Chapter 1
Missouri, April 2
Jackie Patton was dressed to kill, and if one more of those burly, tattooed Theronai warriors tried to grope her, she was going to do just that.
Her red power suit was far too dressy for the occasion, but it made her feel better, almost normal. The thought sent hysterical laughter bubbling up from deep inside her. Normal was such a distant concept that she couldn’t even remember what it felt like.
Two years. That’s all the demons had stolen from her. She could never get them back, but she was free now, and determined to live that way.
She smoothed her hands over her suit jacket, ignoring the way they trembled. What little she had was already packed. She’d regained access to her bank accounts. Her house was gone—foreclosed and sold at auction—but she’d find another. She had enough money to live on while she found a job, and despite the tight job market, her résumé was impressive. A good position was just around the corner. She could feel it.
All she had to do now was let Joseph, the leader of this place—this compound—know she was leaving. Today. Right now.
Jackie went to the door of her suite, hesitating with her hand on the knob. She was safe here. There were no demons roaming the halls, no monsters lurking around the corner. But there were men out there. Suffering, desperate. Dying.
She’d been told she could save one. All she had to do was give up her life and dive into this world of monsters and magic.
They said it like it was no big deal, like she’d gain as much from this bizarre union as the man she chose would. Not true. She was free now. There was no way in hell she was giving up that freedom after having lost it for two years. She wouldn’t tie herself to any man. Not now, not while she was still broken and barely holding it together.
Don’t think about that now. If you do, you won’t leave your suite today. Again.
Jackie sucked in a long, deep breath and focused on her task. Simple. Fast. She’d be on the road within the hour.
That thought calmed her, and gave her room to breathe. She could do this. She had to. No one else could do it for her.
She grabbed what was left of her self-confidence and gathered it around herself like a cloak, holding it close. There had been a time when she could have faced a crowd and spoken to them without breaking a sweat, but those days were long behind her. Now simply leaving her suite made her shake with nerves.
She was a different person now, not the powerful, confident corporate exec she’d once been. She was a refugee.
No, a survivor. That sounded better. Stronger.
She left her suite, feeling moderately less miserable. She had almost made it to Joseph’s office when she rounded a corner and came face-to-face with one of the giant warriors who called themselves Theronai. As he towered over her, nearly seven feet tall, his gaunt body seemed to grow taller by the second. A shaggy growth of dark beard covered his wide jaw, and his amber eyes, shadowed with fatigue, lit up with the realization of who she was.
Jackie’s heart squeezed hard, flooding her body with adrenaline. Survival instincts honed in the caves where she’d been held captive kicked in. She went still, hoping he’d pass by and leave her in peace, as Joseph had ordered all his men to do. But this man didn’t pass. He slowed, coming to a stop only a few feet in front of her.
“You’re the one,” he said, his voice ragged, as if he’d been screaming for days.
“I’m late for a meeting,” she lied.
His long arm reached for her, and she jerked back. “Let me touch you. Let me see if it’s true.”
Panic exploded in her chest, but she was used to that. She’d learned the hard way to hide her fear and terror, and now that skill rose easily, allowing her to speak.
“Leave me alone,” she warned, trying to make her tone as stern as possible. It was a complete bluff. There was nothing she could do to defend herself against him. She was weak from her prolonged captivity, and even if she hadn’t been, his overpowering strength was so obvious, it was laughable she’d even consider fighting him.
Angry desperation filled his gaze as he stared down at her. “I don’t give a fuck about what you want. Grace is dying. If I claim you, we might be able to save her.”
Claim you.
The words left her cold, and sent her careening back into the caves where she’d been held. The monsters who’d abducted her had treated her like a thing—a trough from which they fed with no more concern for her than they’d have for the discarded paper wrapper from a fast-food burger.
She couldn’t do that again. She couldn’t allow herself to be used or she’d be all used up, with nothing left of herself to salvage.
But what about Grace?
Jackie had heard rumors of Grace. She was a human woman who’d sacrificed herself to save a Theronai warrior who’d become paralyzed. She’d taken on his injuries, freeing him, while she lay trapped and dying, her human body too weak to combat the poison that had caused his paralysis. No one had been able to save her. Not even the vampirelike healers these people called Sanguinar.
“Stay away,” she warned, working hard to make her voice firm and unyielding. Sometimes that tone had worked to keep the smaller monsters away. For a while.
She backed up, holding her hands in front of her to push him away if he got too close.
His eyes shut as if he was waging some internal struggle. When he spoke, his voice was gentler, pleading. “I’m Torr. I’m not going to hurt you. But I need you. Grace needs you. You may be her only hope.”