On the Hunt

A moment later, the feeling subsided and she opened her eyes. "There were two disks in the box. One of them is still here. Nearby. The other . . ." She shook her head. "It's too far away for me to feel it."



"Feell it?"



Her gaze drifted to the floor as if she were ashamed. "I don't know how it works, but I can feel certain artifacts when they get close. Those disks were like that for me."



That news left Neal reeling. Every female Theronai seemed to have some kind of specialty, but if hers was finding Sentinel artifacts, she was going to be invaluable to them.



Assuming she agreed to become part of their world.



He couldn't forget that other women like her had balked at the notion of leaving their human world behind. Viviana had already been through a lot tonight. He couldn't push her, no matter how much the need to do so burned in him.



Right now, when he was touching her like this, and the pain was gone, it was easy to be patient.



But as soon as he had to let go, and that mountain of pain came crashing down on top of him again, patience was a lot scarcer.



He couldn't force her to accept his luceria. It had to be her choice, and lingering here in the room with the body of her dead friend was not the way to convince her to make the right one.



"I don't want you to watch," he told her. He was going to have to move the body and he didn't want her seeing anything . . . upsetting.



She gave a tight nod and turned around, pulling from his grasp.



Neal clenched his muscles, readying himself for the agony he knew was only a heartbeat away.



He tried to prepare himself for it, but there was no preparing for the seething weight that bore down on him, crushing the air from his lungs.



A high, strangled sound hissed through his teeth, and he reeled inside the grip of that pain, powerless to stop it from tearing him apart.



Long seconds later, he was sweating and shaking, but at least his vision began to return.



If anything had happened during that moment of incapacitation—if the Synestryn had attacked—there wouldn't have been a thing he could have done to stop it. He would have been unable to protect Viviana.



And that thought was the one that changed his mind about patience. He had to convince her to take his luceria and end his pain. Tonight. It was the only way he could ensure that she stayed safe.



But not here. Not in this house. He couldn't do that to her.



Neal made quick work of searching the professor's desk for the disk. When he didn't find it, he moved to the man's pockets, and there, deep inside the pocket of his sweater, lay the cold, metal, palm-size disk.



He shoved it into his jeans pocket and eased the man's remains to the floor. He grabbed a crocheted throw from the back of a nearby recliner and draped it over his body.



"Time to go," he said, grabbing Viviana's arm with his clean hand as he left the room.



"Did you find anything?"



"Yes." He ducked into a bathroom he found down the hall and washed the blood from his hand, keeping the light off so she didn't have to see the mess. "You said you can sense these objects?"



"If they're close."



He hurried them out the front door, keeping a grip on her arm so she wouldn't slip. "How close?"



"I can usually tell whenever one of them comes into the city."



He had to find that second disk. From what little Gilda had told him, he didn't think the gadget would heal without both halves, and Torr was running out of time. "Do you have any sense of direction as to where the second disk went?"



"I don't know. I have to concentrate," said Viviana.



"Got it."



They got in his truck and he fired up the engine and drove back down the gravel driveway.



"Where are we going?"



"Just warming up the engine so we can get some heat," he lied. Truth was he didn't want any nosy neighbors to see his truck and report it to the police when they eventually found the professor's body. With any luck, the truck's tire tracks would be filled in with snow before anyone else knew of the professor's death.



Neal drove a few miles and pulled into the entrance to some farmland. A snow-covered chain barred his path, but for now, this was as good a place as any to stop. It was nice and open around them, giving him a clear view if any monsters headed their way.



"Okay. Do your thing," he said.



Her body was rigid in the seat, and he could see shiny streaks where her tears of grief had finally fallen.



Neal wanted to pull her into his arms and offer some kind of comfort, but he didn't dare. He still felt battered from the previous time he'd stopped touching her bare skin, and he wasn't sure how much more punishment he could take. If the pain did eventually kill him, she'd be left unprotected.



Viviana closed her eyes, squeezing out more tears. Seeing her cry damn near broke his heart, but there was nothing he could do to bring back her friend. He didn't even have a freakin' tissue to give her. The only things he had to offer were a strong sword arm and his desperation for her to save him. It made him a needy bastard, but there wasn't much he could do about that.



A few seconds later, she let out a disheartened sigh. "I can't feel it. It's too far away. I'm sorry."



Her eyes started tearing up again, and Neal couldn't stand it any longer.



He slid across the seat and gathered her in his arms. She tucked her head against his shoulder, melting into him. Her fingers clenched in his shirt and he could feel the tremors of her grief tumbling through her. "It's okay, sweetheart. Don't worry. We'll figure something out."



"I killed him. I gave him that artifact and it brought those things here."



"We don't know that's what happened."



"Don't patronize me. That's exactly what happened. And now I can't even find the artifact they stole."



Neal hesitated only a moment before he made up his mind. Sure, she knew little about his world or who she really was. And no, she didn't know about what he was going to ask her to do or what it might cost her. But what he did know was that the luceria thought they belonged together, and after seeing the happy matches his Theronai brothers had made, he wasn't going to question the gift that was being offered to him. He was going to grab it with both hands and hold on as tight as he could.



Viviana was meant to be his, and he was going to make it happen.



"I can help you with that," he offered. "I've known women like you before who had powers and I know how to amplify them. Make them stronger."



She pulled away enough to look into his eyes. "How?"



And here was the tricky part. He fished the humming band of the luceria out from under his shirt to show it to her. "All you have to do is wear my luceria."



Chapter Five



Viviana was weighed down by the loss of her friend, but even through the foggy haze of grief, she could tell Neal was hiding something from her. "It's magic, isn't it? Like the disks?"



Neal nodded, his dark eyes glittering with hope.



"What does it do?"



"The luceria is two parts of a whole. We each wear one. It will connect us and allow you to tap into the stores of power inside me. You can use that power to fuel your ability, which will amplify it."



"You think that if I wear that necklace, I'll be able to sense where the second disk went?"



"I do."



That artifact had caused enough pain and suffering. She needed to find it and put it where no one could ever get hurt again.



She held out her hand. "Give me the necklace."



"That's not the way it works. You have to take it off me."



Viviana's hand shook as she reached for the luminescent band. The swirling display of earth tones intensified the closer her hand got. Of all the Sentinel artifacts she'd seen over the years, this one was the most intriguing. It felt . . . alive. She could almost feel some kind of intelligence working within it.



She slid one finger under the band, enjoying the supple warmth and the slippery texture. A flowing plume of bronze spiraled out from her finger and it seemed to heat. It was going to feel so nice against her skin and look so pretty around her neck.



The band broke open and slipped down beneath Neal's shirt. He pulled it out and took the loose ends in his blunt fingertips. "Are you sure?" he asked.



Viviana nodded. She wanted to know what it felt like to wear something so beautiful and magical, even if it was only for a little while.



Neal reached around her neck and she heard a subtle click as the ends locked shut.



He leaned back, his eyes fixed on the band. His voice was a reverent whisper. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment. I don't want to mess it up or scare you."



"Why would you scare me?"



"I'm going to cut myself a little now and offer you my promise."



Confusion swept over her as she watched him strip off his shirt. "Cut yourself? Why?"



"It's the only way to finish the process of connecting us." He drew his sword, making it appear.



He sliced a shallow cut over his heart with the edge of the blade. "My life for yours," he said, then gathered a drop of blood on his fingertip and pressed it against the necklace. "You have to give me a promise of your own now to complete the process."



"I don't understand."



"I know. I'm rushing you. I didn't want to, but I can't seem to stop myself," he said. "Just follow your instincts."



A promise? She had no idea what kind of promise he wanted, but she could sense the magic of what they were doing surrounding her. With the snow falling outside, there was a hushed kind of reverence in his actions, the quality of an ancient ceremony. She really didn't want to ruin that. "I promise to help you find the artifact and put it somewhere safe so that no one else can get hurt."



She saw disappointment flash across Neal's face a second before the band around her neck shrank until it fit close to her skin. Her vision wavered until the confines of the truck disappeared and she was suddenly somewhere else. Overlooking a valley. It was dark—the kind of dark one found only well outside the light pollution of cities. There was an old log home nestled below. It was a tiny, one-room structure with smoke billowing up from its chimney. There were no security lights, no propane tanks, no vehicles. It appeared to be a scene from sometime long ago, though she couldn't imagine how that was possible.