Living Nightmare

“You can’t get away from me,” she told him. “Stop trying.” And to make sure he did, she rolled his heavy body over onto his back.



His face was ashen. His eyes had dilated until only a thin ring of green remained. His body trembled and his breathing was way too fast.



Nika righted the phone and said, “Something’s wrong with Madoc.”



Nicholas was still there, sounding relieved to have heard from her again. “Tell me what happened.”



“He was attacked by sgath.”



“They hit him?”



“Yeah.”



“It’s poison. The Sanguinar can fix it. Just hold on. Help should be there any minute.”



“What do I do?”



“Is he bleeding badly?” asked Nicholas.



He’d lost a lot of blood, but none was gushing out. “Bad enough.”



“You need to leave him, Nika. Get as far away as you can.”



“No.”



“It’s the middle of the night. His blood will bring Synestryn down on you.”



“That’s why I need to be here. To fight them off.”



“You can’t fight them off. You need to run.”



From somewhere to her left, Nika heard a long, hungry howl. The Synestryn had caught the scent of Madoc’s blood.



“Run,” whispered Madoc, his eyes pleading with her.



Nika set the cell phone down where he could hear reassurances that help was on the way; then she stood and picked up Madoc’s sword.



She didn’t dare try to lift it up before the last second for fear her arms would give out too early.



“Run,” he panted.



Nika spared him a quick glance. His skin seemed grayer, and a panicked sense of desperation made her body tense.



“I’m not leaving you. Not now. Not ever. Get used to it.”



Behind her, she heard an engine roaring and tires screaming. In front of her, she heard more howls join the first.



Her body shivered against the cold. She couldn’t feel her toes anymore, and her fingers were aching from the frigid metal hilt.



A shimmering light glowed as bright as daylight on her left. She wasn’t sure what it was, so she turned toward it, splitting her attention between the howls and whatever threat that light posed.



“Nika! Nika Madison!” a distant voice shouted from the direction of her truck. Help.



“Here!” she yelled, standing her ground over Madoc.



The shadowy shapes of two men were running toward her. She couldn’t see who they were, but they had all the right parts to be human.



They got close enough to see. She didn’t recognize either of the young men, but they were definitely human and both armed with shotguns.



They positioned themselves so one was on each side. “See anything?” the older one asked. She guessed he was a few years older than her, but not much.



“No. Heard them howling, though.”



“Looks like the cavalry’s coming,” said the younger man in front of her. He nodded toward the light.



“What’s that?”



“Portal. They’ll be here any second.”



As the last word left his mouth, the light solidified, then ripped open in a perfect line as if someone had split the air with a blade. The line widened and Helen stepped through, followed closely by her husband, Drake. Seconds later, Angus and Gilda spilled through as well.



Relief made Nika sway, and if it weren’t for the sword poking against the frozen ground, she might have fallen.



Angus gave her a reassuring smile, which made the lines on his craggy face deepen. “You did well. We’ll take it from here.” He lifted his hand, silently asking for the sword.



Nika’s arm didn’t move, so he came to her and lifted the blade away from her numb fingers. One of the young men wrapped his coat over her shoulders and the warmth made her moan in thanks.



Helen flipped one of her twin braids over her shoulder, waved a hand, and a long line of flames erupted from the ground several yards away. Drake drew his sword and stood by her side, scanning the area.



Gilda lifted the hem of her gray gown and knelt beside Madoc in the snow. She pressed her dainty hands on either side of his face, and bent her head as if in prayer.



A series of short yelps rose up from the trees nearby. They were closer now.



“The two of you need to get Nika away from here,” said Angus to the humans. “We’ll follow shortly.”



“I’m not leaving him,” said Nika.



“You’ll just be in the way. We’ll bring you to him when it’s safe.”



She was not going to be pushed around like a child. This was too important for her to bend. “No. He’s mine and I’m staying.”



Drake peered over his broad shoulder, sharing a questioning look with Angus.



“Yours?” asked Angus.



“Yes.”



“You know what you’re saying, don’t you?”



“I do,” she said, making her statement ring out loud and clear.



“I thought he said you weren’t compatible.”



“He was wrong.”



“Then why haven’t you—”



Irritation and fear made her cut him off before he could ask any dangerous questions. “We’re working on it.”



“Incoming,” said Helen. She lifted her arms away from her body and her hands erupted in flames.



Angus pointed to a spot next to Madoc. “Stay there next to Gilda. Don’t move unless I tell you. Got it?”



Nika nodded. As long as he didn’t ask her to leave Madoc, she’d do whatever he wanted.



Gilda’s eyes were closed and her forehead was creased in a frown of concentration. A fine tremor passed through her every few seconds.



Nika didn’t dare interrupt her to ask what she was doing. She wanted to touch Madoc—to hold his hand—but she feared even that might mess Gilda up. So, Nika hugged the borrowed coat around her body to keep her hands busy and bit her lip to stay silent.



An explosion went off a few yards away, shaking the ground.



Nika’s head jerked up to see a ball of flame consume a trio of furry Synestryn the size of large dogs. Now that the flames lit the area, she could see there were at least a dozen more coming out of the trees.



Helen’s arm moved like she was pitching a baseball and another group of demons exploded into flames.



“We’ve got more in the east,” shouted one of the young men.



Angus glanced at Gilda. “She’s not done yet. We’re going to have to do this the hard way.”



The men nodded and took up positions on either side of Angus. “You two guard our flank. I’ll cut down the middle.”



“I might be able to help,” said Nika. “If they have any of my blood in them.”



“No,” said Angus. “It’s too dangerous. If you want to help, keep watch and let us know if anything gets through.”



She could do that. It wasn’t enough, but it was something.



Gilda lifted her head, letting out a long, slow breath that turned silver in the cold air. “I’ve slowed the poison. That should give us time for a Sanguinar to show up.”



“Are they coming?”



She gave a weary nod. “Logan’s on the helicopter. He’ll be here soon.”



Gilda struggled to stand, so Nika helped her up. Nika wasn’t exactly a bounty of strength, but the desire to help burned bright inside her, unable to resist.



Gilda frowned at her as if startled by the offer of assistance, but she took Nika’s hand. “Thank you.”



She rose to her feet, took position at Angus’s left side, and waited for the Synestryn to come.



For the first time in Gilda’s long, long life, she felt old. Worn-out.



There had been a time when she could have opened a portal, healed Madoc, and still fought off a horde of Synestryn without breaking a sweat. But now, before she’d even risen to her feet to fight by Angus’s side, she was exhausted.



Helen had slain all the demons on her side of combat and was now coming to clean up the mess Gilda had left behind.



The younger woman smiled as she fought, the fire flowing freely from her hands as if she’d been born to it. There was a kind of freedom in Helen now that hadn’t been there only a few months ago. She was growing into her power even as Gilda was drawing away from hers.



The distance between her and Angus was getting wider, making it harder and harder for her to tap into his power. Since he’d agreed to allow Tynan to try to restore his fertility, they’d hardly spoken.



She’d kept her word and refused to allow him to share her bed. That refusal had grown into a chasm between them that seemed to widen every day.



She was losing him.



Gilda flung out a short burst of wind, hoping to knock a pair of demons off their feet for the men to slay with their swords. Instead, she barely ruffled their fur, and the effort left her weaving on her feet.



Helen stepped forward, lifted her hands, and a wall of fire spewed forth, tossing the flaming beasts into a rocky outcropping, where they hit hard and then stopped moving.



While Gilda panted, trying to catch her breath, Helen finished her job.



Shame burned bright inside Gilda—shame for her weakness and shame for all the things she’d done to the people around her.



She’d alienated everyone she loved and betrayed those she loved most.



The fighting had died off, and she knew Angus would come to her as he always did. Despite her treatment of him, he still performed his duties and upheld his vows.



His wide hand came into her field of vision, reaching for her. “You’re tired. Come and rest in the warmth of one of the vehicles while we get ready to move.”



Gilda ached to take his hand and feel the loving warmth of his skin against hers. She hated the rift that had grown between them. She wanted things to be like they used to be before all her lies had come between them—before she’d betrayed him and all the other male Theronai by sterilizing them without their knowledge or consent. None of them knew that she was the cause. Her lies had hid her betrayal well.



And yet, if she took Angus’s hand, that would simply be one more lie. As much as she wanted his touch, she knew she wouldn’t allow it. She couldn’t lose another child, and if Angus touched her, her resolve would crumble. And if Tynan’s cure had worked, she’d conceive.



That could not happen. Never again.



So, rather than lie to him and offer him any sliver of hope that things could be as they once had been, she turned her back on him and walked away.



The stab of rejection he felt leaked through their connection before it was hastily controlled. Gilda pretended she hadn’t felt it. Her warrior had his pride and it was the least she could do not to take that from him, too.



Chapter 11



John Hawthorne knew better than to be out in weather like this, but the dreams he’d been having for the past week had pushed him out the door.



Just like in his dreams, it was dark and snow was falling at the rate of an inch an hour. And just like in his dreams, there was this nagging itch in his gut telling him that someone out here needed his help.



His windshield wipers slapped across the glass, packing a frozen layer of snow around the edges of their reach. His Jeep managed pretty well on the roads, but he had to crawl along at a frustratingly slow pace to make sure he didn’t slide off.