The power of her promise wound around him, giving him hope that almost felt like warmth, but not quite. “There’s one more thing,” he said.
“What?”
Alexander gathered her in his arms and turned on his magic, seeing the faint glow of blue light wash across her face—a glow that came from his eyes. Ensnaring her was easy enough; it barely took any energy at all, which was good, considering he had so little to spare. “I’m going to need some of your blood.”
“Blood?” she asked in a faint whisper. She was beyond fear now, floating in a light trance where normal inhibitions meant nothing.
“Just a little,” he said, lowering his mouth to her fragile neck. “Just enough to drive away your illness. I need you to be nice and healthy for your trip.”
Chapter 19
Nika roamed the halls of Dabyr, following the faint trail of power left in Madoc’s wake.
He was avoiding her, but she didn’t care. She needed him. He was the only thing that kept the sgath from taking her away, out of her body. Surely he wouldn’t leave without at least saying good-bye.
Then again, maybe she hadn’t told him with her voice how much she needed him. Sometimes she mixed up the things she said with those she thought, so she couldn’t be sure.
Where was he? She needed to find him before it was too late and he left her alone.
Nika didn’t want to be with the sgath tonight; she didn’t want them to rip her from her body and fling her out into the darkness. Every time she was with them it made her sick, and she didn’t want to throw up the food she’d managed to choke down earlier. She wanted to be stronger, healthy, like her sister Andra was.
It was the only way she was ever going to find her sister, Tori. The real Tori, not those stranger’s bones Andra had buried.
But healthy and strong were a long way off. Her body was fragile, her bones brittle. It was going to take time to rebuild her strength, and the only time it was even possible was when Madoc was there to drive the dark things away long enough for her to eat.
A wave of weakness hit her and she sagged against the wall. The sgath out hunting pulled on her mind, clawing at it, threatening to tear it apart into little bloody chunks. They wanted her to come hunt with them, to feed on the flesh and blood of the humans they found.
They used her to communicate with each other. She was sure of it.
There were fewer of them now, thanks to Madoc and the other Theronai who had made hunting them their top priority. But the sgath that remained were stronger. Smarter. Louder. She had trouble resisting their call.
Nika couldn’t stand the thought of going with them tonight. She needed Madoc, so she pushed herself up and followed the humming stream of power he had left behind as she drifted through the silent halls of Dabyr.
The trail ended at a door like all the rest of the doors in this hall. Nika turned the knob, found it unlocked, and pushed it open.
The suite was dark, but a flickering rectangle of light glowed on the carpet, falling from the open doorway of one of the bedrooms.
Madoc’s trail led there, so she followed it into the light.
A large bed filled the room, and on it was a giant of a man. He was handsome in a rough sort of way, and several days of stubble shadowed his jaw. A bandage covered his left temple and several bruises marked his face with sickly greens and yellows. His hands were huge, lying at his sides, and next to the bed sat Sibyl with her tiny child-sized hand wrapped around two of the man’s thick fingers.
In her other arm, she cradled a porcelain doll that looked just like her, wearing a pretty blue ribbon in her hair.
The doll’s glassy black eyes opened and looked at Nika. Malevolence flowed out of the thing, making Nika take a hesitant step back.
A second later, Sibyl looked up slowly. Her blond ringlets drooped limply over her shoulders and a haunted shadow darkened her bright blue eyes. She was afraid.
The girl showed no surprise at Nika’s arrival, as if she’d been expecting her all along.
“Come and sit with me,” said Sibyl.
Nika hesitated. Madoc wasn’t here. She could feel the emptiness of this place without him, and the need to seek him out grew stronger with every breath she took.
Still, he had come here. Maybe this man was important to him. Maybe they were friends. “Who is he?” asked Nika.
Sibyl’s voice cracked as if she hadn’t used it in days. “Cain. My bodyguard.”
“Is he sick?” she asked.
“He was wounded the night I was taken. The Sanguinar have done all they can.”
“Andra told me you can see the future. Don’t you know what will happen?”
Grief hung on her words, making them fade as they went on. “Not to Cain. That’s why I allowed him in my life. He was . . . quiet.”
Nika’s weak legs began to shake with weakness now that she was no longer walking. She stepped forward and eased herself down on the bed, being careful not to touch the man lying there. She couldn’t bear the touch of any man but Madoc.
“He was here earlier, checking on Cain,” said Sibyl as if reading her mind. “He just left to go hunting.”
“Did he say when he’d be back?”
“No.”
Briefly, Nika considered asking the seer when he’d come home, but she pushed the notion away. Sibyl was clearly suffering, aching for the man lying on the bed.
Nika was going to have to answer the call of the sgath and go find Madoc for herself.
“How long has he been like this?” she asked the child.
“Nearly two weeks. He grows weaker every day. I cannot stop it.”
“Do you think you should be able to stop it?”
Sibyl shrugged, shifting the doll in her arms. The thing was still staring at Nika, and her stomach gave a twist. “If he were anyone else, I’d know what to do, even if that was knowing it was time to let go.”
“Do you think that’s what he’d want? For you to let go?”
“Cain was a fighter at heart. He couldn’t bear to see me suffer. He’s a good man.” Tears wavered in Sibyl’s eyes for a brief second before they disappeared.
“Do you want me to ask him?”
Sibyl’s head snapped up and for a second, Nika thought she saw the doll’s eyes narrow. Another trick of her mind, no doubt.
“How would you do that?” asked Sibyl.
Nika looked down at the prone man, seeing the power he had once wielded in his thick limbs and barrel chest. Even unconscious, he had an air of strength about him that dwarfed Nika’s waking energy.
There were so many scary things out there, and they needed every warrior they could find to fight them. If there was a chance Nika could help, she had to try. “I’d just shed my body and go into his.”
“You can do that?”
Nika nodded. “I think so. Would you like me to try?”
“Is it safe?”
For Cain, yes. For Nika . . . there was no way to be sure. Every time she left her body there was a chance she wouldn’t make it back, but it was one she was willing to take. If her husk died, she’d seek out Madoc and become part of him. She’d never have to be away from him again, even if he didn’t know she was there.
“It’s safe,” said Nika.
Sibyl’s grip on the doll tightened and she gave a single nod.
“What would you like me to tell him?”
The little girl bit her lip as if she were going over a huge list, sorting out what was most important. “Tell him I need him.” She swallowed and met Nika’s gaze. Fear loomed in her bright eyes, making them shimmer with it. “Tell him I don’t want to be alone.”
In that moment, Nika realized that she had more in common with this child than she had with anyone else here, including her sister. It was a sad commentary on Nika’s twisted life, perhaps, but all the same, she was going to do whatever she could to ease Sibyl’s fears.
Nika lay down beside Cain, lining her body along his. She felt insubstantial next to him, like she could sink into the covers and no one would notice the loss.
Gritting her teeth, Nika threaded her fingers through Cain’s. Her stomach rebelled at the touch, but she swallowed until she was sure her food would stay where it belonged. If she was to get better, she had to learn to control herself. This was as good a place to start as any.
Nika closed her eyes and willed herself to slide through her arm and into Cain. It was frighteningly easy how readily her spirit left its shell, as if it ached for the chance to be rid of the weak sack of skin that imprisoned it.
She streaked through powerful muscle and solid bone until she could slide her spirit inside Cain’s mind.
He was trapped inside a nightmare. Nika forgot why she was here in the face of so much blood and pain. She saw Cain fall under the blows of three different kinds of demons. His huge body flew across a room as if he was a rag doll. Blood coated the walls, dripping like gallons of paint. There was no way he could have lived through that, but apparently, he had. Or maybe that wasn’t what had happened to him, but something his mind had made up to replay over and over inside his dreams.
The screams of a child echoed in his head, growing fainter with each passing second.
Sibyl!
The word resonated, shaking Nika’s spirit with its ferocity.
He imagined what was happening to her. He saw her being torn to shreds by oily black claws. He saw the bloody muzzles of sgath as they fed on her entrails. He saw their powerful jaws rip her limbs from her body as they trotted off to clean the meat from her bones like dogs.
None of that had happened to Sibyl, but Cain didn’t know it.
“She’s safe,” said Nika, hoping to calm the churning mass of images flashing through his head.
A powerful awareness sped toward her and she could hear his thoughts pounding against her fragile essence, threatening to shatter her. “Who are you?”
“Nika. Sibyl sent me.”
“Sibyl is dead.”
“No. She’s with you now. Holding your hand. Can’t you feel her?”
Images of Sibyl’s broken body and lifeless blue eyes welled up, pummeling Nika until they nearly drove her from his mind.
“Stop it!” she ordered him, throwing as much force of will as she could into the command.
The images stopped, and Cain’s mind quieted. A flicker of hope bloomed inside him, the color of spring leaves. The scent of rich, freshly tilled soil wafted around her, though she had no idea how she could see with no eyes or smell with no nose.
“She’s alive?” he asked.
“She asked me to give you a message. She needs you. She doesn’t want to be alone.”
“Alone.” The word shimmered with emotion. Guilt, most of all. “I’ve left her alone.”
“Go back to her,” said Nika. “Don’t leave her to suffer.”
The landscape changed, and suddenly Cain was standing before her. Nika hadn’t realized until then that she’d constructed a physical shape for her consciousness. She looked like herself, or at least like she thought she should look. Her hair was dark here, and her body was strong and lithe, not thin and wasted.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Nika.”
