Burning Alive

Drake looked at her ring again. It was bright and shiny without a hint of scratches or tarnish. She might be Gerai, but she hadn’t been for long.



He made his voice gentle. “There’s nothing to forgive, Grace. We’re all a little shocked by Helen’s arrival.”



Grace nodded, but didn’t look up. Instead, she scurried away in the manner of someone looking for a place to hide.



“Is she okay?” asked Helen.



“I suppose. A little timid, maybe, but she’s new here. She’ll get used to us after she’s been here awhile.” He kicked the door shut with his foot and set the tray of food on the kitchen table.



“Did you see the bruises?”



Drake felt a cold stillness settle over his body—the kind he got right before he killed. “No. I didn’t.”



“Her arms and the back of her thighs were covered with them. They had mostly faded, so they weren’t new.”



“Shit. No wonder she flinched. Go ahead and start eating. I’ve got to make a phone call.”



Helen nodded and Drake went into his bedroom and shut the door. He did not want her to hear the conversation he was going to have with Joseph about whether the person who had done that to Grace had been punished or if Drake was going to have that pleasure himself.



Helen could feel nothing coming from Drake in his bedroom. He’d clamped down hard on their link and nothing was getting through. Not that she needed much help figuring out how angry he’d been when she told him about Grace’s bruises. It was clear on his face. She was pretty sure he was going to need a good dentist after grinding his teeth together like that.



She was halfway through her meal when he came out of the bedroom. He looked more relaxed, but there was still that slow-simmering anger about him that made her pity whoever he decided to aim it at.



He sat down and dug into his food with mechanical efficiency.



“Everything okay?” she asked.



“Fine.”



“Do you want to talk about it?”



He eyed her plate. “It’s not good dinner conversation. Maybe another time.”



Helen didn’t push him. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know who—or what—had made those bruises, anyway. She was a pretty good guesser and none of her guesses were pleasant ones. “She makes a mean steak,” offered Helen, hoping to lighten his mood.



Drake paused in the middle of chewing a bite, as if he had to stop and think about tasting the food rather than just consuming it. “Yeah. It is good.”



“So is the rest of it.” Helen didn’t know what Drake liked, so she put a little bit of everything on a plate for both him and herself. “And there’s chocolate cake.”



Drake nodded, but his gaze was far off. Distracted.



Helen finished eating and sat back in her chair, sipping her soda. “I’m ready when you are.”



“I know.” He wiped his mouth on a napkin and stood. The burned patch on the back of his hand had nearly healed, and it had only been a few hours. She was about to question him about it when he said, “I’ve stalled long enough. Come on.” He held out his wide, callused hand and Helen couldn’t stop herself from taking it. She didn’t even try.



Drake led her to the plush couch and sat beside her. He angled his body toward hers and didn’t let go of her hand. “I need to know you will try to understand why I didn’t tell you all of this earlier.”



Helen frowned at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”



“I mean, I should have told you everything before I bound you to me. But I didn’t. I was too desperate. In too much pain. I needed you at any cost and now is the time I start paying up.”



“You think I’m going to be mad?”



“I know you’re going to be mad. I can handle that. I don’t want you to feel hurt. Used.”



All she felt right now was dread. She really wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know what was going on. “Why don’t you just tell me everything and I’ll decide how to feel about it?”



Drake sighed heavily and it made his knit shirt stretch tight over muscles Helen could never forget. Now she was the one feeling distracted.



“You know that you have to stay with me until we find Kevin’s sword, right?”



“Yes.”



He’d been looking into her eyes, but now his slid guiltily to the carpet. “Do you also realize that if we never find it, you’ll never be free of me?”



“Until I die,” she reminded him. Maybe that would be a bigger deal for other women, but Helen knew her days were numbered. As long as she did something good with them, she was content.



“Which you think will be soon. No wonder you weren’t more freaked out by that part.” His hand slid over her hair in a comforting caress. “Don’t worry. I’ve requested that Sibyl see you. If anyone can figure out what your vision really means, it will be her.”



She had no idea who Sibyl was, but it didn’t really matter. If it would make him feel better to see the woman, she would. “Drake, I don’t want to die, but I’ve learned that it’s better not to get your hopes up about this kind of thing. Acceptance is easier.”



“I won’t accept that you are going to die. I just found you. Why would I find you now only to lose you? It doesn’t make any sense.”



“The fact that I have this vision at all doesn’t make any sense. It’s not exactly normal. My mother tried to convince me it was a gift—a way for me to remember that every day is precious. When I was young, I used to think she was nuts, but now I realize that she was right. Every day is a gift.”



His eyes blazed gold with determination. “I will not lose you.”



She wasn’t going to get anywhere with him at this rate. “Just tell me the rest, Drake. Tell me why Paul was so freaked out.”



It took him a few seconds to relax his body and loosen the death grip he had on her hand. As if realizing that he’d been holding her too tight, he massaged her hand in apology. “We’re at war against the Synestryn. We have been for millennia. We’re losing ground every day and if something doesn’t change, we’re going to fail.”



That didn’t sound good. “What happens if you fail?”



“The Synestryn will turn the earth into a collection of giant cattle pens and use humans for food while they begin battling their way into another world called Athanasia.”



“Athanasia? You need to slow down. The Synestryn want to eat us?”



“Yes. Mostly, they just want the blooded humans—those who are descendants of Athanasians—to fuel their magic, but normal humans are as good a source of food as any.”



That was too gross to dwell on. “What does that mean? Blooded?”



Drake scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration. “You should have been learning all this from the time you were a baby. There’s too much to cover.”



“Just give me the highlights.”



“Basically, the Sentinels—of which there are several races, including us Theronai—were created to protect another world called Athanasia. Earth is the only place with a gateway into that world, and the Synestryn want to get there. They are willing to do anything to get there.”



“Why?”



“Because the beings who live there are ancient and powerful. Their blood is like liquid magic. If the Synestryn can get there, they will become unstoppable.”



“Which would be bad.”



“Extremely.”



“So where does the blooded thing come in?”



“Thousands of years ago, some of the Athanasians intermingled with humans and had children. Those children had children and so on, and now the traces of ancient blood in them are minute, but they are there. That’s what we mean when we say blooded. Only those humans who descend from one of the Athanasians are blooded.”



“Why do the Synestryn want that blood?”



“That ancient blood is the source of their magic. The Synestryn need it to survive.”



It all sounded a little too far-fetched to be true, but then again, most of what she’d seen in the past day supported something a little far-fetched. “Okay, so the Synestryn want the blooded humans because it’s the only available source of magic for them. I get that. How do I play into this? Do you think I’m one of those blooded humans?”



“I know you are. In fact, the only way you could have enough ancient blood in you to bond with me is by some freak accident of genetics, or if, like me, both your parents were Theronai, which is doubtful. Even more doubtful is that you might be a direct descendant of one of the ancients.”



Helen’s world tilted askew and her skin grew cold as the puzzle pieces clicked together in her head. Her father had been a one-night stand. Helen’s mother had never seen him again. “My father might have been some kind of alien?”



“No. Not alien. Athanasian.”



“What’s the difference?”



Drake looked stumped. He opened his mouth and closed it again, but nothing came out for a long moment. “Your father couldn’t have been either. The Solarc got pissed off at the Sentinels, so as punishment, he shut the gate between here and there and so no one can get through, and banned all his people from leaving their world to aid us. Basically, we’ve been grounded.”



“What’s a Solarc?”



Drake waved a hand and shook his head. “The king of Athanasia. He’s a megalomaniacal tyrant who controls his people with an iron fist. He refuses to aid our war against the Synestryn because he felt insulted by something my ancestors did. He’s convinced the gate is sealed well enough to hold off a Synestryn attack.”



“Is it?”



Drake shrugged. “Maybe. Pray we never have to find out.”



Not exactly a comforting thought. “So you don’t know how I got so much ancient blood in me, but I have it, and that’s why you and I can have this . . . connection?”



He looked relieved that she understood. “That’s right.”



“I still don’t see why Paul was so upset at you. It’s not your fault that I’m some freak of genetics.”



“That’s not what Paul was talking about.”



“Okay, so what was he talking about? Why was he so angry at you?” she asked.



“When you took the luceria around your neck it . . . changed you.”



A chilly rush of fear made the food in her stomach ice over into a lump. “Changed me how?”



“It woke up the part of you that makes you Theronai.”



That didn’t sound horrible, but his expression told her that maybe it should. “What does that mean? Exactly?”



“You’ve lived a fairly normal life, right? Unless you count the visions? No monsters hunting you down for your blood?”



“Right.”



“That was because the ancient blood in you was masked. Hidden as a means of protection. That’s why the Synestryn didn’t hunt you down every time you skinned your knee or whenever you got your period.”



For some stupid reason, his frank discussion about something so personal made her blush. “How is it hidden?”