Her eyes shifted to his throat and the iridescent band that encircled it. Shimmering color wavered over it, like rainbows over a soap bubble. She stared, fascinated by the swimming ribbons of color. Part of her wanted to touch it, but the saner part of her warned her of danger. Drake hadn’t told her everything. She was sure of it.

“Go ahead, Helen,” he urged in a low, seductive tone. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’d never let anything hurt you.”

He sounded like he meant it. She knew better, but that sincerity ringing in his voice was her undoing. She reached a single finger toward the band and let the pad of her finger graze the surface.

Drake let out a low moan of pleasure and his eyes darkened, became unfocused. “That’s right. Now, imagine it opening, see yourself wearing it.”

Helen did, and the sinuous weight of it slid from around his neck. She caught it before it could fall. The heat of his body radiated from the band, soaking into her palm.

Helen suppressed a shiver of pleasure.

The colors had frozen in place as if they needed Drake’s touch to fuel them. He held out his left hand, showing her the matching ring he wore. The colors in it were also still.

“See,” he told her. “Whatever happens to one part of the luceria, happens to both. It’s a connection between us, binding us together.”

He turned his hand over, silently asking her to give him the necklace. Helen let it fall into his hand, being careful not to touch him. He found the loose ends and gave her a look so full of reverent hope that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

“Lift your hair for me.”

Helen’s hands shook, but she did as he asked. His arms reached around her and he leaned down so that his eyes were level with hers. They glowed with a brilliant, hopeful light. “As long as you wear this you’ll never be lost. You’ll never be powerless. You’ll never be alone.”

She heard the ends of the luceria lock together with a muted click, and her body was frozen in place. She could hear and see, but she couldn’t move.

Drake made a sword appear out of thin air and knelt in front of her. He tugged his shirt up, sliced a shallow cut over his heart, and said, “My life for yours.” Then he rose to his feet, pressed his finger into the blood that welled from the cut, and touched it to the luceria.

She had no idea what he was doing and she was pretty sure that she didn’t want to be any part of more bleeding—hers or his. She tried to tell him that, but nothing came out. Her mouth wouldn’t move to form the words.

Helen felt the band shrink until it fit close to her skin. It grew warm and vibrated. That warmth trickled into her, growing until she could feel a cascade of heat fill her up. All the dark, empty places inside her—her fear, her loneliness, her worry—all vanished until there was nothing left but a glowing flush of energy suffusing her. Every cell in her body vibrated in time with the luceria. It hummed happily around her neck, pulsing with a living energy she could sense was much larger than anything she’d ever known existed.

Colors filled her vision, a swirling mass of reds and oranges with bursts of yellow sparkling in between. She was blinded by the beauty. She could feel herself falling, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t worried. There was no place for worry inside her now.

She felt Drake’s hands grip her upper arms and hold her steady. Streamers of power shot into her where each of his long fingers touched her skin. She heard herself gasp at the new sensation, felt the sudden breath fill her starved lungs. Only then did she realize she’d forgotten to breathe.

Drake said something, but the words sounded muted and far off. The roar of power in her ears sounded like a waterfall and blocked out all else. She felt him give her a little shake and some of his desperation filtered into her through the luceria. She had no idea how it happened, but she knew that she was feeling what he felt. She just couldn’t figure out why he was worried.

The swirling colors in her vision cleared, but she didn’t see the outdated kitchen she stood in. Instead, she saw a grassy field surrounded by high hills. Everything was green but the sky. It was a brilliant blue that was so intense it stung her eyes. A group of boys played on the grass, wooden swords in their hands clashing against each other while an older man stood by offering instructions.

One of the boys was Drake, as a child. He laughed as he fought, excitement glittering in his golden brown eyes. He lunged with his wooden practice weapon, missed his target, and took a heavy blow to the ribs for his mistake.

Helen felt his ribs crack, felt the searing pain shoot through his body. Before she had time to pull in a pained breath, the sensation was gone. Her vision shifted to another time and place.

Mountains shot up toward a cold winter sky lit only by the glowing moon. Drake and three other men stood in a narrow gap between giant slabs of stone. From that gap poured dozens of monsters. They were huge, ten-foot-long insectoids with shining black bodies and giant, snapping claws. The men sliced at the monsters, but their swords skittered off the hard exoskeletons, leaving only scratches behind.

One of the men whose fiery red hair shone bright under the moon shouted something in a language Helen couldn’t understand. Drake shouted back an acknowledgment and burst into a frenetic flurry of movements. His sword gleamed in the moonlight until it was nearly a blur of motion. He let out a rough, primal roar and drove one of the monsters toward the man who had shouted. The redheaded man crouched low, found an opening, and shoved his sword into a space between the jointed segments of the monster’s body.

Black blood frothed from the creature and it crumpled to the ground dead. A victorious smile curved Drake’s face and he jumped on top of the dead body to face the next monster. His partner was there beside him, ready to try their ploy again. He pointed his sword toward one of the things. Drake gave a nod. The redheaded man suddenly stiffened and looked down to where the tip of a black claw was sticking out of his chest. From the deep shadows of the craggy mountainside came one of the monsters that no one had seen. It had stabbed one of its six legs completely through Drake’s partner.

Drake let out an enraged bellow and jumped down to face the thing that had his friend. But it was too late. The redhead slumped, his body going limp in death.

Furious grief slammed into Helen as she shared Drake’s emotions. That man had been his friend for years. They’d waged countless battles together and now he was gone. The first of Drake’s friends to die.

But not the last.

The grief she felt coming from him was connected to countless other moments from Drake’s life. Countless faces. With each beat of her heart a new face appeared from his memory. She saw face after face—all the loved ones Drake had lost to the Synestryn. The pulsing vision seemed to go on forever. Men, women, children. No one was spared. Some of them had died in battle, but most of them had simply been killed while they slept. They’d done nothing to deserve their deaths. They existed and that was enough of a reason for the Synestryn to destroy them.

A sob tore at Helen’s chest, forcing the breath from her lungs. So much death. So much suffering. She had no idea how he could stand living under the weight of it and she was frantic to find her way back to him in the here and now so that she could hold him. Comfort him.

No one should have to suffer that kind of pain alone.

Helen fought against the grip the vision had on her. She squeezed her eyes shut, but nothing could block out the parade of the dead flashing in her mind. She willed it to stop, begging whatever power controlled this vision to have mercy.

Finally, the images began to slow until the last one appeared and held fast in her mind. Kevin. The man whose sword Drake sought. He was handsome in an almost boyish way with messy blond hair and deep green eyes. He looked like he was about twenty, but she sensed he was much older than that. Like Drake.

She’d never known him, but she could feel the deep, grinding ache of loss Drake felt over his death, the sense of guilt that Drake hadn’t been able to save him—that he hadn’t taken Kevin’s place.

Just the thought that Drake wished it had been him who had died was enough to give Helen the strength to find her way back to him. She reached for the power that filled her and followed it back to the source. Drake.

It took her a moment to clear her mind of what she’d seen, to force herself to focus on the garish green tile and outdated wallpaper of the farmhouse kitchen. She was breathing hard. Sweating. Shaking.

“How can you stand it?” she asked him. Her voice was hoarse, making her wonder if she’d been screaming.

“Stand what, sweetheart? What did you see?” Drake’s face was tight with worry and he smoothed his wide hand over her hair as if trying to convince himself she was okay.

Helen swallowed around the ache in her throat. “You’ve lost so many people.”

His jaw bunched and she felt his fingers tighten around her hair. “But I’m not going to lose you.”

Helen blinked, trying to make her fuzzy brain understand what he was saying. It didn’t make any sense. She’d already promised she’d go with him and help him find the sword. “What?”

“The luceria gives us glimpses into each other so that we can start to learn to work together. It helps us understand each other, and now I understand something about you.”

Helen had no idea what part of her life the luceria had chosen to show him, but whatever it was, it pissed him off. She could see it in the angry set of his mouth and the rigid way he held his body. Even though his touches were gentle, he was feeling anything but. “What do you understand?”

“You think I’m going to watch you die.”

Chapter 10

Thomas stared up at the night sky, struggling with the jealousy that plagued him and left a bitter taste at the back of his throat. He’d never been a jealous man before. Didn’t want to be now. He wanted to be happy for Drake. He’d found a woman who could save his life. End his suffering. That was something worth celebrating.

But instead of feeling like celebrating, Thomas felt like lashing out at Drake. He wanted to beat his friend into the ground and take Helen for himself. It didn’t even matter that she couldn’t help him. Part of him wanted to make her try—wanted to force her to be something she wasn’t. His salvation.

Thomas’s chest ached with the weight of his jealousy and he rubbed a wide hand against it in an effort to ease the pain. It did no good, of course. Nothing could help him now. Even if there were other women out there like Helen, Thomas didn’t have enough time left to find one. His time was up as of five minutes ago when he felt the last leaf fall from his lifemark and his soul began to die. He could feel it shriveling, leaving a bleak, empty numbness behind. All he had left to look forward to now was losing himself in the gray swamp of soulless amorality.

He heard the slight rustle of grass behind him and turned to see Carmen striding toward him with purposeful steps. She’d taken off her baseball hat and her pale hair shone bright under the moonlight.

Enough of himself remained for him to worry about her being easily seen, even in the dark. His hand strayed to his sword, making sure it was ready if any of the Synestryn found them out here alone. He would make sure she was protected.