Living Nightmare

She’d always felt that need, but it hardly mattered now. “He doesn’t want me.”



Logan laid a hand on Tynan’s shoulder as if to quiet him. “Madoc doesn’t know what he wants right now. He’s not himself. He’s . . . sick.”



“Not sick. Dying. His soul is dying,” she whispered.



Logan nodded slowly. “I know you weren’t raised as one of us, but surely you know what that means—what will happen if Joseph finds out.”



“He’ll kill him.”



Tynan rubbed the back of his neck. His voice was still quiet, like breathing was difficult. “You have to find him. Stop him.”



“How?”



“You have to take his luceria.”



“I tried. It didn’t work.”



“I felt the power of your blood combining with his inside me. It was . . . incredible. That’s why I’m not dead right now. I was able to heal myself because of that power.”



“You took her blood again?” asked Logan in confusion. “You said it was dangerous.”



“There was no other way. I had to know.”



“Know what?” asked Nika.



“If the two of you were compatible.”



“Madoc says we’re not. He says we’d know if we were.”



“He’s wrong. His blood mixed with yours, keeping it from hurting me. I also have fed from enough bonded Theronai pairs to know what I felt. He’s using some kind of magic to slow the normal aging process of his lifemark. That magic must be getting in the way of your bonding.”



Realization hit her as all the pieces fell into place. “The black ring,” she whispered.



“What ring?” asked Logan.



“He wears this ugly black ring. It’s unnaturally cold.”



The two Sanguinar shared a look that seemed to communicate something she didn’t understand.



Logan rose to his feet, stripping off his shirt. “Go in the bathroom. Clean the blood off and change into this shirt. Then you need to leave. Immediately. Find Madoc; take off that black ring, even if you have to cut off his hand to do it. Once you do that, you should be able to take his luceria.”



“And if I can’t?” she asked.



“Then he’s going to die.”



“What about Tori? She’s still alive. I have to find her.”



“How?”



“I don’t know. She won’t talk to me anymore. She’s keeping me out.”



“Then you truly do need Madoc,” said Logan. “His power could help you find her, okay? He’ll make you stronger.”



Nika wasn’t sure about anything anymore. It all seemed too surreal and distant. She wanted to save Madoc, but she couldn’t forget about Tori, either. And she couldn’t forget the sight of him twisting Tynan’s neck.



“Nika,” snapped Logan, his voice impatient. “You need to go now. He doesn’t have much time left and there’s nothing Tynan or I can do for him. You’re the only one who can save him.”



“I should bring help. There’s no way I can overpower him.”



“Anyone you would ask to go with you would be honor-bound to bring him back for execution. Is that what you want?”



“No. Of course not.”



“Then no one else can know. Tynan and I know how to keep a secret, but it can’t go beyond us. Do you understand?”



She did now. “If I tell anyone, Madoc dies.”



“Correct.”



Madoc was sick. He needed her.



In the end, Nika knew there was no real choice to make. She cleaned away the blood, put on the borrowed shirt, and went to get the keys to Andra’s new truck.



She wasn’t sure what she’d find—the man who took care of her or the monster who killed without remorse—but she knew she had to look.



Meghan had been driving on the unplowed road long enough that she could feel her shoulders moving up toward her ears. Her back ached with tension, as did her knuckles. Driving in this white mess was maddening, but she couldn’t seem to make herself stop. Whatever was compelling her had only grown stronger with each mile that passed.



Wind blew a wall of snowflakes at her windshield, blinding her for a moment. When they cleared, a man was standing in the middle of the road.



Meghan panicked for a brief second, but it was long enough for her to make the mistake of trying to stop. She braked and swerved, sending her car into a spin. The world whirled around her in a blindingly white display before the side of her car slammed into something hard. Her head hit the window and everything winked out of existence.



Alexander rushed over the snow to check on Meghan. He hadn’t intended her accident to be quite so spectacular, but it was necessary to his plan.



John Hawthorne could not suspect any manipulation. He was the kind of man who would ask too many questions—questions that could cause Alexander and the rest of the Sanguinar problems. John’s meeting with Meghan had to look accidental, and it had taken almost a year of planning to make that happen.



Meghan’s car was slanted in a shallow ditch against the tree she’d hit. The passenger’s side of her car was crumpled, but the engine was still running, keeping her warm.



Alexander shivered in the cold even as he tried to ignore it. John’s mind was too strong to make him do anything against his nature, and leaving town to seek out a woman nearly two thousand miles away was definitely not in the man’s nature.



So Alexander had devised a plan that would allow John’s impressive protective instincts to come into play. With the lovely Meghan as a victim, John would be helpless to resist her.



Alexander made sure no snow blocked the car’s exhaust system; then he went to Meghan’s side. His hands were frigid as they moved over her face, seeking out any serious injury she might have. He wanted her rattled, not incapacitated.



Her warmth called to him, urging him to draw her closer, but Alexander resisted. John would be driving past here in only a few moments. There wasn’t much time.



Alexander needed to be sure there was no internal damage, so he lifted her wrist to his mouth and slid his fangs into the delicate vein throbbing there. Her blood flowed over his tongue, and for a moment, he was lost in the taste of her. Her blood was more powerful than most humans’, and the urge to drink his fill and sate his hunger pounded through him.



He needed to have enough of that delicious power to erase his footprints in the snow, without making her too weak to do what he needed her to do.



Before it was too late, he let a small amount of power spill from him, seeking out any injuries she might have. There was a bruise on her head, but it was nothing serious. She was already sliding back toward consciousness and would awake in the next few minutes. He needed to be gone before that happened.



With a force of will, he healed her skin and pulled her wrist from his mouth.



Alexander positioned her so the bruise on her head was visible through the window, opened her coat, and unbuttoned her shirt enough to display her ample bosom. If he was going to set a trap for a human man, he might as well use all the bait at his disposal.



Nika had been on the road for only twenty minutes when she felt the first tug of a sgath on her mind.



Panic slithered through her, making her hands sweat as they clenched on the steering wheel.



This couldn’t be happening now—not while she was on the road and snow was coming down faster and faster, and Madoc was getting farther away from her with every passing second. It was the worst possible time.



She gripped the steering wheel tighter and tried to lock every mental barrier she had into place.



The next pull was stronger, more forceful. It made her head spin until she had to pull Andra’s new truck to the side of the road before she slid off.



“Madoc!” She called out for him, wishing now that she hadn’t killed his cell phone.



A low, hungry growl reverberated inside her skull. She caught a flash of huge paws sinking silently into a thin layer of snow, felt a chill invade her hands and feet, smelled the cold air. Her stomach twisted with hunger.



Hunt, kill, eat.



The sgath wanted her to come with it. She made it smarter, stronger.



“No,” Nika growled into the cab of the truck as she fought the monster’s pull.



Then there were two. They tugged at her mind, trying to pull it in different directions.



Outside the walls of Dabyr it was easier for them to reach her.



“Madoc.” Her cry was weaker this time, and she knew she was losing this battle.



Nika scrambled for her cell phone and dialed Andra. No answer. She tried Grace, with the same useless result. Tynan was the only other one she could think to call.



He answered immediately: “Did you find him?”



“No. I need help. The sgath want me. I need Madoc.”



“Hold on.”



He was gone for too long. Nika had begun to shake from the effort to resist them. Before, the cold had helped, so she rolled down the windows and let the winter air flood the truck.



The sgath jerked away from the cold, giving her a moment to catch her breath.



Tynan came back on the line. “Nicholas has a tracking device on all the cars. The one Madoc took is not far from you. Hang up so he can call you and talk you through it, okay?”



Nika nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see her for a moment before she answered, “Thanks.”



She hung up and her phone rang again immediately.



Nicholas’s voice sounded weary, but gentle. “Heya, Nika. I hear you’re in a bit of a bind. Can you drive?”



Her teeth were chattering, but at least the cold kept the sgath at bay. “Yeah. Think so.”



“Okay, then. Let’s go find Madoc.”



He guided her to a highway, then had her exit in only a few miles.



“I put his phone in the garbage disposal,” she admitted.



“Don’t worry. Knowing him, he deserved it. I’ll get him a new one.”



If he lived long enough.



“How much farther?” Beneath the snow was a gravel road, but it seemed less slick than the paved roads had been.



“You should be able to see his truck any minute. On your right.”



The truck lurched as it passed over a deep pothole. She cleared the top of a hill, and down in the next valley she saw the gleam of chrome.



“I see it.”



“Great. Need anything else?”



As she got closer, she could see that the truck sat empty. She slowed, and through the open windows, she heard a metallic hiss followed by an enraged roar.



She knew that voice. Madoc.



Nika turned toward the sound and saw Madoc with his back to a blunt rock outcropping. In front of him were half a dozen sgath, only they were bigger than any of the ones she’d seen before. Their sharklike teeth were bared, and glowing yellow saliva dripped from their jaws.



“God, no,” she breathed.



“What?” asked Nicholas, the word tight with panic.



Nika had forgotten she held the phone until she heard his voice. “He’s going to get himself killed.”



She dropped the phone, dug under the seat for Andra’s shotgun, grabbed a handful of extra shells, and ran toward Madoc, screaming to get the monsters’ attention.



Madoc heard Nika’s war cry and saw her racing across the snowy ground. Her white hair flew out behind her as she leaped over a fallen tree.