He gave her a little formal bow of his head. “Of course, my lady.”
Chapter 10
Madoc wished he was anywhere else but standing beside Nika’s bed. He had no business being here, but Andra had claimed Nika had asked for him.
She’d asked and he’d practically broken the land-speed record getting back to her side.
So much for his good intentions to keep his distance. Madoc stood there, stiff and uneasy, unsure what to do now that he was here. He should never have come.
Nika barely made a lump in the bed. Her white hair had been washed and brushed until it shone, and it was fanned out around her head. She was thin, fragile, almost ethereal. Breakable. If he got too close, he was sure he’d accidentally hurt her.
Andra looked at him expectantly, like he had all the answers.
“What the fuck do you want me to do?” he asked
“I don’t know. Just sit with her and hold her hand, I guess.”
“I’m not touching her,” he told Andra.
She ground her back teeth in frustration. “Fine. Then just sit your ass down until she wakes up again.”
Oh, no. He wasn’t going to be locked into babysitting duty. He had sgath to kill. He was up to seventy-two kills so far this week. If he had anything to say about it, he’d exterminate the fuckers from the face of the planet before year’s end.
Maybe then Nika would be okay.
“I can only stay a few minutes,” said Madoc.
Andra’s jaw clenched and her mouth tightened like she didn’t want to spit out the words. “Your safety was the first thing on her mind after being unconscious for more than a week. I’d think you could be a little more caring.”
No, he couldn’t. Caring was for men with souls. His was shriveled up. Only the frigid black ring he wore kept the last leaf on his lifemark from completing its fall. That leaf hung in stasis over his ribs, frozen midfall. His lifemark was bare. His soul was as good as dead. He didn’t care about anything anymore but killing and fucking. And Nika wasn’t good for either of those.
Still, he’d made an oath as one of the Band of the Barren—the secret, invitation-only group of Theronai that kept those with bare trees like him from being discovered and sent to their deaths. He’d promised to pretend he was still one of the good guys so none of them would be discovered. If one of the Band was outed, he knew every Theronai alive would be searched for signs of treachery. The fake leaves tattooed on his lifemark wouldn’t fool anyone looking too closely. For now he had to play the part as he’d promised Iain he would. He had to act like he would have before his soul had died.
It was either that, or let them send him to the Slayers to be murdered along with all of the other brothers in the Band.
Not a fucking chance.
Madoc let out a long sigh, and eased himself onto the edge of the bed. Nika’s body shifted toward the depression in the mattress.
He tensed, worried she’d bump into him and get bruised or something. But she didn’t. She didn’t even touch him, which was for the best. At least that was what he tried to tell himself.
Andra looked at her watch. “Joseph said that three more Theronai reported back here to come see Nika. They should be here soon.”
“Fine. Let one of them play babysitter.”
Andra’s long body flopped into a chair and she covered her face with her hands. She looked tired, and Madoc had a split second of worry for her. Odd.
“I hope to God one of them is compatible with her. Tynan says it might save her, restore her sanity.”
Madoc’s stomach clenched against a punch of jealousy. He didn’t want any other Theronai near her, as stupid as that was. He wanted to be the one to save her, which was utterly ridiculous. He’d been near her for long enough to know it wasn’t going to happen.
In fact, based on the speed at which his ring was losing its color—its life—he was out of time for miracles of any kind. Even if a compatible woman walked through the door right now, it might not be soon enough. Once the colors were gone, he wouldn’t be able to bond with anyone, compatible or not. He’d be broken, a wasted shell of what he was born to be.
“What? No empty words of hope?” asked Andra. Her eyes were shut, like she was too tired to bother keeping them open.
“Hope is for people who haven’t pulled their heads out of their asses far enough to see reality,” said Madoc.
“Ah. An optimist. Lovely.” She let out a wide yawn.
Madoc snorted. “Go take a nap. I’ll stay until the others get here.”
A knock sounded on the main door of Paul and Andra’s suite. “Looks like you’re off the hook,” said Andra. “They’re here.”
She left the room and was gone longer than he’d expected. Maybe she was interviewing them or something.
Eventually, she came back with a trail of three Theronai behind her. Each one had a smear of blood on his shirt from where he’d given Nika his oath to protect her.
She looked a little green, and more than a little uneasy as she stepped aside and let the men see Nika.
Madoc knew all of them, of course. He’d been fighting by their sides on and off for several centuries. That didn’t mean he trusted them. Not around Nika. He was going to stay put until they left.
Or until one of their rings started reacting to her.
Just the idea was almost more than he could stomach. He clenched his fists and stood from the bed. He didn’t want an up-close view of the show to come.
Nika let out a small whimper, so low he wasn’t sure Andra had heard it. If so, she made no reaction.
Madoc frowned and held himself back from going to check on her. He could see the even rise and fall of her breathing from here. That was going to have to be good enough.
“Gentlemen,” said Andra. “This is my sister, Nika.”
The hopeful, reverent looks on their faces made Madoc want to pound his fists into something. How dare they look at her like that—like she was already theirs?
Neal stepped forward first. He still wore his leather jacket, likely fresh from the hunt. His dark hair was dusty, and there was a smear of dirt on his cheek. He hadn’t even bothered to take a fucking shower before coming here.
Fucker.
He looked at her with eyes that glittered with intelligence. A laugh line at the corner of his mouth deepened as he smiled. He reached out toward Nika’s bony, frail hand and it was all Madoc could do to stay on his side of the room.
He wanted to sweep Nika up in his arms and take her away from all this. She was too weak to have these men pawing at her.
Neal watched his ring as he took her limp hand in his. Madoc watched, too.
Nothing happened. His ring’s colors stayed fixed.
Nika whimpered and pulled her hand away.
Madoc let out a long sigh of relief and Andra’s sharp gaze met his. “Problem?” she asked.
“No,” growled Madoc, giving her his patented fuck off scowl.
“Anything?” she asked Neal.
The man’s face fell, wiping out all signs of laugh lines from his face. “Nothing.”
Andra nodded once, and motioned for the next man to step up. This one was Morgan Valens, womanizer extraordinaire. He didn’t waste time, simply walked up and stroked his dark-skinned hand over Nika’s cheek.
Madoc was going to have to kill the fucker for touching her so intimately. His hand was on his sword, ready to do just that when Morgan stepped back, almost stumbling away from her.
Nika’s eyes popped open and stared at Morgan in horror. A high, pained sound rose up from her throat, and Madoc crossed the space to her side. Before he realized what he was doing, he was sitting on the bed and had pulled Nika practically into his lap.
She saw him and her clear blue eyes filled up with tears. “You came back,” she said and buried her face against his neck.
Morgan shook his head, looking like he’d seen a ghost or something. “I don’t know what that woman is, but she’s not for me.”
“How can you be sure?” asked Andra. “She had some kind of reaction to your touch.”
“Not a good one. Believe me.”
Andra put her hand on Nika’s arm. “Nika, baby, are you okay?”
Nika’s arms went up around Madoc’s neck and she hung on tighter. When she didn’t respond, Andra said to Madoc, “Check and make sure she’s not hurt.”
Like he was some doctor. Shit.
Madoc didn’t know how to dislodge Nika without touching her, and if he touched her, he might hurt her, too.
As carefully as he could, he tugged her away from his neck and checked her face for damage. “Did that fucker hurt you?” he asked.
Nika’s skin was red and a welt had risen where Morgan had touched her. She nodded her head, her eyes bright with tears. “Yes.”
Madoc was going to have to kill him. There was simply no way around it.
Morgan’s usual smile was nowhere to be found. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, Nika. Truly. I won’t touch you again.” He left the room like it was on fire and Madoc was glad to see him go.
Neal gave Nika one last longing look, and then left right behind Morgan.
Samuel Larsten stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Nika. Madoc had to squelch the urge to curl his body around Nika and hide her from his sight.
“Maybe I can help,” said Samuel in a quiet, smooth voice. “I’d very much like to help you, Nika.”
Her body quivered against Madoc’s. He could feel her bones poking him wherever they touched. She was weak. Fragile. He wanted her to rest and heal.
Despite what Madoc wanted, Nika needed to find the man who was meant to protect her. For all he knew, that man was Samuel.
He reached out toward her. His left hand was covered in burn scars, making his ring almost glow clean and pristine in contrast.
Nika looked at his hand and sucked in a breath.
“Ugly, huh?” asked Samuel with a self-conscious smile. “Sorry about that.”
“I don’t want you to hurt me,” she told him.
“I don’t want that either. If you want, I can come back later,” said Samuel.
Nika’s throat moved as she swallowed nervously. Her fingers found Madoc’s hand and she squeezed hard. The skin where Neal had touched her was red, too, and he thought he could see small blisters forming along her delicate skin.
Samuel looked past Nika to Madoc. “Your touch doesn’t seem to hurt her. Are you sure she’s not yours?”
Madoc said nothing. Instead, he held up his left hand, showing Samuel his faded ring.
Samuel’s face blanched and he gave a short, curt nod. “I see.”
He saw Madoc was out of time, and yet he didn’t gloat or show even the smallest sign of relief. A spark of respect for the man lit up inside Madoc. If Nika was going to end up with anyone besides him, he wanted it to be a man like Samuel.
“Give him your hand, Nika,” urged Madoc.
“No.” She curled her legs under her and scooted farther onto his lap.
“He’s not going to hurt you.”
“The others did,” said Nika.
Andra looked from Samuel to Nika with that same kind of hope he’d seen in the men. Madoc wasn’t privy to everything Tynan had told Andra about Nika’s condition, but it was clear she thought this was Nika’s best shot, which meant it probably was.