There was nothing Canaranth could do now. Not until Connal let go of his mind. But once he did, Canaranth would go and feed. And then he would come back for his family. He would take them by force if he had to, killing whoever got in his way, even if he had to drain every last Slayer they had to make it happen.
Apparently, he was more like Raygh than he’d thought.
This labyrinth of underground tunnels was much more extensive than Cain had suspected. Claw marks were evident on the walls where the rock had been scraped away to widen the passages. It had been done methodically, intentionally, as if they needed the space to move something big.
He made a mental note of it, but that was all the attention he could spare. This place was crawling with lesser demons, when it should have been mostly empty. The sun would be up soon, but until then, there shouldn’t have been nearly as many demons present as there were.
The sheer number of creatures kept him on his toes as he cut them down. The smell of their blood and his sweat was going to alert others of his presence, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. His priority had to be Ella and her baby.
Besides, the sooner he got this job done, the sooner he could get back to Rory. He didn’t like leaving her out there alone, unguarded. If not for her constant tug on his power, he would have been distracted with worry. But as long as she was drawing energy from him, she was alive. He took what solace he could from that.
A pair of sgath slinked out from a narrow crevice, their green eyes glowing with hunger. They were small, young, but they were also fast and ferocious. They worked in tandem, circling him so that he was continually flanked.
He bided his time, waiting for one of them to attack. With each second that ticked by, he felt the urge to hurry, but if he got himself killed, he’d be of no help to the humans.
Finally, the one on his left coiled to pounce. As it flew up toward Cain’s throat, he stepped aside and cut through its brother’s snout. One of its eyes winked out as the other sgath hit the cave wall. Cain used its moment of stunned confusion to lop off its head, then made quick work of the injured beast.
From down the corridor, he heard the telltale scratching of claws on stone. Hundreds of them. The scent of the sgath’s black blood pooling beneath them was like ringing a demon dinner bell.
The time for patience was over.
The instant Raygh smelled the child draped over the Sanguinar’s arm, he knew what it meant. The boy looked completely human upon first glance, but his scent gave him away.
Not only was the child half-Synestryn, he was Canaranth’s offspring.
Raygh stretched out his hands. “Give the child to me.”
The sudden tension that overcame Canaranth was more proof that Raygh’s first guess was correct. Still, his servant took the child from the Sanguinar and slowly carried him closer.
The slight hesitation to let go of the boy thrilled Raygh, showing him one more of the many weaknesses Zillah’s previous lieutenant possessed.
With a thought, Raygh woke the child, freeing him of the Sanguinar’s thrall. There were no tears or cries of fear. The child regarded him with calm, steady interest.
“He is ours,” announced Raygh.
“Of course,” said the Sanguinar. “Tribute in exchange for asylum. And food.”
“Come closer.”
The Sanguinar handed the sleeping woman to Canaranth, who cradled her as if she were a rare and precious thing.
Yet another weakness waiting to be used against him. It truly was disgusting to watch.
The Sanguinar knelt at Raygh’s feet, as was proper.
“I will accept your tribute. And your blood.”
“No,” said the Sanguinar. “My blood is my own. I will not allow you to control me.”
“I already do,” said Raygh. “You came here bearing gifts, seeking asylum. That means you have nowhere else to go. You are in my home, in my presence. You are already stripped of all control. The rest is mere formality.”
“Let me take the child from you, my lord, so you may more comfortably feed,” said Canaranth.
Raygh tossed the boy at him, watching in amusement as he chose between which precious thing he let hit the ground. In the end, Canaranth eased the woman down just in time to throw his body under the boy’s, allowing himself to take the brunt of the impact.
Interesting. And useful. If Canaranth was willing to suffer for the woman and child, then perhaps he wasn’t a lost cause after all. Raygh could use the humans to turn Canaranth into a true leader, rather than the weakling he currently was. Their kind needed more strong rulers.
“I will not give you my blood,” said the Sanguinar.
“I don’t expect you to give it. But I will take it.” And before the other man was able to move out of the way, Raygh grabbed him by the head and shoved his will into the Sanguinar’s mind.
Connal was his name. He was desperate. Lost. Weak.
Raygh held him still while he fed, sucking both blood and information from him.
Zillah had tricked Connal into drinking his blood by masking it inside a pregnant human. And now that he’d had a taste, he wanted more. Human blood, Sentinel blood—none of it sated him—only the blood of an altered human breeding vessel had filled the void.
Raygh pulled his mouth away, heedless of the blood that poured from Connal’s neck. “You think I’m going to give you the blood of my breeders?”
“Zillah did.”
Connal tried to break free, but he was weak compared to Raygh, who held him still without effort. “Zillah was a fool.”
The Sanguinar’s voice became a desperate whine. “I was useful. I helped him.”
“Yes, but now your people know of your treachery. You are useless to me.”
Connal healed his wounds shut, but the process was slow, proving just how little strength was left in him. “I can help. I can find more women for you—women like Beth.”
“Whom you killed.” Raygh had seen that in Connal’s memories.
“I needed her blood.”
Raygh studied him for a moment. Perhaps he could be of use, but if he would betray his own kind, he would betray Raygh as well. Better to not risk what was bound to fail. Besides, with the rest of the Sanguinar’s blood, Raygh would be strong enough to break through the last of the female Theronai’s defenses. Then she would come to him without a fight.
“And I need your blood.” He gripped Connal’s hair and bent his head back. The Sanguinar hardly even struggled as he died.
Chapter 29
Cain wasn’t going to make it. Rory could feel his calm assessment of the situation as he tore through possible options for survival. She saw the wall of little demons sweeping toward him, like a fury, scaly flash flood. There was no way he was going to be able to take them all on before they killed him.
It took only one bite to take him down. One little poisonous scratch.
And then she realized what had just happened. All of the other visions had faded from her sight. She saw only through Cain’s eyes now. Her focus on him and his safety had been absolute, allowing her to control her sight.
Not that it did her much good. That’s all she could see, as if she were right there with him. How the hell was she going to make it into the cave and to his side when she couldn’t see to get out of the car?
Something tickled in the back of her mind, drawing her attention. Her fear for Cain grew until she was shaking with it. The only thing that mattered was getting into the cave. She had to go. Now. Before it was too late.
Rory pushed out of the car, landing on the cold ground. She scrambled to her feet, using the car as a frame of reference. The only sight she saw was of Cain’s powerful arms cutting through dozens of demons, their black blood making the earth beneath his feet slick.
The hood of the car was still warm. She tried to remember which direction the cave entrance was from here, but she’d never been good with directions, and had no clue which angle to take.
Still, the need to move drove her forward. She tripped on dips in the ground, but stayed on her feet, walking in shuffling steps in what she hoped was the right direction.
She must have veered off course, because she was pulled back to her left, as if an invisible rope had given her a hard tug.
This way. She heard the thought whisper across her mind, its rasping voice cold and alien.
A surge of fear rose up in Cain and he shouted a wordless warning in her head.
Ignore him, said the voice. He needs you. Hurry.
Of course Cain didn’t want her to come and help. He was always worried about her safety. But this time, he was the one in trouble. Not her. He needed her, and she was not going to let him down.
Good pet. Hurry!
Pet? That didn’t seem right, but she didn’t waste time worrying about it. The river of demons flooding around Cain’s feet was not slowing. He needed her to shield him.
Rory hurried as fast as she could. She fell twice, but was back on her feet in seconds, pushing forward. When her hands hit the cold rock near the entrance of the cave, a sense of elation cascaded over her, making her shiver.
More demons had surrounded Cain, but he had worked his way back into a crevice, protecting himself from attack on all sides. Each powerful swing was a killing blow, sending the heads and paws of multiple demons flying.
Stay away! he warned. It’s a trap.
A trap for him, based on the look of things.
He needs you, whispered the cold voice.
Rory agreed. She found the curve in the rock, smelled the dank, fetid stench of decay and knew she’d located the opening. With one hand on the wall to guide her, she picked up speed and raced blindly toward Cain.
The demon had broken free inside of Rory’s mind, and she didn’t even realize it.
Cain forced his body to keep moving, his sword to keep swinging while he shouted continual warnings for Rory to stay away.
Nothing he’d said had gotten through. She was convinced that he needed her. The demon had tricked her into believing the lie.
He kept fighting. Sweat dripped into his eyes, burning. Most of the demons at his feet were small and easy to kill, but toward the back of the swarming mass he saw larger beasts shoving their way forward.
As soon as they reached him and he had to turn his attention to them, the smaller Synestryn would break through his defenses. There was no way his sword could be in so many places at one time.
He didn’t want to die. Not now, not when he’d just found Rory. He’d come to care for her, deeply. He loved her feisty spirit and her refusal to back down from what she believed was right. He loved her willingness to risk herself for others. He even loved her ridiculous pink hair and how it felt as it brushed his skin.
They’d hardly had any time together. The luceria made him feel like he’d known her for years, and yet it only highlighted how little time they’d really had.
But his regrets for what he’d never have were selfish compared to what that baby would never have. If Cain lost this battle, little Ethan would be lost as well. He couldn’t let that happen.
His resolve fueled his limbs, forcing them to move faster. He didn’t spare any attention on what was behind the demons right in front of him. He focused only on cutting them down, watching as the Synestryn behind them pulled the corpses back to feed on them.