Burning Alive

Helen could never be his.



He had one leaf left, only days until it fell and his soul shriveled, and for the first time in more than two centuries a female Theronai had walked into their lives. This was the thing they all prayed for. It was the only thing that kept the Theronai going despite the pain, despite the constant battles and bloodshed. That single, precious hope that one day they’d find a woman who could save them and help them fight. He’d found the woman, but there wasn’t a thing she could do to save him.



He wasn’t sure whether he should laugh or cry or just give up entirely—will his body to fly apart under the strain of holding too much energy and end his suffering.



Thomas closed his eyes and turned away from Drake, not wanting to share his failure with anyone. He refused to cry. Refused to wallow in self-pity. He’d known for a long time that he was nearing the end. This changed nothing. At least not for him.



Drake could claim her. At least Thomas could take some comfort in the fact that his friend would no longer suffer. Not a lot, but some.



Thomas cleared his throat. “We’re only a couple miles from the farmhouse where we’re supposed to meet the Gerai. We should get going.”



“Thomas.” Drake had reached for him, but Thomas saw it coming and stepped aside.



“Forget it. I’m fine.”



“How much time do you have left?” Drake’s chest was bare with only the shreds of his tattered shirt hanging from his shoulders. There were at least a dozen leaves left clinging to Drake’s tree.



Beneath his own shirt, Thomas could feel the minuscule weight of the last leaf clinging to his lifemark. He pressed his hand against it as if he could help it hold on just a little longer. He could live for years even after it was gone, but he’d be doing so without his soul. Good. Evil. Soon it would all be the same to him. Whatever got the job done.



Thomas was not going to let that happen. He would not become like the things he hunted. “Enough time to find Kevin’s sword. Let’s go.”



Drake hadn’t moved. He was still standing beside Thomas, watching him. “She might not be the only one. What if there are others like her out there? You have to hold on.”



“I will,” Thomas lied. “Stop worrying about me. Helen’s the one we need to worry about now.”



Drake nodded. “I need to get her cleaned up. Burn her clothes.” They were smeared with blood, both red and black. All of it was dangerous to leave behind. The scent would draw demons from miles away. Which was just one more reason to get moving.



“You shouldn’t be touching her, at least not until you know you can stop without hurting yourself. If the Synestryn come again, she’ll need you to be able to fight.”



“I’ll be able.”



“You sure as hell weren’t able to fight when you were on the diner floor, convulsing.”



“It’s better now.”



“Yeah, because you’re not touching her, moron.” Thomas hated the sound of anger in his voice. He loved Drake like a brother. It wasn’t Drake’s fault that Helen couldn’t save him.



“I’m sorry, Thomas.”



“Forget it.” Thomas looked at Helen lying so still in the back of the van. She was a miracle, just not his. The less time he spent thinking about that—looking at her—the better. “Let’s just get out of here.”



Drake managed to keep his hands off Helen for the rest of the drive, but by the time they got to the isolated farmhouse, his knuckles ached from keeping his fists so tight.



The Gerai had already arrived and were waiting for them outside. Two young men and a girl who couldn’t have been out of high school sat on the steps leading to the covered porch. They were all armed in the manner of humans—each carrying a pistol as well as a shotgun. The girl had her pale hair hidden beneath a baseball hat, and her watchful eyes peered out from beneath the brim. The two men who were with her looked to be in their early twenties, both stocky and sharing enough facial features to identify them as brothers.



Drake stepped out of the van, keeping his hand near his sword while he surveyed the area for signs of Synestryn.



“It’s safe,” said the girl. She stood and held out her hand in an incongruously masculine gesture. “I’m Carmen and these are my cousins Slade and Vance. We live one county over, so we thought we’d come help. Alexander contacted us.”



Alexander the Broody. A Sanguinar. Great. Just what this night needed. Another fucking bloodsucker.



Drake shook her hand, checking to make sure she wore the ring of the Gerai. It was a simple silver band etched with a single leaf. One ring was given to each of the blooded humans who vowed to aid the Sentinels. They were sworn to offer help whenever necessary, and it wasn’t uncommon for entire families to swear their loyalty. They were also bound to secrecy. More often than not, the Gerai were humans who had been saved from the Synestryn, at least at some point in their ancestry. The more Athanasian blood a human had running through his veins, the harder it was to wipe his memories. Sometimes recruiting him was easier than scrubbing his mind.



Camen’s ring gave off a subtle hum of power that any of the Sentinels could sense. It only worked for the one for which it had been created, so if someone stole a ring, it would be useless to help them pose as a Gerai. She was the genuine article, young as she was.



Maybe Drake was just getting old.



The two brothers stepped down and offered their hands as well. Both checked out.



“I’m Drake. Thomas is the big guy. Miss Mabel is in the front seat. We lost her walker, so we’ll need one of you boys to help her get inside. Carefully.”



“I’m on it,” said Slade, hopping down off the steps. He wasn’t very tall, but he had the solid build of a man who’d grown up with hard labor. Considering that this was farm country, that was likely the case.



Carmen felt under the porch railing until she found the hidden key that would let them in.



“Wait,” said Thomas. “Let me check it out first.”



Carmen tipped her head back until she could see him from under the hat. “I’m telling you the place is safe. I can always sense the Synestryn when they’re nearby. And they’re not.”



“I’m sure you can, little girl. I’m also sure that I’m not letting you lead the way into a dark house without so much as a pocketknife to protect yourself.”



She patted her shotgun. “I’ve got Hazel.”



Thomas peered down at her weapon and lifted a dark brow. “They did teach you that most demons out there can’t be killed without a sword or magic, right?”



“Sure. I also know that if Hazel knocks them down first, you’ll have a lot easier time chopping them to bits.”



Thomas grunted. “Just stay behind me and keep Hazel pointed in some direction other than my back.”



Carmen accepted the order like a good little soldier and handed Thomas the key.



“Vance,” said Drake. “Grab whatever gear is in the back and bring it in so we can inventory it.”



“Don’t you know what’s in your own van?” he asked.



Drake opened the back doors of Logan’s van. There were no windows back here and a heavy curtain could be pulled to block out the light from the front windows. The bastard was going to have fun finding shelter before the sun came up.



The thought made Drake smile. “Not my van. Bring in the sheet she’s lying on, too. There’s blood on it and we need to burn it.”



Helen hadn’t moved. And she was pale. Drake wanted to kill Logan, but just the thought gave him a violent headache.



“I’ll carry her,” offered Vance.



Drake should have agreed, but the sound of interest warming Vance’s voice changed his mind. He’d take the pain of releasing her again if he had to, but he wasn’t letting some human he didn’t know touch her.



“Like hell,” said Drake.



He lifted her into his arms and the second his skin touched hers, he was flooded with a sense of completion—all the empty spots filled up, easing an ache he didn’t even realize he had. He pulled her against his bare chest, closed his eyes, and let his power soak into her, let her sweep away the pressure that had already built itself back up to painful levels. Less than a half hour without touching her and he hurt. How in the world was he ever going to let her go?



He wasn’t. That was the simple truth. He was going to claim her. He’d never be able to wait long enough to take her back to the compound and figure out if any of the other Theronai were able to bond with her. He was going to claim her for his own and to hell with the consequences. He wasn’t going to put Helen on display and let all the other Theronai touch her. He’d found her and he was keeping her for himself. That part was easy. The hard part was going to be convincing her she wanted to be kept.



Chapter 7



“Time to wake up, sleepyhead.”



Helen felt Drake’s voice in her head as much as she heard it in her ears. It was an odd sensation, a sort of resonating echo that vibrated her brain. She could feel his touch inside her as well as outside, gentle fingertips stroking her face and arms, gentle thoughts stroking her mind.



“Come on. We’ve got to get you cleaned up. Out of these clothes.”



She felt a tug at her waistband and the pop of the button being released. He was taking off her shorts.



That got her synapses firing. She jerked awake, her arms failing out to bat his hands away. She forced her heavy lids open and found herself in a bathroom, sitting in his lap. His hard thighs were warm under her bottom and one thick arm was wrapped around her, just under her breasts, keeping her from sliding onto the floor.



The bathroom was big, old, a little shabby, but clean. A giant claw-foot tub was filled with water and she could hear the faint pop of thousands of bubbles along the water’s surface. The air was steamy and smelled like lavender.



Helen stared at the water in longing. She was safe in the water, and as the memories of the night flooded back to her, what she truly wanted was to feel safe. To know Miss Mabel and Lexi were safe. That Drake was safe, not horribly burned and dying.



But if he was dying, then how was he holding her in his lap? Confused, Helen looked up at Drake. He was whole—not a burn or scar in sight. Even his hair had grown back.



Was she dreaming this? Or had the attack been the dream? Her head was still clouded from sleep and she couldn’t seem to make sense of what was going on.



“Shhh.” He slid a hand over her hair as if to calm her. “Don’t try to sort things out yet. You were really out of it, thanks to Logan. Give yourself a chance to wake up first.”



“You were burned.”



“Yes, but I’m okay now. It wasn’t as bad as it looked.”



“Liar.” It had probably been a hell of a lot worse than it looked. At least for him. Helen had done a fair amount of research on burns, thanks to her vision, and she knew that they were one of the most painful injuries possible.



“We’ll talk later. Right now we need to get this blood cleaned off.”



Helen looked down at herself and cringed. She was filthy. There were smears of blood on her clothes and skin and what looked like oil. What looked like, but wasn’t. It was blood from those monsters.