“Another? Who?”
“Not who. What.”
“What, then?”
She smoothed the curls away from her doll-like face. “Bait. Irresistible bait.”
“I don’t understand,” he said.
“I know,” replied Maura with contempt heavy and discordant in her child’s voice. “You never have.”
As soon as Logan was sure Paul was occupied with Andra, Logan dialed Tynan, the leader of the Sanguinar.
“Yes,” answered Tynan.
“Can you speak?”
“Yes.”
“Sammy McMullins was abducted by the Synestryn last night.”
“I’m sorry, Logan. I know he was one of your more recent successes. You must be desolate. Did you find the body?”
“We got him back alive.”
A shocked silence filled the line. “How?”
“A woman named Andra Madison. She hunts down lost children. She found him.”
“Where is he now?”
“With his parents.”
“And the woman?” asked Tynan.
“I’m in her apartment. With Paul. I believe she’s his lady.”
“Another woman?” said Tynan in awe. “Where did she come from?”
“I’m still working on that. Her upbringing was fairly normal, but she’s strong. Maybe even as strong as Helen.”
“Can you locate her parents?”
“Her mother is dead. I don’t think she knows much about her father. I wasn’t able to search her mind too deeply with two Theronai standing guard over her. Maybe if I can get her alone.”
“Can you bring her to Dabyr?”
“Yes. Tonight. Sibyl has ordered Paul to present her.”
“Good,” said Tynan. “In the meantime, find out what you can about Sammy. I’m going to visit his parents and console them. We don’t want them to worry that this will happen with the child they’re expecting.”
“She’s pregnant again?”
“Yes, but she doesn’t know it yet. We’ll let them find out on their own. Our interference will be less obvious that way.”
Another success. Logan could hardly believe their plan was working. Maybe it was worth all the suffering and hunger they’d been through. “They’ll need to relocate, just to be safe.”
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll see if I can convince any of the Slayers to keep watch over the family, too.”
That notion made Logan’s chest tighten. “Why? Do you think the Slayers would agree?”
There was a long pause, as though Tynan were deciding what to say. Or whether to say anything. “Perhaps. I’ve been . . . negotiating with them. It’s going well.”
Shock stilled Logan’s body. None of his kind had had dealings with the Slayers since the Theronai declared war upon them. They were a violent, proud, and deadly race of shapeshifters who had long ago turned their backs on humans. They protected their own and kept to themselves. “What if the Theronai find out we’re dealing with the Slayers? They won’t like us allying ourselves with their enemies.”
“That’s why they’ll never find out. This war is ridiculous, anyway. I refuse to choose sides.”
“We already did. We chose the Theronai’s side.”
“Only because their blood was purer. Not because they were right.”
Something in what Tynan said set off a warning in Logan’s mind. “You said the negotiations were going well. What could you possibly have to offer the Slayers?”
“They want to become involved in Project Lullaby.”
“You told them about it? Are you mad?”
“They won’t tell the Theronai. It’s in their best interest to keep our secrets. They need the bloodlines strengthened as badly as we do. Their powers have all but faded.”
“I thought that’s what they wanted. To stop fighting the Synestryn and settle down to life like the humans.”
“There’s been a shift in power among them. Andreas Phelan has risen to power and has demanded his people return to the old ways or leave the pack.”
“He was only a child when I last saw him.”
“Things have changed. For the better.”
Logan wasn’t so sure, but he had no choice other than to trust Tynan’s leadership until he could learn the truth himself. Besides, it was too late. The Slayers already knew too much, and they were not easy to kill.
“Be careful,” warned Logan. “There’s too much at stake to risk so many years of effort.”
“I’m always careful.” Tynan sounded tired. Weak.
“I’ll have blood to share when I return,” said Logan. He’d rather keep all of the strength Andra had given him to himself, but he couldn’t be that selfish. Survival of his race demanded that he wasn’t. Things would change soon for their people. Project Lullaby would see to that.
“Thank you, brother. It’s sorely needed.”
Logan heard Madoc’s heavy step coming down the hall toward Andra’s apartment. “I must go.”
He hung up the phone just before Madoc came in bearing two big sacks of food. He gave Logan a suspicious look, as if he knew about the conversation that had just taken place. Then again, Madoc always looked suspicious.
“What have you been up to, leech?”
Logan hated the derogatory term, but he refused to let it show. “Just resting. I always feel weak when the sun is up.”
“Yeah, right. I believe that one.”
“What did you bring?”
“Breakfast. Lots of it. Hope you’re hungry.”
“Always,” said Logan.
Madoc wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait for the woman to show. It had taken Logan fucking forever to fall asleep, and Madoc didn’t want the bloodsucker knowing just how bad off he was. No one could know.
He leaned against the front door of Andra’s apartment, where he’d been waiting for the past twenty minutes. The cool wood eased the burning in his skin, but it did nothing for the rest of him. Pain pulsed inside him, swelling bigger with every beat of his heart.
Sparks of energy in the air found him and bombarded him, making him want to scream. He couldn’t take any more power. He had to bleed some off. Right. Now.
Madoc was pretty sure today was the day he was going to die. And if it wasn’t, he was totally sure he didn’t want to know just how much worse he could hurt.
If only he’d been able to get more fighting in over the past few days, he would have bled off some of his power that way. Or at least not added to the giant pool of energy threatening to shatter him into a bloody mess. But he hadn’t been able to fight until last night. They’d spent too many days driving around looking for Andra so Paul could feel better.
Fucking pansy.
Of course, if Andra had been Madoc’s woman, it would have been worth it. He assumed that when his soul started to die, he wouldn’t feel hope anymore. Funny how wrong he’d been. He wasn’t sure if he could still be saved now or not, but he knew that was what he wanted—to end his suffering one way or another.
In the back of Madoc’s mind, he was still grieving over the fact that he felt no connection to Andra whatsoever.
Then again, his soul had started dying months ago, and it was getting harder and harder to feel anything. He was one of the Band of the Barren—the secret group of Theronai who no longer bore any leaves on their lifemarks. Their souls were dead, but they helped one another hide it from the other Sentinels, pretending to be normal. If any of the other Sentinels knew, they’d be outcast. Or worse—sent to the Slayers.
Madoc pressed his palm to his chest where the pressure was the worst. The Band was an invitation-only kind of group, but one of the brothers had recruited him in time to slow the falling of his last leaf. It now hung on his skin midfall, moving too slowly for the eye to see. The other men said that slowing the fall would help him cling to his morals. Or at least pretend well enough to fool the rest of the Sentinels.
Madoc wasn’t convinced it was working. He was still getting worse by the day.
Another wave of pressure exploded inside him, nearly ripping him apart. He slid to the ground and pulled himself into a tight ball, hoping that would keep his guts from spewing out his navel. A scream of pain built inside him, but he’d learned long ago not to make a sound. No one outside of the Band of the Barren could know he was lost—no longer one of them.
A soft knock on the door echoed like salvation in his ears. She was finally here.
Madoc found the strength to push himself to his feet and open the door. The woman on the other side looked to be in her forties, but was probably a decade younger. She had frizzy blond hair, and last night’s makeup still ringed her dull brown eyes. She wasn’t pretty, but she had on a short skirt and that was enough for him.
“I’m Candi,” she said with a fake smile.
Madoc pulled her into the apartment and shut the door. “Don’t care,” he ground out. His voice was rough with pain, but he didn’t care about that, either.
There was no real privacy in the small apartment, so he led Candi to the kitchen, which was as good as he could do. Logan was asleep on the couch not far away, but Sanguinar normally slept like the dead during the day.
“Well, aren’t you the sweet talker?” said Candi.
“How much?” he demanded.
“Depends on what you want.”
“To fuck you. How much?”
“Hundred for the straight-up stuff. Kink will cost you extra.”
Madoc pulled some bills from his wallet and thrust them at her. He wasn’t sure how much it was, but it was more than enough, based on the way her dull eyes lit up.
“I’m going to take good care of you, honey,” she purred.
Madoc couldn’t wait any longer. He had to have some kind of release for all the pressure grinding inside him. Sex worked better than anything other than hard-core demon slaying.
He grabbed her hips and turned her around, facing away from him. He really didn’t want to look at her while he used her, though he wasn’t sure why it mattered.
She grabbed the counter to steady herself, telling him he was being a little rough. So fucking what. She was a professional. She could take it.
Madoc shoved her short skirt up and her panties down with one hand while he freed his cock with the other. She smelled like drugs and desperation, which would have bothered him at one point in his life. Not anymore. Now, he just didn’t fucking care.
“Slow down there, big boy. You gotta glove up first.” Candi held a condom over her shoulder.
Madoc despised the interruption. Pain was pounding on him to fuck her hard and fast, but he knew from experience that putting the thing on was the fastest way to get him what he wanted. He didn’t want her screaming and waking up Logan or Paul.
He covered himself and used one hand to force her shoulders down to the kitchen counter. She gave a little grunt, but didn’t complain. Madoc shoved his dick inside her and went to work. She started to make sounds as if she were enjoying it.
“Shut the fuck up,” he growled at her.
