She reached out and put her hand on Gilda’s shoulder. Her voice was soft, but rang with confidence. “I can find your daughter,” she told them.
“Daughter? Sibyl isn’t their daughter,” said Paul.
No one paid attention to him. All eyes were on Andra. Especially Gilda’s. “How?”
Andra shrugged. “Finding the lost is what I do.”
Gilda pushed away from Angus and took Andra’s hand in her dainty grip. Tears streamed down her face. “I can’t lose her, too,” whispered Gilda. “Please find my baby. Bring her back to me.”
Andra closed her eyes as if trying to block out the sight of the anguish on Gilda’s face. Paul could feel her struggling against herself, her heart and mind warring against each other. Finally, she pulled in a deep, resigned breath. “I promise.”
Andra crumpled to the ground, helpless under the weight of her vow to a grieving mother.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” said Paul. He knelt beside her, running his hands over her face and arms as if worried she’d been hurt.
“What choice did I have? I’ve always been a sucker for a grieving parent. You’d think I would have learned my lesson by now.” She pulled herself together and gathered what little strength she had left. “Besides, if Sibyl can help Nika, then I need her back, too.”
“Thank you,” said Angus. “For whatever you’re able to do.”
“I need to go see where she was taken from. The longer I wait to do this, the harder it will get.”
“Do what?”
She waved him off. She still wasn’t comfortable talking about her talent. “Can you show me where her room is?”
“You need to rest first.”
“No time. I wouldn’t say no to a big cup of coffee, though.”
Angus said, “There’s another way. Paul, you can pull strength from the earth and feed it into her. It’s not safe to do for long, but it will keep her going for a while more.”
“Do it,” said Andra.
Paul looked as though he might argue, but then nodded his head. “As you wish, my lady.”
Chapter 26
Paul took Andra to Sibyl’s room and stood unobtrusively in the corner while she looked around. Nothing had been moved since they’d discovered Sibyl gone, and the room was perfectly neat, with everything in its place. Even the frilly, ruffled curtains were undisturbed above the gaping window. The only sign that a child had been in this room was the rumpled pink bedding that had been half pulled out the window. Apparently, Sibyl had been ripped from beneath her blankets while she slept.
The second bedroom in Sibyl’s suite, the one where her bodyguard, Cain, slept, was a different story. That room was a total wreck. Furniture was shattered where Cain or the Synestryn he’d fought had slammed into it. His red blood was splattered across the walls and carpet, but no oily black blood had been found. The Sanguinar still weren’t sure whether Cain was going to live or not.
Paul prayed they wouldn’t lose him. Of all the men here, he was the one who had resisted the decay of time the best. Maybe it was his role as protector of a child that had kept his soul young and kept his lifemark healthy and strong. If so, then what was going to happen to him now that he’d failed in that role?
Maybe it would be kinder if he did die. At least then he wouldn’t have to suffer through the guilt of knowing he’d let Sibyl down.
Paul sighed. There was too much darkness in their world right now. They all needed Andra to succeed and bring back their only remaining child.
Andra glided through the room, picking up random objects here and there. She picked up Sibyl’s favorite doll, which had fallen to the floor next to the bed. Its glassy black eyes stared up at her. She stroked the doll’s ringlet curls, and Paul was certain he’d seen the glitter of tears in Andra’s eyes for just a moment before she blinked them away.
Paul ached to go to her and comfort her, but he didn’t dare interfere. Sibyl had to be found.
“How did you know?” he asked her.
“Know what?”
“That Sibyl was Gilda’s daughter.”
“I’ve seen that look too many times before to mistake it for anything else. There’s no other look quite as helpless and desperate as that of a parent who has lost their child.”
It made sense, but it also made Paul question why he hadn’t known who Sibyl really was. Why wouldn’t that have been common knowledge?
“I really wish you’d leave me alone for a while,” she told Paul.
“Sorry. Not going to happen.” He couldn’t have walked away from her now if she’d put a sword to his throat. She needed him, whether or not she wanted to admit it.
Andra sighed. “You’re not going to make fun of me?” There was a flash of insecurity across her face that surprised Paul. He’d never seen her be anything but confident, and that little show of insecurity had him wishing he could pull her into his arms and comfort her.
“Never. How could I when you’re here helping me?”
“I have to pretend I’m her. Sleep in her bed. Relive what she saw that night. It feels silly doing it, but it’s what works.” She swallowed hard, and the only sign of her fear was the fine trembling of her fingers around the doll.
So, she didn’t just have a knack for finding the lost children. She had a gift—one that had to be grounded in magic, if what she was saying were true. Paul made a mental note to pass that information along. It might help the other men find more women like her.
“How does it work?” he asked.
“I connect with them. I go to the place where their fear began and I follow that fear.”
Paul had known Sibyl all his life and had never seen her afraid. She wasn’t like normal children. She hadn’t aged a day in several hundred years, and she could see the future. “What if they don’t feel fear?” asked Paul.
Andra lifted one smooth shoulder. “How could a child not feel fear when she’s forcibly taken from her home?”
If she’s not truly a child, thought Paul, but he didn’t voice his worry. She needed her confidence right now. “I suppose that’s true. You’ll just have to give it a try.”
Andra nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you know what she was wearing last night?”
“Not exactly, but she loved frilly things. All soft pastels with little bits of lace at the neck.”
“And this doll. Did she sleep with it?”
“Probably. It was always with her.”
Andra lay down on the bed and pulled the covers up over her. She cradled the doll to her chest and closed her eyes. “Give me some time in silence, okay?”
Paul leaned against the door and let himself stare. He loved watching her. She was beautiful. So precious. The childish things sitting about the room kept a lid on his ever-present lust, but it did little to stop a tightness in his chest from forming as he watched her.
He loved her so much. He had to figure out a way to convince her to stay here and be with him. She’d refused his proposal, but she still hadn’t taken off the ring he’d given her. The gold band gleamed around her finger, giving Paul a deep sense of satisfaction. No wonder so many human men liked to adorn their women in that fashion, telling all other men they were taken.
If only she’d agreed to wear it forever rather than rejecting him. Not that he blamed her. After what he’d tried to do to her last night, it was a wonder she hadn’t thrown the ring back at him, or made him choke on it.
Minutes ticked by and Paul stayed silent, not daring to move for fear of ruining her concentration. After a while, he wondered if she’d just fallen asleep. He knew how tired she was—how thinly stretched she must be after the battle.
He was just about to go to her when he saw her body stiffen. Her breathing sped up and her grip tightened on the doll. Paul was halfway across the room before he stopped himself. What if this was supposed to happen?
“I see her,” said Andra in a voice that sounded faint and distant. “The monsters have her.”
“What kind of monsters?” Paul asked before he could stop himself.
Andra didn’t answer his question, but he wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t hear him or because she didn’t know how to answer. She hadn’t been raised among his kind and she might not know the names for various types of Synestryn.
“She’s alive. Thirsty. She’s not scared. How can she not be scared?” Andra’s tone was full of wonder before it turned frightened. “Oh, God! They see me. They know me.”
Paul felt panic clog his throat, making it hard to breathe. She’d made some sort of connection with the Synestryn, and that could not be a good thing.
He knelt at Andra’s side and shook her. “Come back, honey,” he urged. He pulled her limp body into his arms and kept shaking her, hoping to bring her out of whatever trance or dream she was in. “Wake up.”
“How can they know me?” She gasped and her body jerked. “They want my blood. My family’s blood. They’ve had Tori’s and Nika’s, and now they want mine.”
“Wake up!” shouted Paul, and he forced a spike of power into his words, compelling her to obey.
Andra’s eyes opened and fear bleached the color from her face.
Paul pulled her close and rocked her body like a child. “You’re okay now,” he soothed. “You’re going to be okay.”
“No. I’m not,” she said. “I can’t do this.”
“Why not? What went wrong?”
“The monsters took Sibyl to the same place where they killed my baby sister.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I . . . sensed that she’d been there.” She shook her head as if trying to make sense out of it. “I’ve looked for years to find her body so I could bury her next to Mom. Even though I can feel it, I’ve never been able to find that place, no matter how hard I try. It’s too well hidden.” Her fingers dug into his back and she whispered against his neck, “I’ve already failed, Paul. Sibyl was taken to the same place Tori was, and I’ll never be able to find it.”
Andra took deep breaths, trying to calm herself enough to think straight. The weight of failure bore down on her, driving all hope away.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” said Paul. His big hands were stroking over her back, trying to ease away some of her tension. “We’ll find Sibyl together.”
Even if she did know where to go, how could she go there? How could she face that place knowing she’d already let it kill Tori? “What if we can’t?”
Andra could feel the force of her vow to Gilda pulling at her, demanding she try again. The place she’d been was so dark and filled with evil, she didn’t want to go back. She didn’t want to face what had happened to Tori. What she’d let happen to the little girl who’d trusted Andra to keep her safe.
“We can,” said Paul, complete confidence strengthening his tone. “You may not have been able to succeed before, but you’ve got me now. You’ve got all my strength, too.”