The idea of her out there alone was bad enough, but knowing she was out there alone and suffering was too much for him to stand. He had to find her. Help her. He wasn’t sure what he could do, but he’d figure out something.

He could help.

The thought whispered through his mind, tempting him with things he knew better than to believe. He couldn’t afford to trek up that mountain of hope again. This time the fall would kill him.

His focus had to be on finding her and seeing to her safety. Anything beyond that was too dangerous to risk with him being this close to his end. He had only two leaves left clinging to his lifemark. Once they were gone, his soul would die, and along with it, the fundamental core of him that made him who he was. He couldn’t afford to speed up that process by lying to himself. Rory clearly didn’t want to have anything to do with him. If that didn’t warn him away, he deserved whatever he got.

“I’m going after her.” He tossed the small demon on the gurney. “Cut this thing up and figure out if it’s a threat to her.”

“How are you going to find her?” asked Hope.

Logan set the demon on a metal tray. “Did you leave a bloodmarker on her?”

Cain should have been smart enough to leave a magical tracking mark on her skin, but he hadn’t exactly been thinking straight at the time. Once he’d touched her, all he’d been thinking about was how good it felt. “No.”

“Then you’re going to need her cell phone number. I’m sure Nicholas can track it. And if not, come back here. I’ve smelled her blood. I should be able to find her if she stays in the city.”

“I’ll find her.”

“And when you do?” asked Logan.

“I’ll bring her back here. You can take her to Dabyr.”

“You won’t claim her for your own?”

Hidden dreams tried to bubble to the surface, but Cain shoved them back down. He refused to do this to himself again. “She may be like Jackie. She may be able to choose who she wants. If so, she should have the chance to make that choice.”

“I realize Jackie hurt you, but that doesn’t mean Rory would do the same.”

Cain hadn’t told anyone about that, which meant Logan had gone where he wasn’t welcome.

Fury blasted along Cain’s bones. He lunged for Logan, but the Sanguinar was faster, darting behind a table, out of reach.

“Don’t you dare try to get in my head again,” Cain warned.

Logan held up his hands and kept his voice calm. “I meant no harm. You know as well as I do that Jackie’s ability to bond with any of the Theronai is a rare thing—one Rory is not likely to possess. You also know that Rory will be far more able to protect herself if she has access to your power. I was thinking only of her safety.”

While all of that was true, Cain couldn’t let himself be swayed. He wouldn’t survive another blow like the one Jackie had delivered. She hadn’t done it intentionally, and he couldn’t blame her for making the choice she had, but the effect was still the same. He couldn’t allow himself to grow attached to the idea of Rory or any of the achingly beautiful things she represented. “I’ll bring her back here and you’ll take her to Dabyr. Understood?”

“I know how close you are to the end. If you want her to go to Dabyr, you’ll have to be the one to take her. I won’t help you kill yourself.”

Was that what Cain was trying to do? He didn’t want to die. He fought as hard as he ever had. The only difference was that now he wasn’t doing it to protect his little girl. It was merely habit—something he did because he’d always done it. His vow to protect humans drove him on, compelling him to keep fighting. There didn’t have to be more meaning to his life than that. It was enough.

And if it wasn’t, he’d pretend that it was until it no longer mattered.

“We struck a bargain,” Cain felt compelled to remind him. “I make sure that the demons stay away from Hope’s beloved shelter, and you will end my life once I’m imprisoned below Dabyr, after my soul dies.”

“I’ll uphold my end of the bargain, but I won’t make it easy for you to give up. Think of Sibyl. The poor girl has already lost both parents. Does she deserve to lose you, too?”

The wave of guilt punched him in the gut, but he refused to let the Sanguinar know he’d landed a hit. Cain didn’t even blink. “She made it clear she didn’t need me anymore. She’s a grown woman and has a life of her own now, as it should be.”

“She’s enjoying her newfound freedom now, but one of these days, she’ll need advice or help, and you need to be alive to give it.”

“Don’t you think that’s what I want?” Cain bellowed. “I don’t have a death wish. But I’m a realist. I know how slim the chances are that Rory would ever agree to be with a man like me.”

“Why?”

“You know why,” growled Cain. “You know why Sibyl left. I failed to protect her. My sole job was to keep her safe, and I let the demons steal her away.”

“Rory doesn’t know about that. And you don’t have to tell her.”

“My failure hangs around me like a shroud for all to see. And Rory sees more than most.” Or perhaps he merely felt her gaze more keenly than anyone else.

“So, you’re not even going to ask Rory to save your life?”

He had tried with Jackie. It hadn’t worked out for him, but at least his brother’s life had been saved. He was grateful for that. “I’m not going to discuss this with you. Call me when you know if Rory was poisoned or not. And in the meantime, I’m going to go find her and keep her in sight—the way you should have done.”

“Don’t push her, Cain,” said Hope. “Determination and pride run through her aura as brightly as her fear and pain. She’s not like other women. You push her, and she’ll push back. Hard.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I think I can handle one small woman.”

Maura stayed hidden in the supply closet, waiting for the frantic pounding of her heart to slow. Cain had seen her. She had felt his gaze fall on her, seen it light with recognition. Why he hadn’t come hunting for her, she had no idea.

But his easy recognition answered at least one of Maura’s questions. Sibyl—Maura’s twin sister and Cain’s ward—must have been released from the prison of her child’s body at the same time Maura had. It was the only thing that Maura could think of that would explain how he’d recognized her so easily.

Maura cowered in her hiding place, straining to hear some sign that she was alone—that the giant, Cain, was not waiting for her in the hall.

She’d stayed here too long. These humans who sheltered her believed she was one of them. Even worse, she was starting to feel as if she belonged. She ate beside them, slept beside them. Never once had they questioned her presence among them.

Not one of them knew the things she’d done to them—to their children. If they had, they would have slit her throat in her sleep, and she would have been powerless to stop them. Now.

There had been a time when even the most powerful Synestryn lords feared her. One touch from her and they’d die screaming in pain. But those days were gone. Her power, her ability to see the future, her connection to her sister . . . all stripped from her the day her mother had died and freed Maura from her child-sized body.

She wore the costume of a grown woman, but inside, she was afraid all the time. She belonged nowhere—not among the Sentinels, and certainly not among the humans. She was a twisted, wicked thing who had turned on her own kind out of rebellion, but not even the Synestryn would want her now. With no powers, she’d mean nothing to them. They’d use her for her blood and drain her dry.

It was better to hide, but she could no longer stay here at this shelter—not when the risk of Cain seeing her was so high. Better to leave now, while she still could, because the only thing she could think of that would be worse than being drained of her blood by demons, would be to face those she’d betrayed and watch them look upon her with pity and disappointment.

Maura slipped from the closet and hurried to her bed, being careful not to wake the few other women nearby. Underneath her bed was a locked suitcase that held a few items of clothing and a little cash. She wasn’t sure where she’d go or what she’d do, but there was no more time to linger here, accepting the kindness of those who ran this place. And now that Logan was here with Hope, it was only a matter of time before Maura was found out. She couldn’t avoid him forever.

It was time to leave and find her own way in the world. She only wished the idea didn’t scare her more than any demon ever had.

For the thousandth time, Maura reached for her twin sister, seeking the comfort of her presence. All she felt was the black chill of utter nothingness, leaving her to wonder if Sibyl was even alive. Even if she was, she was beyond reach now.

Maura was truly alone.

Cain thought he could follow Rory? That was cute and all, but that was the one nice thing about her curse: She could see him coming.

And it was Cain. She’d caught a glimpse of his hand, along with her pink hair, and doubted anyone else had hands that big, especially not with those same scars.

She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. She saw nothing. “I know you’re there. You might as well come out.”

This section of the street was dark. There wasn’t any traffic this late. The bars and nightclubs had long since closed. Dawn was still hours away. People were mostly asleep, giving her a bit of a reprieve from her suddenly hyperactive visions. She could still see what they saw, but at least it was the calm, quiet black of the inside of eyelids.

Cain stepped around the corner. He seemed even bigger than he’d been before, looming like some kind of giant. He was imposing, his body giving off ragged, desperate vibrations that called to her. If she hadn’t seen him save her life with her own eyes, she would be running right now.

But she wasn’t running. In fact, the urge to inch closer was nearly overwhelming. She remembered how it felt to be surrounded by his strength, to have the visions disappear, leaving her floating in peaceful serenity. It would be so easy to cross the distance and fling herself at him—beg him to make her problems and fear go away, just for a little while.

If she’d been a weaker person, that’s what she would have done. But weakness like that wasn’t a part of her makeup. It had been burned out of her DNA before birth, preparing her for a life that was harder than most.

She knew fear. She knew pain. Those things were as familiar as old friends. It was her neediness that freaked her out—her desire to get closer to a man she didn’t dare trust.

What if she found the person who stopped her visions and she couldn’t trust them, either? What if she never found a cure?

She couldn’t go there now. That place was a dark, scary one best left behind a locked door of nice, solid denial. She couldn’t possibly face both her deepest fears and Cain at the same time.