Living Nightmare

Madoc’s heart squeezed, and an odd need flooded him. He’d spent centuries protecting others. It was habit for him at this point, done with no more thought than he gave to breathing. But with Nika it was different. The urge to wrap her in his arms warred with the need to growl and bare his teeth to the world, killing anyone who got close to her. The ferocity of his urges scared the hell out of him and warned him just how close he was to the end.



He could feel the last leaf of his lifemark clinging to his skin, hanging in the middle of its descent. The black ring he wore on his right hand had slowed the leaf’s fall, allowing him to cling to the last sliver of his soul and pretend to be normal. At least for a little while. The ring had been given to him by Iain, the leader of the secret group the Band of the Barren. Like all of the men in the Band, he was living on borrowed time. As long as the ring stayed on, he could hold on a while longer, endure the pain racking his body, and free Nika’s mind from the sgath that had stolen it.



He’d intended to help her from afar, protecting her from himself, but now she was here, close enough to touch, looking at him with trust shining in her blue eyes.



She had no idea how close he was to becoming a monster.



Nika put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as she jumped out of the truck. Against his will, Madoc’s hands went to her waist, lifting her down. Through the leather and the thick bulk of her sweater, he imagined he could feel the curve of her waist. It was a trick of the mind, since he knew damn well Nika had no curves. She was skin and bones, though her face had seemed to soften a bit since he’d last seen her months ago. There was a fullness to her cheeks that hadn’t been there before. With Nika covered by all those layers of clothes, Madoc could almost pretend she was a normal woman instead of a gaunt, frail thing he could break without even trying.



His fingers tightened around her waist and she looked up at him. “When we’re done here, I want to go back and finish what I started.”



Madoc watched her mouth move, mesmerized by the curve of her bottom lip. Was it fuller, too, or had he just imagined it? Maybe if he kissed her he’d be able to tell.



“You’ll help me, won’t you?” she asked.



Finally, the words sank in. There was no way in hell he was letting her go back to that graveyard, but if he told her that,she’d just try to find a way to go back without him.And that was going to happen only over his rotting corpse.



“We’ll see,” he said. “Let Connal tend to you first; then we’ll talk.”



“I don’t want him to touch me.”



“I know. Neither do I, but you know you can’t go around bleeding.”



A voice rose up from the darkness near the house. “No, she can’t,” said Connal. “Bring her in before we have a swarm on our hands.”



He moved his hands from Nika, but the lack of contact had him squirming. He wanted to reach out and touch her again, but knew better. The less contact he had, the better it would be for her.



Nika let out a discontented sigh and followed Connal inside the house. “Let’s get this over with.”



Madoc went inside and shut the door. The living room was furnished simply, with a couch and one recliner. Everything was a mix of neutral colors that kind of faded into blah.



Connal motioned to the couch for Nika to sit.



The Sanguinar was shorter than most, and probably weighed only half as much as Madoc. He had a baby face, making him look like he should be in college partying with his frat buddies. His hair fell over his forehead in a stylish swoop, and, like all the Sanguinar, his face was unearthily beautiful.



Nika hardly seemed to notice, unlike most women, who simply stood and stared as soon as one of the Sanguinar walked into a room.



Fortunately, that meant Madoc didn’t have to kill him when this was over.



“Take off your coat and sit down,” said Connal. Nika hesitated for a moment, before she relented and shed Madoc’s heavy jacket. Beneath that was a bulky sweater that fell partway over her hands, so she pulled that off, too, leaving her wearing only a thin, snug shirt.



Madoc froze in place, staring at her.



Gone was the frail girl he remembered, and in her place was a healthy, curvy woman. She was still thin, but her body had filled out, giving her breasts and hips a fullness that had been absent before. She no longer looked quite so breakable. Sure, he knew he could still hurt her, but it wasn’t like before. She wasn’t frail.



She was gorgeous. Perfect.



Madoc had stared so long without blinking that his eyes had dried out. Beneath the fly of his jeans he felt his cock swell, and his fingers clenched into fists to keep from reaching for her.



Connal looked from Nika to Madoc and back again. “You look like you’re seeing a ghost.”



Nika’s mouth lifted in a knowing smile. “No, he’s used to seeing a ghost and now he’s seeing the real person again.”



“You’re better,” said Madoc, his voice a reverent whisper.



“I told you I was. You didn’t listen.”



Madoc’s hands itched to reach out and slide over her body. He wanted to feel the slender curve of her hip, follow it up to the hollow of her waist, and continue on until her breasts filled his palms.



Her nipples beaded up, pressing against the thin cotton of her shirt as if she knew what he’d been thinking. Of course, his stare had probably given him away.



Connal cleared his throat. “I suggest we get moving here. Clearly, you two have things to discuss.”



“We do,” said Nika. Then she sat down and offered Connal her injured hand, dismissing Madoc.



The leech took her hand in his. Madoc gritted his teeth and planted his feet on the beige carpet, refusing to move. If he did, he’d draw his blade and use it to slice off Connal’s head for daring to touch her. It didn’t matter that he’d wanted this—that he’d brought Nika here so the Sanguinar could heal her. The only thing that mattered was the fact that another man was touching her.



After poking her skin for a moment, Connal looked up at Madoc with disgust plain on his face. “You pulled me from my work to deal with this? She’s not even bleeding anymore.”



“Told you,” said Nika.



“She was bleeding.”



Connal rose from the couch. “It was just a scratch. Next time, don’t call me unless someone’s lost a limb. Understand?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.



Leaving Nika and Madoc alone.



The pain inside Madoc’s head had been building all night. Killing those sgath had released some of the pressure, but not nearly enough. He needed to be back out there, killing and fucking so the pain wouldn’t eat him alive.



“Time to go,” he said.



“That depends on whether you’re taking me back to the cemetery.”



“I’m taking you back to Dabyr.”



She crossed her arms over her chest, which pressed her breasts together, pushing them up toward him as if she were offering them to him.



Madoc’s mouth watered at the temptation.



“Why?” she asked. “You know I’ll just leave again as soon as your back is turned.”



“Joseph will keep a better watch over you this time. I’ll make sure of it.”



“I’m not a child. I don’t need a babysitter.”



“Apparently, you do.”



“Just let me finish digging up those bones and I’ll go back quietly.”



If he did that, then he’d have to drive her back to the cemetery and spend the rest of the night shoveling dirt when he really needed to be killing something. “You can talk to Andra about that when we get home.”



“Andra is never home. She’s been chasing missing children in Illinois for the last two weeks. Besides, Andra is not my keeper. I’m an adult. I get to decide what I want to do.”



“I think you’ve shown just how intelligent your independent decisions are.”



“I’m doing the right thing.”



“Fine. Then do it with someone else. I’ve got places to be.”



“Go, then.”



“And leave you here alone?”



“I’ll be fine. There’s a main road not far—I was paying attention on the way here. I’m sure someone will stop and give me a ride.”



“You want to hitchhike?”



She lifted a slim shoulder. “Why not? I’ve never done it before, and after all those years in the hospital, I have a lot of living to catch up on.”



“That’s it. I’m done with this. I’m having Joseph send someone to come get you.” He pulled his cell phone from his belt and dialed Joseph. Before it could ring even once, Nika shot toward him, grabbed the phone, and raced into the kitchen.



Madoc was so shocked it took him a second to react. By the time he chased her into the kitchen, she’d already shoved the phone into the garbage disposal and flipped on the switch.



A horrible whining, grinding sound rattled the sink.



Nika stood there with a smugly pleased look on her face.



Madoc looked from her to the sink and back again. “I can’t believe you just did that.”



“I’m tired of having people dictate what I can and can’t do. I don’t need Joseph’s approval for anything. Or yours.”



She was taunting him. Maybe she didn’t mean to, but she was.



Madoc stepped forward, letting the rage that always bubbled below the surface show in his face. He wasn’t going to wear his civilized mask with her—not if she was going to taunt the beast.



The garbage disposal stopped, then buzzed angrily for a moment before it fell silent.



Nika stood her ground, but some of the color in her face drained away as she watched him get nearer.



“You’re getting dangerously close to pissing me off,” he warned.



Her chin went up an inch. “You don’t scare me.”



“No? Guess that just proves how soft in the head you really are, then.”



“You’re big and tough and mean, but you won’t hurt me.”



“You don’t know that.” Hell, even he didn’t know if he would continue to hold on to his control.



“I do. You and I are connected the way Paul and Andra are. I don’t understand exactly how to reach you yet, but if you killed me, you’d be killing yourself, too.”



Madoc refused to let his eyes move to the luceria ring on his left hand. He knew what he’d see. There wouldn’t be any swirl of color showing him that Nika and he were compatible—that she could tap into the vast pool of devastating power he housed within himself. There would be no movement, no subtle hum like a tuning fork after it was struck. His luceria was nearly dead, just like his soul. The colors that had lain within it for centuries, waiting for the time when a female Theronai would awaken them, had faded almost completely. The pale, nearly white band would look as it had for the last year. There was no sense in fooling himself that Nika had changed that.



She couldn’t be his. She couldn’t save him, no matter how much he wished otherwise.



If he didn’t get away from her soon, he was going to forget himself and decide he didn’t care that Nika would doubtless belong to another man any day now. Dozens of Theronai had been flying in from overseas, hoping she was their miracle.