Until Hope. Her blood was powerful in a way he hadn’t experienced for years. It was rivaled only by a few Theronai women, such as Helen, who’d been recently discovered—women whose blood was carefully guarded by their dangerous, sword-wielding husbands.
Once again he wondered if Hope might be one of them—a Theronai, the child of an Athanasian man and a human woman. It was possible. The women they’d found had no idea what they really were. Hope could be one more.
And if so, then the stirring in his groin when he looked upon her was more than inconvenient. It was forbidden. If she was a Theronai, touching her could start a war. If she was a Slayer, touching her could get him killed. If she was human, she belonged to Project Lullaby, and touching her would be akin to betraying his own kind.
Perhaps it was time to call in one of the Theronai. They were far better suited to protect her than Logan was—at least once the power Hope’s blood had given him was gone and he was once again weak.
He found himself resisting the idea of handing her safekeeping to another. He’d found her. He’d fed from her. He’d bargained with her. They were tied together.
That was the thought that spurred Logan to action. He was already growing too attached to the woman, and whether she was human, Theronai, or Slayer, that simply could not stand.
Logan retrieved his phone and dialed Joseph, the Theronai leader. Let him send someone to see to her safety and test her identity. If she was a Theronai, one of her own kind would know. If she wasn’t, she’d be in safe hands until such time as Logan or Tynan could find her a suitable mate. It was the safest course of action—one that would preserve the power flowing through her veins, and prevent Logan from doing something unforgivable.
Chapter 8
It was still early in the evening when Iain finished cleaning out the nest and went back to his Suburban.
Fucking demons hadn’t even put up enough of a fight to make him breathe hard. And the paltry battle sure as hell hadn’t done a thing to ease the pain swelling in his chest more with every day that passed.
He would have thought that after his soul died off some of that pain would have gone away. But no. No such luck.
His blood was running hot and he was way past the point where meditation would do him any good. The only thing that would help now was more fighting.
Iain pulled up an electronic map on his phone. Nicholas had rigged the thing to pinpoint the known locations of the child-face abominations. He selected the little pink dot that indicated his current location and deleted it. The next closest one was northern Kansas, which was a good two-hour drive on backcountry roads.
He hoped like hell that by the time he got there, the pain wouldn’t be any worse. Too much more and he wouldn’t be able to fight. And that he simply could not stand.
Iain put the vehicle in gear and headed for a road. He’d made a bit of a mess of some farmer’s field getting out here, but there was no help for that. At least he’d taken care of their infestation.
He’d just eased back onto a pitted blacktop road when he heard a noise rise up from behind him. It was low. Faint. More a brush of air than a sound.
A slow, satisfied smile stretched his mouth as he pulled to the side of the road.
Apparently, one of the demons had slipped past him and hitched a ride with the wrong man.
Ava’s body clenched hard, driving the breath from her lungs. The baby was coming. Right now.
She huddled under the blanket she’d found, crouched in the far backseat of the big SUV, trying to be quiet. She curled around her child, hugging her knees as close as possible in an effort to ward off the pain. A coppery taste filled her mouth as she bit down on her lip, struggling to be silent in the face of so much pain.
The tires bounced, jostling her hard. A second later, the car tilted sideways as it was parked in a deep ditch.
A car door opened, but Ava didn’t dare lift her head to peer out a window to see where they were. They hadn’t been driving long enough yet for her to have made a clean escape. She was still too close to the caves.
The back door at her feet was ripped open. The man she’d seen in the cave was standing there, holding a gleaming sword, looking ready to kill her. His face was a snarl of rage and veins in his neck stood out.
Fear, her faithful companion these long months, was there at her side, holding her close, refusing to let go. She held her dirty hands up as if they could do anything to shield her from his blade.
Her voice came out raw and scratchy from the fight to keep from screaming. “Please don’t hurt me.”
The man’s expression altered from rage to suspicion, but his blade stayed high and ready to strike. “Who are you? And how the hell did you get in my ride?”
“I was in those caves. I escaped. I didn’t know where else to go.”
She started to ask for his help, but her words were cut off as another wave of pain crushed her body. This time, there was nothing she could do to stop a low moan of agony.
“Are you hurt?” The man sheathed his sword, leaned inside, and grabbed her arms. He pulled on her, but her body was too tense to cooperate as he tried to pull her from the car.
She couldn’t speak. Pressure grew inside her as her body contracted. There was a wrenching kind of pain. She felt her skin tear as the baby’s head crowned.
Ava pushed the blanket away and reached between her legs, heedless of her lack of clothing. The jeans she’d been wearing when she was taken hadn’t fit her for months. Even the stretchy T-shirt she wore couldn’t cover her belly. Her immodesty had stopped having meaning a long time ago, and she only vaguely remembered now that there had been a time when she cared.
The man jerked the blanket away, finally seeing what was going on. “You’re pregnant.”
“Not for long,” she grated out between clenched teeth.
“Hell. Hold on.” He didn’t look worried. Simply resigned.
“Have you done this before?” she asked him.
“What?”
“Delivered a baby.”
“Yeah. Couple of times.”
That made her feel better. Safer. And then another contraction hit and all she could feel was pain and pressure. Her body took over, forcing her to bare down. Another searing sting burned her as the baby’s shoulders passed. Her child slid from her. The pressure faded, leaving her panting for breath. She caught her baby’s slippery body and brought him up to her chest.
She had a baby boy. A wave of something nameless and profound washed over her, altering her forever. She was a mom. In this single, still moment, nothing else mattered.
Her boy let out his first choked cry. It grew louder as the seconds passed, reassuring her as nothing else could.
She’d done it. She’d delivered a healthy baby despite the torture she’d endured for almost a year.
The man was hunched over, his body filling the doorway. He was staring at her with an odd look on his face. A kind of resignation. “I’ll find something to tie off the cord.”
The wetness beneath her began to cool, making her shiver. She covered them both, reveling in the squawking cries of her boy.
The man came back a moment later with two strips of frayed cloth. She allowed him to tie off the cord and sever it with a sharp knife.
Something hot and wet slid from between her legs, followed by a gush of fluid.
The man glanced down and a grim look tightened his hard features. “You’re bleeding. I need to get you to a doctor.”
It was his speed that gave away the urgency of the situation. So far, his movements had been methodical and easy—fast but not rushed.
He was rushing now.
As the car jolted over the road, Ava held her baby, protecting him from the rough ride as well as she could. She could feel the slow trickle of blood flowing from her, but didn’t know what to do to stop it. She wadded the blanket up between her thighs and clenched them together.
“Hold on,” said the man. “Bump.”
The car lurched, going airborne for a second before landing hard. Ava was getting nauseated from the ride, but she didn’t dare sit up and look out a window. Moving might make the bleeding worse.
She heard him talk to someone on the phone, but couldn’t hear the words over the roar of the engine. All she could hear was the pissed-off tone in his voice.
“How much farther?” she asked.
“Not much. You just hold on.”
“I’m cold. Can you turn on the heat?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, then responded with, “Sure.”
The next time they went over a big bump, Ava’s arms didn’t seem to work. Her baby shifted and she had to struggle to keep him safe against her chest. When her head began to spin, she realized that the weakness wasn’t a simple mistake. The blanket between her legs was soaked.
She was bleeding out.
Her vision blurred, going dark around the edges. She focused on her baby and swallowed a lump of regret. She wanted to see him grow up. Wanted to play with him and teach him things. She wanted to protect him from the monsters that had taken her.
They’d put this baby inside her. She knew they were going to want him back.
Her strength was fading. She wasn’t going to make it much longer. She forced her voice out so it was loud enough for the man to hear. “Promise me you’ll take care of him.”
“That’s your job.”
“It’s yours now. Promise me.” Her voice was getting weaker. She wasn’t sure if he heard her. If so, he didn’t answer.
Ava could no longer keep her eyes open. She was so cold. She kissed her baby’s head and gathered her strength for one last plea for help. “Please,” she said. “Protect my son.”
Iain didn’t dare give his promise. If that child was one of the abominations, it was his job to kill it. From what little he’d seen, he couldn’t tell if there were signs of Synestryn blood flowing through the infant’s veins, but with her in that cave, pregnant and alone, chances were good the father wasn’t human.
Several silent minutes passed as Iain sped over the rutted road. She didn’t speak again.
“Are you still with me?” he asked.
When she didn’t answer, he knew she was either dead or unconscious. And that the child was back there, unrestrained.
If it was human, he could kill it if he hit a bump the wrong way.
Iain slowed the Suburban and pulled off the road. He got out and drew his sword before approaching the back door. If the child came springing toward him, fangs bared, he was going to be ready for it.
Logan found more blood on the second floor. He crouched next to the spot. It was fresh, only a few drops, but enough to know it was from a heavily blooded human male. And he’d shed it tonight.
Hope let out a breath laced with fear. “Is that . . . ?”
“I think it’s time to get you out of here,” said Logan. “I’ll continue my search and find you when I’m done.”
“You don’t even know where I live.”
He stood and looked in her eyes. The need to reach out and stroke her cheek slammed into him, blindsiding him. He fisted his hands in the pockets of his coat to keep from touching her. “I have your blood inside me. I’ll be able to find you.”
