Dying Wish

His face contorted with frustration and he glared at her. “You tricked me.”



“You should have done a better job with the fine print.”



“You can never have a normal life,” he told her.



She flinched, feeling the blow of his words all the way to her toes. “I can, and I will.”



“He’s right,” said Helen. “Please, just think this through.”



She had to get out of here. This place was killing her with all the expectations and pressure. “I’ve spent weeks thinking about it. All I want is for my life to go back to something resembling the way it used to be. I want a job, a career, a home.” A family. Baby Samson had given her a taste of something she’d never thought she’d want, but now she did. But there was no way she was going to raise a child in this place. Her child would have a normal life.



“It’s not safe,” said Helen, her tone gentle.



Jackie looked at Joseph. “You promised. Tell them.”



His lip lifted in a sneer of frustration and anger. “She’s right. I promised her she could leave if she chose a man. She’s done her part, and despite the fact that it’s stupid, reckless, and insane, we have to let her go.”



“I don’t,” said Iain, his gaze fixed firmly on her. “I made no promise.”



“You wouldn’t,” said Jackie.



“Do I look like a man who jokes around? If you go, I go, too. Like it or not, you picked me. Now you’re stuck with me.”



“I won’t ever put on your necklace.”



He shrugged. “Fine. Don’t. I’m still not letting you die out there. I gave you my vow, and I intend to uphold it.”



Kind and gentle were not words she’d use to describe Iain. She’d picked him because he was cold—because he seemed to have no expectations of her—but now she was beginning to see the error in her decision. That coldness wasn’t going to gain her any favors or understanding. The best she could hope for now was that eventually he’d figure out she wasn’t worth the effort, and go find some other woman.



“Fine,” she snapped. She went to where her suitcase was standing and raised the handle to wheel it out. “But I’m already packed and ready to go, and I’m not waiting.”



Iain took the handle from her grasp. His fingers grazed hers, and the result of his touch was immediate. A string of bubbles slid through her veins and burst into pinpoints of warmth. It felt shockingly good, startling her with the force of it. She had to fight the urge to simply close her eyes and enjoy the sensation, letting it fill her up. It made her forget all about the chill of the caves and the things she’d endured. Her entire focus was on the small patch of her skin that made contact with his.



It wasn’t right. It wasn’t even real. She had to remember that and not let whatever magic he possessed sway her from her path.



Jackie jerked her hand away, already regretting the loss of contact.



His body clenched tight, like he’d just taken a punch, but he continued to stare at her without blinking.



Jackie rubbed her skin in an effort to rid herself of his touch. She didn’t want to feel anything magical, no matter how good it may have been. All she wanted was for everyone to keep their hands to themselves.



Joseph opened his mouth, but Helen grabbed his arm, stopping him before he could speak. She leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Joseph nodded, then stared at Jackie in speculation.



“We’ll see you when you get back,” said Joseph.



“What was that about?” she asked, looking at her half sister.



“Nothing,” said Helen. “You two go do what you need to do. You’ll always have a place here if and when you want it.”



Jackie wasn’t sure what they were up to, but she doubted she’d like it if she knew. “I don’t plan on coming back.”



“I know,” said Helen. “But I hope you change your mind. I’ll miss you while you’re gone.”



Jackie couldn’t bear any emotional farewells. Helen was her sister by blood, but that was all. They didn’t know each other. They had no connection, no shared history. All they had was a similar affliction—a magical disease that drew these men to them—one Jackie hoped she could either find a cure for or come to live with eventually.



“Where will you go?” asked Joseph.



“South,” she lied. “Florida, maybe.”



Beside her, Iain grunted his disbelief. “Daylight’s burning. If you’re serious about leaving, we need to put some miles behind us before dark.”



Jackie looked at Helen, seeing her hazel eyes fill up with tears. “I’m sorry I can’t be what you want—what any of you want.”



“I don’t want you to be anything but happy,” said Helen.



Jackie wasn’t setting her sights nearly that high. She’d be satisfied with simply being free.



Tori pulled the hood up over her head, shoved stolen sunglasses on her face, and walked through the halls of Dabyr as if she belonged there. She kept her head down, looking at no one while she made her escape.



She heard voices of children as she passed through the large open dining and recreation area. The smell of coffee—something that reminded her of her dead mother—filled her nose, giving her a pang of grief. Mama had been gone a long time now. The demons had killed and eaten her when Tori was eight—the night she’d been stolen by monsters and her old life had ended.



Light seeping in under the glasses burned her eyes. Or maybe it was tears. She couldn’t tell. It was too bright there for her. All those years underground had made her eyes sensitive. Sadly, these people were so blind they needed to light this place up like the surface of the sun just to see their own feet.



It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be there long. She only had to tolerate the light for as long as it took to get to her sister Andra’s car. The sun was setting. It would be dark soon, and the searing behind her eyes would ease.



Zillah—the Synestryn lord who’d caged and tortured her for years—was asleep now, hiding like a coward, but she could still feel him coursing through her veins, laughing at her with every beat of her heart. He was weak now. Nearby. She could find him and capture him before anyone even realized she was gone.



The bag on her shoulder was heavy, slowing her progress toward the garage. Over the last few weeks, she’d collected everything she’d need, gathering up knives, rope, matches, and other tools she could use to turn Zillah’s life into the living hell he’d made of hers. She’d spent a lot of time thinking about just how she was going to torture him before she let him die. Finding him, making him pay, was all that mattered.



Pain was not enough. She had to cause him fear, too. Oceans of it—as much as he had caused her and the others during her childhood. Since her rescue, she’d spent nearly every waking moment thinking up different ways to make him scream. She didn’t just want him to hurt—she wanted him destroyed, broken, and begging for his life. Then and only then, after his last scream’s echo had died out, would she be able to rest. Finally. He’d leave her dreams and never return. She’d truly be free of him.



Capturing Zillah was going to be hard, but she knew he and his guards were weaker during the day—trapped underground, away from the sun. She could sneak into his caves unnoticed. After all the years of him forcing her to take his blood, shoving it into her veins, making her drink it, she even smelled like one of them. Tynan had said so to Logan when they’d thought she was sleeping.



At first she’d tried to scrub herself clean, but no matter how many times she washed, no matter how many cleaners she used on her skin, the stench was still there, seeping out of her pores.



Now she realized it for the gift it was. Who else could sneak into a Synestryn cave without being detected?



Zillah probably hadn’t realized what he’d done, and now it was going to come back to haunt him.



A slow smile of excitement pulled at her mouth as she hurried her pace. Tynan would come to see her as soon as he woke up, and she had to be long gone before then.



No matter how hard he’d tried, no matter how many times he’d come to her with soft words and kind eyes, all his efforts to clean her blood had failed. She’d left him weak and shaking, his mouth blistered from her blood.



She was one of them—one of the monsters. A Synestryn. Their blood was inside of her, burning her veins and calling her back to them.



Part of her wanted to answer that call.



Tori turned the last corner and nearly ran into one of the Theronai. Fear lurched into her chest, and she started to turn and run, her instincts screaming at her to flee. Before she took even one step, he moved to block her path.



“Whoa,” he said. “Slow down there.”



Words lodged in her throat. Her heart was pounding fast, and she heard herself panting. By now she should have been better at hiding her fear, but he’d surprised her, and she couldn’t seem to keep control of herself since coming there. These people were all too nice. She wasn’t used to it, and it left her confused and suspicious. At any moment, she knew they’d turn on her, and she was sick of waiting for it to happen.



She looked up and saw scars crisscrossing the man’s face. He was trying to smile at her, but it pulled his skin, twisting his mouth. He had bright blue eyes and hair the same dark blond as Andra’s husband’s.



“Where were you going so fast?” he asked, his voice quiet and gentle as if he was trying not to scare her.



“I was just getting some exercise.”



He pulled a phone out of his pocket and started playing with it, his thick fingers flying fast. He watched her and not what he was doing. “The only thing down this hall is the garage. You wouldn’t be trying to sneak out, would you?”



He’d caught her. She was cornered. Trapped. Panic raked her skin and she realized there was only one thing she could do to escape.



Tori moved fast, giving him no time to react. She pulled a steak knife from her bag and stabbed it into his chest.



Nicholas stared down in disbelief at the knife buried in his chest. Pain radiated out from the wound, but it was nothing compared to the pain he endured every day as his power grew. Nothing compared to the betrayal he felt.



Tori had stabbed him. All he’d wanted to do was stop her from leaving and getting herself hurt or killed. Hell, he hadn’t even touched her, despite his urge to see if she was the one who could save his life.



Jackie sure as hell hadn’t wanted him. Not that he blamed her.



Tori’s small hand was still wrapped around the wooden handle of the knife. When he felt her tug on it, likely to pull it out and stab him again, he covered her hand with both of his, holding the knife in place.



The pain his growing power caused seem to dull. The edges rounded, and the bulging pressure behind his eyes eased. Everything within him went still and quiet—even his heart stopped for a few, timeless seconds.



Tori was compatible with his power. She could save him.



He hadn’t been this close to her before, but now that he was looking at her, he realized she was just a child. A feral, deranged child.