Burning Alive

She gathered the monster locator and a tire iron out of the back of the van—just in case—and hid in the trees near the cave. The sun was going to set any minute, and she didn’t want to be in the way of all those Synestryn coming out to hunt.



Plus, there might be bats in there, which was too icky to think about. Thank goodness her hair was braided so they couldn’t get tangled in it. She still wasn’t convinced that was a myth and she wasn’t taking any chances.



She turned on the night vision and her super hearing and watched as a swarm of monsters flowed out of the cave, snarling and clicking and howling.



Helen was sure her heartbeat would give her away and she prayed that all the noise the monsters were making would cover the frightened pounding. She held her breath and imagined pushing the air so that her scent was carried away from the monsters.



A light breeze cooled the sweat on her skin.



A pair of glowing green eyes swung her way and the sgath sniffed the air as if sensing her. It cocked its furry wolf head to the side in confusion and after a moment, bounded off to follow the rest of its pack.



Helen was shaking so hard her muscles ached and she had to make a conscious effort to relax her clenched jaw.



The last monster had been gone for several minutes before she found the courage to move into the mouth of the cave. The entrance was small and she had to crouch low to get in. Her enhanced vision made it seem bright as day inside, but she could feel the oppressive darkness clinging to her skin, eating at her resolve.



Unlike the mine, there were no tunnels leading in different directions. The cave opened up into a long, narrow hole that widened into a larger chamber. It was easily a hundred feet across and twenty feet at the widest point. Dampness and a mineral smell scented the air beneath the heavy, rotting animal smell of the Synestryn. In the distance, she could hear the steady drip of water and the gurgling, wet sound of a kajmela.



Two of them, in fact. And they were headed right toward her.



Her invisibility had worked well enough on things with eyes, but the kajmelas had none. They somehow sensed her presence.



She dropped the invisibility to conserve power, then turned up her vision to X-ray level, and sure enough, inside the bigger kajmela was Kevin’s sword along with some other things that looked suspiciously like human bones that she didn’t want to think about. The hilt looked corroded and pitted, but the blade was pristine and wickedly sharp. Whatever stomach acid the kajmelas had, it couldn’t harm the Theronai’s blade.



Fire.



The word flared in her head, though whether it was her idea or Drake’s, she couldn’t tell. Either way, it left her terrified, sweating and shaking.



She felt Drake getting closer, felt his anger and sense of betrayal that she’d left him. She’d done it for him, and all her noble intentions would be wasted if she didn’t get that sword back and release him from her before he got here.



Helen heard Sibyl’s voice ring clearly in her mind. If you try to fight the Synestryn beside Drake without the ability to call fire, then Drake will die.



She couldn’t let that happen.



The kajmelas moved forward, slowly oozing over the cave floor. Fire was the only thing that could stop them.



Helen tried to push aside her fear of fire, but it had been her companion for so long, she couldn’t remember ever living without it. It was a part of her. Irrational. Uncontrollable.



It was going to kill Drake.



She raised her hand toward the kajmela and pretended she wasn’t afraid. She closed her eyes and gathered Drake’s power inside herself. She remembered what she’d seen Gilda do and forced herself to mimic that frightening act of calling fire. Heat built in her chest, making it hard to breathe. She had to get rid of the heat before it killed her, so she tried to shove it out through her fingertips. She heard a sizzling sound and opened her eyes to see her fingertips blacken. The burning pain hit her then and a sob tore from her body.



She pushed harder, trying to drive the searing heat from her, but no fire came out. Not even a spark.



She heard deep male voices echoing nearby. He was here. And he was going to die if she didn’t do something to stop it.



She pulled hard on Drake’s power and let it fill her even more. Pressure built inside her, and the band around her throat heated under the strain of funneling so much energy. Her insides felt as if they were boiling and the skin under the luceria started to sizzle. The scent of burning flesh filled her nose, making her gag.



“Helen!” shouted Drake.



The kajmelas hesitated as they sensed new prey.



More energy filled her, stretching her, crushing her organs until the pain threatened to make her pass out. She had all the power she needed to fry those kajmelas into a greasy puddle, but she couldn’t find the courage to let it out in the form of fire. Her instincts screamed at her that this was it—the moment of her vision.



Drake came into view, followed closely by other men, but she couldn’t see them clearly. Her eyes burned and felt as if they would fly out of her head from the massive pressure inside her, but she forced herself to look at Drake.



His sword was drawn, gleaming with the need for violence. His face was a mask of pain and rage and his eyes glowed with golden fury as they met hers. His body was coiled to strike, strong and solid and designed to bring her so much pleasure. Just looking at him was a joy to her.



She loved him.



There was no denying it any longer—no putting off thinking about it until things calmed down. She was out of time. She could feel the power of her love for him beating at her to act. Sibyl had said to let her love for Drake guide her, and she would. Her last act on this earth would be one of courage and sacrifice and love for Drake.



The kajmelas turned toward bigger prey and oozed out tentacles of oily sludge toward Drake.



Helen accepted her fate. She embraced it. She was going to burn to death, but she was going to take those nasty fuckers with her so they couldn’t hurt anyone else.



She lifted her hand toward the monsters, ignored the clamoring fear slicing her belly, and let the fire come for her. At first, there was a pitiful sputtering of sparks from her hand and she couldn’t contain a frightened yelp.



The kajmela closest to Drake struck out with more speed than she’d thought possible and her fear for him overcame her fear of fire. Power funneled down her arm, making her bones vibrate with the force of it. She let out a harsh battle cry and flames shot from her fingers, engulfing both kajmelas in a cylinder of orange and red. A sharp hissing scream and the rank smell of burning oil and flesh filled the cave.



The kajmelas amoebic bodies pulsed and contorted as they tried to escape the fire.



Helen gave them nowhere to run. She siphoned more of Drake’s power away from him, turned it into flames, and blasted the kajmelas again.



Heat scalded her fingers and neck as she forced more fire from her body. Too much. She was losing control of it now and it spread beyond her fingers. Flames danced along her arm, racing up until they engulfed her body. A ragged cry of pain was wrenched from her chest and she gritted her teeth to cut off the horrible sound. Through the flickering, wavering heat, she saw Drake struggle against his friends’ grip as they held him back. He was shouting something, but she couldn’t understand the words—couldn’t hear over the hungry roar of the fire consuming her.



Seconds slid by in agonizing slowness. She’d lost control over the power. She couldn’t stop it from streaming into her, nor could she stop herself from making all that power burn.



The sound of her screams faded into a hoarse echo of pain she couldn’t silence herself. Nothing inside her worked.



The flow of energy from Drake was suddenly turned off, but the fire still burned. She tried to remember what to do to stop it, but her brain couldn’t function inside so much pain.



And then Drake was there, right in front of her with Kevin’s sword in hand, his chest bare and his shirt wrapped around the smoking hilt. She could see Drake’s features through the flames, see the tears running down his cheeks. And he was smiling—giving her that proud smile she had seen too many times in her life to count—the one that signified her death.



Drake was safe. He had Kevin’s sword. It was over.



Helen let the pain win. She gave up fighting it and let the flames have her.



Chapter 23



Drake caught Helen’s body as she collapsed. The dying flames licking over her body burned him, but he didn’t care. He needed to hold her.



“She’s going to be okay, right?” he asked Logan. Her skin was blistered in places, but he’d seen worse. Hell, he’d felt worse. And Helen had saved him with her blood.



“Let me see,” said Logan. He ran his elegant hands over her body, checking for damage. Drake couldn’t even bring himself to care that another man was touching her. He was too glad she’d survived.



“The burns are superficial, but she shouldn’t have had any at all,” said Logan. “What went wrong? Why didn’t her instincts keep the fire from burning her?”



Drake smoothed singed hair back from her face. He loved her so much it made his chest ache. He nearly lost her. “She was afraid. Maybe that shorted out her self-preservation instincts.”



“I didn’t think she’d ever be able to call fire.” Logan settled his hands over Helen’s forehead for a long moment and then his eyes widened in shock. He swallowed hard, looking a little sick.



“What?” demanded Drake.



Logan’s too-pretty face went pale and his hands shook. “She’s, uh . . .” He trailed off, staring at Helen in shock.



Drake grabbed Logan’s collar and gave him a rough shake. Punishing pain shot up his arm, but he ignored it. “She’s what?”



“She’s changed.”



Drake felt a nauseating sense of dread fill him. Sanguinar were not easily spooked. “Changed how?”



“That vision she had . . . it was protecting her.”



“From what?”



“From becoming what she was meant to be too soon—before she was ready.”



“And what was she meant to be?” demanded Drake, shaking Logan again to get him to focus. And again, he ignored the zing of pain that shake cost him.



Logan shook his head. “A weapon against the Synestryn.”



“All the Theronai are,” said Drake, wishing Logan would make some sense.



“Not like her.”



There wasn’t time to dwell on that right now. “Just heal her. Take whatever blood you need and make her better.”



Logan gave an uneasy nod and went to work.



Helen woke up. That alone was enough to stun her silent.



She was in Drake’s bed and he was wrapped around her, holding her like he was never going to let her go. That was really nice.



Sunlight streamed in through the windows, so she’d lost at least a few hours, but she still couldn’t believe she was alive. A quiet sense of joy warmed her and she felt something she hadn’t had for a long, long time: hope for the future.



A future with Drake, if she was lucky.



“You’re awake,” he said in a low voice.



“Yeah.” It came out as little more than a rough croak of sound.



Drake shifted and lifted her up so she could drink from a cup he offered. She felt weak, but nothing hurt, which was an unexpected surprise. A quick scan of her arms showed nothing but new, pink skin.