation.

He moved to Tori under the guise of checking her pulse. Andra was protective of her younger sisters, and he didn’t want to do anything to anger her.

Tynan sent his power streaming out through his touch and found the seething, rotting pain of Tori’s nightmares. He couldn’t shield her from them, but he could blunt their edges for a time by taking them into himself. It was difficult to do, and taxing on his already dwindling power, but Tori deserved a bit of rest after what she’d been through.

He gathered up her nightmares, allowing them to flow into himself. The images hit him hard, nauseating him. He refused to look directly at them for fear of driving himself mad. There was too much torment there, too much agony and hopelessness. If he looked at it for too long, it would suck him in and destroy him.

Tynan shoved all of it into a corner of his mind and locked it away. It was still there. He could feel the fetid edges of it trying to creep out, but this wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this. It took all his willpower, but he managed to take control and face Paul and Andra as if nothing had happened. “She’ll sleep peacefully for at least a couple of hours. Don’t wake her.”

Andra nodded, sniffing. “Thank you.”

“I’ll walk you to the door,” said Paul.

He left his wife behind, and as soon as they were out of sight, he stopped Tynan. “Take my blood. I know you need it after what you did for her.”

“I wasn’t able to do anything.”

“Liar.” Paul lifted his wrist. “Go ahead. I owe you.”

Tynan was too weak to resist such an offer. He was ashamed that he wasn’t stronger, but that changed nothing. His actions were the same. In the end, his actions would always be the same.

He’d do whatever it took to survive—to keep his people alive—no matter who had to bleed to make it happen.

Zillah trembled with fury as he stood before his peers. Synestryn lords lined the cave, each seated upon a throne carved from the surrounding stone. Tiny crystals twinkled along the walls of the cavern, and in the center of the space was a large fire, casting flickering shadows over everything.

He’d been summoned. Like a dog. And like a dog, he knew better than to ignore the call. He was powerful, controlling a vast swath of land, but no one was powerful enough to ignore the might of several of the other Synestryn lords combined.

“Why was I interrupted and forced to come here?” he asked.

Raygh—one of the other Synestryn lords present—had apparently been instrumental in the summons, for he was the first to answer. He was tall and skeletal, his bluish skin hanging on his bones, so loose, it looked like it might simply slough off at any moment. His nostrils were flat holes in the center of his face, each one leaking mucus onto his lips. He hunched over like an old human man, but there was nothing frail about him. His slit eyes glowed with power. “We question your ability to protect your holdings. And your loyalty.”

Fury blasted through Zillah, and he gripped the hilt of the stolen sword at his side. “How dare you question me?” he demanded.

“We granted you land and all the humans on it. You were to cultivate them, separate the meat from those with power, and find breeders. And instead, you allowed the breeders to escape. At least two of them carry our young, and they are now in Sentinel hands. You failed. Even worse, you allowed the Sentinels to learn of our plans too soon. Your failure has ruined what we have spent years creating. Because of that, your lands are revoked. The question we’re here to settle is one of loyalty—whether or not we should spare your life.”

He was too shocked to speak for a long moment. Yes, the Sentinels had invaded his territory and stolen his breeding stock, but that didn’t give the lords gathered here the right to take away what was his. Those lands had been his for years. He’d earned them, working his way up in power until he was strong enough to kill the Synestryn lord who’d held them previously.

“You can’t do that,” growled Zillah.

“The decision is made,” said Raygh. “We will hear your defense if you have one.”

“I don’t have to defend myself to any of you. You are my equals.”

Another Synestryn lord behind him snorted in derision.

Zillah whirled around to face him. His head was too large for his body, fleshy and bulbous, with protruding bug eyes and thick, scaly lips. He looked less human than the others gathered here, covered in fur, with talons instead of fingers. When he spoke, the words were barely understandable. “You are weak. Too human. Food.”

“I’ll show you weak,” promised Zillah as he drew his sword. An instant later, he became immobile, his body frozen.

“That answers the question of loyalty,” said Raygh, spinning Zillah around with a wave of his hand. “You will be put to death for your crimes.”

Fear swelled in Zillah’s mind, leaving room for nothing else. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t defend himself.

“No. I have a better idea,” said a man from the shadows. Zillah thought he recognized the voice, but couldn’t place it exactly. “He may yet be of use if he can learn some humility.”

“What do you suggest, son?” asked Raygh.

“Lock him up. Use him for blood, rather than meat.”

Zillah’s muscles clenched as he tried to fight his way free. He couldn’t allow himself to be treated like a human.

High, strained sounds vibrated from his chest, but his mouth would not move.

“What say you?” Raygh asked the gathering. “Meat or blood.”

“Blood,” said the lord on Raygh’s left.

“Blood,” said the next.

“Blood.”

On it went, around the room, until the last voice echoed out, “Blood,” sealing Zillah’s fate.

Chapter 7

It had felt so good. So right.

Jackie had been sucked in by whatever magic Iain had. She’d fallen for it. She hadn’t meant to, but when he’d pulled her up against his hard body and wrapped her up in bubbling warmth, she’d been powerless to resist.

In that moment, she’d given in to his need and let it wash over her, giving her purpose. No one was around to see her weakness, and it had been so long since she’d been held like that.