“You’re fucking nuts if you think I’m going to do anything just because you say so.”
“I’m her sister. She’s my responsibility. I may not be able to take you in a fair fight, but if you don’t stay away, I’ll find you and kill you in your sleep. Are we clear?”
Madoc rose slowly from the couch, his powerful legs bunching with muscles. A truly frightening light glowed inside his feral green eyes. As angry as he was on the outside, inside was worse. Much, much worse. There was something dark in there. Something dangerous lurking behind the facade he showed the world.
His voice dipped to a low, quiet threat. “Feel free to come by and take your best shot. Room two-nineteen. I’ll leave my door unlocked. But since you want us to be clear, if you do come by, you’ll be on my turf. My rules. I won’t play fair.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that if I want to see Nika, there’s not a fucking thing you can do to stop me. And if you try, you’ll regret it.”
“She’s too good for you.”
Madoc flinched, but covered it quickly. “She’s too good for you, too, apparently. You were there the night this happened to her, weren’t you?”
“Fuck. You.”
Madoc gave her a sneering smile. “Anytime you want.”
“Stay away from her. She’s too innocent to protect herself from the likes of you.”
“At least I’m able to keep her safe. Protect her. You can’t even get her to eat.”
Oh, God. He was right. Andra felt like she’d been punched, but she tried not to let it show. “I got her here, didn’t I? Paul will make sure she’s safe.”
Madoc snorted. “Paul is only helping her to get in your pants. Keep you collared. If you think it’s anything else, you’re full of shit.”
Andra’s hand went to the luceria around her throat. It was vibrating now, warming under her touch. A second later, the door to Paul’s suite slammed open and Paul and Joseph came in armed with swords in hand.
“What the hell is going on?” demanded Paul.
Madoc took a step back. “I was just leaving. Seems I’m no longer wanted here.”
Paul’s color was high, and he looked as if he were ready to strike Madoc down. “Did he hurt you?”
Andra had to swallow to find her voice. “No. I’m fine. I just don’t want him around Nika anymore.”
“I heard you the first time,” growled Madoc. He pushed his way past the two armed men and left the suite.
Paul came to Andra and pulled her into a hug. “Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”
“Yeah. Just pissed me off.”
He kissed her temple and tightened his hold. “He’s good at that.”
Joseph cleared his throat. “I’m going to go check into that thing you asked me about, Paul.”
“Thanks.”
“We’ll catch up later.” Joseph left and closed the door behind him.
Paul tilted her face up to look at him. “I could feel your pain as clear as if it had been my own. What did he say to you?”
“Nothing I haven’t said to myself a thousand times. Forget about it.”
“Not going to happen. It kills me to see you suffer.” His tone was so gentle, so loving, it was going to make her cry.
She pushed away from him before it could. “Just let it go. I want to know what we’re going to do for Nika.”
Paul’s jaw tightened in frustration, and he pulled in a deep breath. “Tynan is on his way and Joseph is going to request an audience with Sibyl.”
“Good. That’s all good, right?”
“Yes. That’s all good. We’re going to take care of her.”
“Madoc says you’re only helping Nika to get to me.”
“Madoc is an asshole.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s not right,” said Andra.
Paul sat down on the couch and pulled her down next to him. “If I’d never met you, I’d still be doing everything I could to save Nika.”
“Because she’s valuable to you?”
“Because that’s what I do. That’s what we all do. Every one of us has taken a vow to protect humans from the Synestryn. So even if she weren’t one of our own, I’d still be right here, fighting for her. It’s the reason I exist.”
Andra felt the truth of his words ringing through their bond. She felt his conviction, his honesty, wrap around her and hold her tight. It felt so good not to be alone anymore. Even if it were for only a few days.
Her eyes burned, and she couldn’t blink fast enough to make the tears dissipate. One slid down her cheek, and she turned around so Paul couldn’t see her weakness.
“Don’t,” he told her. “Don’t pull away from me. You don’t have to be strong and in control all the time.”
“Yes, I do. I have to keep it together. Please try to understand that.”
He was quiet for a moment, and she could feel some of his frustration pulsing through their link. She didn’t enjoy frustrating him, but she knew if she cracked now, she’d break wide-open and destroy herself. She had to stay strong.
“How about I get us some dinner? Give you a few minutes alone?”
Andra nodded. “That would be nice.”
“Any requests?”
“Surprise me.”
When the door to Torr’s suite opened, he knew it would be her. Grace Norman. The last person on the face of this planet he wanted to have see him like this, as helpless as a babe.
If his body hadn’t been a worthless pile of meat, he would have simply met her at the door and gently shooed her away. She was a timid creature, and it wouldn’t have taken much to send her scurrying.
At least, she was timid with everyone else. Not with him. He was paralyzed from the neck down, unable to hurt a fly. No one feared him anymore. He couldn’t even hold his sword, much less swing it.
Grace gave him a cheerful smile as she entered the room carrying a plastic box full of her torture devices. “How are you today?” she asked.
She slid over the floor on silent feet. Her name fit her, but Torr was sure that her naturally swift, graceful movements were not the product of long hours of dance class. From what he’d learned about her, she’d learned to dodge fists and flying bottles at a young age.
Never again. Her stepfather was rotting in a hole in the ground, and she was safe here.
He wished telling himself that would ease the knot of tension he felt between his eyes every time he saw her, but it didn’t. Somehow bringing her here wasn’t enough. He wanted to do more.
Then again, that was the story of his life these days. He couldn’t even feed himself, much less protect Grace from imaginary threats.
“I’m tired. Go away,” he growled at her.
She made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Not nice, Torr. I’m here to help you, whether or not you want it.”
She was such a pretty thing, especially when she smiled. The smile never touched her sad brown eyes, but he’d gotten used to that over the past few weeks. She came to see him every day, and nothing he’d said or done had scared her off.
“Send someone else,” he said.
The halo of curly black hair around her head made her look younger than her twenty-two years. He should have been able to see her as a child, given that he was pushing four hundred, but with her, it just didn’t happen. She was a woman—one he found sexy as hell—and that was part of the problem. There were so many things in his life that he wanted now and couldn’t have. He didn’t appreciate her adding to the pile.
“Why?” she asked. “Don’t you think I know what I’m doing?”
Of course she did. She knew just how hopeless he was. She knew he’d be paralyzed for the rest of his too-long life, and she pitied him. That was why she was here. She was too kind not to act on that pity.
“I don’t have time for this,” he told her.
She kept smiling and set the box down on the table next to his wheelchair. “Don’t be a baby. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Of course not. I can’t feel a damn thing.”
“Okay, Mr. Cranky Pants. Be that way. I’m still not leaving. I’ve got an hour before my shift starts.”
There was nothing he could do to stop her. He was weak. Helpless.
If he’d had any strength left whatsoever, he would have used it to end his miserable life as soon as he realized the Sanguinar were unable to heal him—before they wasted any more precious blood on trying to cure him.
Grace wheeled him to his bed, which was the focal point of his living room. All the equipment it took to keep his sorry ass clean and fed was too big for his bedroom, so now he lived here. All day. Every day.
He craved freedom so badly he was sure it would tear his mind apart. So far, he hadn’t been that lucky.
“Have you heard the news?” she asked as she adjusted his chair until he was lying flat. She attached some straps and cranked the lever that eased him back onto his bed.
This blasted device made it easy for someone as small as Grace to move him around, but it also meant that she didn’t need any help. It meant he had to be alone with her.
The longer he was alone with her, the more of himself he lost. His pride had been the first thing to go. In its place was a burning ball of shame and humiliation he could not escape.
“What news?” he asked, unable to stave off his curiosity about the world outside.
Grace slid her hands inside the waistband of his sweats and peeled them off his legs, leaving him in a pair of boxers. She stared for a bit too long, making him wonder just how ugly his body had become as his flesh wasted away with disuse.
She swallowed visibly before answering. “They found two more women like Helen. They’re here.”
Torr refused to think about what that meant—or at least he tried to. More women so soon after Helen? It didn’t seem possible, and yet it was happening. Maybe she wasn’t some genetic anomaly after all. Maybe his brothers could be saved.
The news did him no good, but he was still glad the rest of the Theronai had hope.
“Do you want to go see them?” she asked.
“No.” He’d never even consider seeing if either one of them was compatible with him as long as his body was useless. And no matter what lies the Sanguinar fed him, Torr was pretty sure they had no idea how to fix his paralysis.
Grace eased the head of the bed up and wrestled with his T-shirt. His muscle mass had started to shrivel away, but with his bulk, he still had to be quite a load for her to maneuver. She wasn’t very big, maybe a few inches over five feet, but she’d never once complained that he was too heavy. Maybe she was stronger than she looked on the outside, too.
Unlike many of his brothers, he still had a healthy number of leaves remaining on his lifemark. He’d always felt blessed not to be suffering like so many others, but that blessing had become a curse. He had years left before his tree was barren, which would force Joseph to end Torr’s life.
She managed to get the shirt over his head, and he got a nice view of her breasts—soft, full breasts she kept hidden behind baggy clothing. He knew they were soft because she’d accidentally brushed his cheek once while she’d undressed him.
