“Mind if I sit?” he asked.
They continued to stare for a long moment until the older girl asked, “Are you an angel?”
Logan smiled at that. “Hardly.”
The little boy scooted over, making room for Logan on the couch. Logan sat and felt three pairs of eyes follow his every move. He wasn’t sure whether it was because of his unnatural beauty or whether they feared what he might do.
He sat very still and pretended to watch the TV. Hunger rumbled inside him, and the bone-numbing weariness of too much strain combined with daylight tried to drag him under, but he resisted the pull of sleep. The longer these children waited for care, the harder it would be to help them.
Besides, he couldn’t stand the idea of letting them suffer with their nightmares for even one more day.
Logan gathered up his meager strength and let it trickle out of him. He sent out calming waves of energy to the children, hoping to rid them of any anxiety they might have. The effort left him shaking, but he kept up that subtle flow of power, slow and steady.
The little boy was the first one to react. He climbed up into Logan’s lap, wrapped his skinny arms around his neck, and began to cry.
Logan slid his hand over the boy’s back, hoping to offer comfort.
His tears must have triggered something in the girls, because they joined in the group hug. The younger girl was sobbing and clinging to Logan’s arm, but the older girl’s tears were silent and heartbreaking.
Logan had to fight his body’s need to shut down. Every cell inside him was screaming out in hunger and exhaustion, but he didn’t want to fail these poor little souls. He just needed to keep the flow of power up for a little longer.
Now that the children were receptive, he pushed harder, abandoning subtlety for efficiency. He would need to take their blood to permanently cleanse their memories, but for now, he could fog them—ease the children’s pain long enough for them to rest and eat and recover.
Soon, the tears slowed, then stopped as the children drifted off into a deep, healing sleep. They were still piled on top of him like puppies, seeking out the basic comfort of physical contact. Their warm little bodies held him perfectly still, and Logan’s shirt was tear soaked in several places.
He never should have allowed himself to get this close to them. Having these precious, tiny people clinging to him for comfort made him wish for things he dared not even name.
Sanguinar did not allow themselves to have children. Doing so was considered the pinnacle of selfishness, as those children would be doomed to dwell in darkness and starve for the whole of their long lives.
He and his kind had to be satisfied with enjoying the children of others. Sure, most parents kept their little ones a safe distance from the predators, but right here, right now, there were no parents to keep Logan from reveling in the miracle of these precious children.
He knew he should go. Staying here was only going to be torturous to himself. It was better to never have a taste of something that could never be his, than to get a glimpse of what he was missing.
Time to get up. Time to leave and let the Sentinels take it from here.
One of his legs had gone numb and hunger was now screaming inside him. He was too weak to move, much less stand.
Nicholas was suddenly standing over him, his scarred face staring down at the scene. “Thank you. We thought we were going to have to give them drugs to help them sleep.”
Logan shrugged off the uncomfortable thanks, making the little boy’s head shift on his shoulder. “You’re going to have to help me up so I can sleep, too.”
“Will I wake them if I move them?”
“No. They’re too deeply asleep.”
Nicholas gently picked up each of the children, moved them, and tucked a blanket around their bodies. Logan was working to get the feeling back in his legs so he could stand when Nicholas came back to him.
He offered Logan his wrist. “Go ahead. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
The offer so freely given startled Logan. He was used to having to fight for every drop of blood. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing and took the blood Nicholas had offered. It flowed into him, warm and rich with power, quieting the worst of his hunger.
Logan didn’t want to prevent such an act of kindness from happening again, so he took only what he needed to make it back to his suite. Sleep would help strengthen him, and then he could go hunting once night had fallen.
Nicholas pulled him to his feet.
“Thank you,” said Logan.
“No big deal. Get some rest. I’m sure Joseph will have plenty for you to do come nightfall.”
Logan took one last look at the children to make sure they were all sleeping soundly, then turned and walked away. They no longer needed him. It was time to go.
The darkness of his windowless sleeping room below called to him. He wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed and find the oblivion of sleep, but he couldn’t bear going to bed without washing up first.
He stripped out of his coat and clothing and headed for the bathroom. When he walked inside, he stopped dead in his tracks. The smell of fresh blood filled his nose, making his belly rumble. It wasn’t just any blood, either. This blood was pure. Perfect. Undiluted by humans. The blood of an Athanasian.
On his mirror, scrawled in an awkward script, were words written in that blood. There was an address, and below that he read: “You have not been forgotten. You are not alone.”
Logan stood there for a long time, staring. He had no idea what the words meant or who could have written them, but there was one thing he did know. For the first time in decades, he felt the faintest stirring of hope.
Later that night Nika stood in the doorway of her old room—the one where Tori now slept. She was in bad shape. Whatever the Synestryn had done to her was going to take a long time to undo.
Tynan had checked her out on the drive home and he wasn’t even sure it was possible. Nika had kept that news from Andra to protect her. Tori needed Andra to be strong, not wallowing in shame and regret.
Nika was still weak from battle and blood loss, but moving around felt good. For the first time in almost a decade, her mind was her own. She could still sense a connection with Synestryn, but they were no longer calling the shots. Nika was.
They cowered in their dank hidey-holes, fearing her, knowing she could destroy them with a mere thought.
Nika didn’t, though. She had other plans for those creatures. She was going to use them—force them to be her eyes and ears among the enemy. All those beasts cowering in the dark were now her army, and she was going to use them to ensure that no other child ever suffered the way Zillah had made her sister suffer.
“Those are not restful thoughts, love,” said Madoc. His strong hands slid over her shoulders, pulling her back against his broad chest. “Tynan said you needed to rest, remember?”
“I will. Once I know Tori is better.”
“She’ll pull through,” he said. “She’s strong, just like the rest of the Madison women.”
“Tori will get better fast. You’ll see.”
“I’m sure she will,” said Madoc.
“Tynan said I could try to use my mind to rid her of the Synestryn blood once I’m strong enough. He’s going to do the same. At least I don’t have to drink it to filter it out.” She shivered at the disgusting thought.
Madoc nodded, his chin brushing her hair. “I saw the blisters on his mouth. I can’t imagine that’s any kind of fun for him.”
“Sunlight might help, too. Once she can tolerate it.” The first accidental brush of sunlight on her skin on the way home had been horrible, leaving Tori screaming and convulsing in pain.
“We’ll do whatever it takes.”
“I hope Tori will, too.”
“Of course she will. Why would you think otherwise?”
“She wouldn’t let Tynan take her memories. He offered, but she refused.”
“Did she say why?” he asked.
“No. I have no idea.”
Nika grabbed his hands and wrapped them around her, savoring his warmth. “Even if her body heals, she still has a long way to go. Her mind ...” She couldn’t bring herself to think about it too long. Tori had spent years being abused. For all they knew she might never be normal. Never be happy.
“We’ll be here for her. We’re her family and we’ll do whatever it takes to see her well again.”
Nika felt a swelling of love for him burst inside her. She hadn’t known love like this existed until Madoc. It was consuming, powerful—the kind of magic that melded hearts together and changed reality. It made her tremble, while at the same time filling her with strength.
With Madoc by her side, she felt like there was nothing she couldn’t do—nowhere she wouldn’t be safe. He was her everything, and even though Tori was so sick and hurt, with Madoc holding her, she felt hope. For the first time since the night her family was destroyed, Nika felt like she had a future.
She was going to do everything in her power to see to it that it was a bright one. For all of them.
Tori pretended to be asleep while Nika stood over her. She’d gotten really good at pretending over the years.
The idea of having all those horrible memories erased was getting harder to resist. Tori couldn’t shut her eyes without feeling like she was back in that cave, cold and alone.
But she wasn’t alone now. She had a powerful group of people who felt sorry for her. Poor little Tori. Been through so much.
Their pity disgusted her. It made her feel small and weak, like a child, when the truth was she hadn’t been a child for a very long time.
She had been through a lot, but she wasn’t going to let it stop her from the one thing she wanted to do more than anything else in the world, and for that, she needed her memories intact.
She was going to get healthy, get strong, and kill Zillah. By the time she was done with him, he was going to wish he’d never laid eyes on her. She was going to return tenfold every hurt, every chill, every pang of hunger and sickness he’d caused over the years. She was going to make him pay for her life and the lives of all the other children he’d stolen. And then, when he’d screamed his last scream and finally filled up the yawning void inside Tori, she was going to kill him and feed him to his guards.
She had his blood in her veins, and there wasn’t a place on Earth he could go where she wouldn’t find him.
