Running Scared

Page 17


Andra’s voice was soft and quiet. “We need to find out if he can help you.”

“I don’t want his help,” said Nika.

“But you need it, baby.”

“I don’t want to force you,” said Samuel. “I’ll come back a little later, okay?”

“No, no, no,” said Nika. “Not later. Just do it.”

Nika held out her hand and her body tightened as she cringed against the pain she thought was to come.

Samuel brushed the tip of his finger over her hand and Nika jerked back. His mouth turned down in a resigned grimace. As they watched Nika’s skin darkened and turned a bright, angry red. This time the blisters came fast, bubbling along her skin as if she’d been burned.

He said to Nika, “Guess I’m not going to be able to help you. I’m truly sorry for the pain I’ve caused you, my lady.”

Not as sorry as Madoc was. He knew this was just the beginning of her suffering. More men would come every day now that they knew she was here. They’d all want to touch her. Hurt her.

“This isn’t going to work,” Madoc told Andra.

Andra gave him a tight nod. “Apparently not. I’m going to go talk to Tynan. Can you stay here with her?”

“I’ve got things to do.”

“More important things than making sure Nika doesn’t try to wander off?”

“I thought you didn’t trust me,” said Madoc.

“I don’t. But Nika does.”

“I’m not letting you leave me again,” said Nika. She sounded tired, worn out from her ordeal with the men. She didn’t whine or beg, she simply said, “I need you.”

Fuck. How could he say no to that?

“Fine,” Madoc told Andra. “I’ll stay, but only for a little while. Hurry the hell back here, or get Grace.”

He felt Nika smile against his neck, the soft skin of her cheek stroking his skin, his luceria. Andra shut the door, closing them alone in the room together.

Madoc tried not to panic. He wasn’t going to hurt Nika. He was going to be very careful and make sure he didn’t make any mistakes. All he had to do was sit here and let her hold on to him until she fell asleep.

It didn’t take long. Her body relaxed and he eased her back under the covers where she belonged. Then, he moved the chair to the farthest corner of the room and sat his ass down.

He itched to go back to her, but he didn’t dare. She was safer with him all the way over here. The farther he stayed away from Nika, the better it would be for both of them.

It took almost an hour for Ronan to finish whatever the hell it was he’d done to Zach. He’d sent Lexi to burn all the bloody tape and bandages, and when she came back, she realized that Ronan had been drinking Zach’s blood.

An odd kind of fascinated disgust held her in place. She stood in the doorway, staring. Ronan lifted his mouth from Zach’s wrist and there was no blood, but there was something different about Ronan now. His skin had a healthy flush to it and his face didn’t seem quite so gaunt as before.

Ronan stripped his heavy trench coat from his body and rolled up his sleeve. He took a syringe out of his medical bag and slid the needle into his vein.

“Zach’s the sick one here,” said Lexi.

Ronan pulled the plunger out and the empty syringe filled with a pale yellow liquid. That glowed.

“Holy shit! What the hell are you?” she asked before she could think twice about it.

Ronan gave her an amused grin. “A Sanguinar.”

Vampire. Mom’s journal had dozens of pages going into detail about how dangerous the Sanguinar were. They could hypnotize their prey with a single glance and drain their blood in mere seconds. They had long, sharp claws and fed on the pain of their victims.

And Lexi was trapped in this house with one of them.

Her heart kicked hard and she backed up, slamming her head into the doorframe.

“I suggest you get ahold of yourself, little girl,” chided Ronan. “Zach doesn’t have time for you to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” she lied.

Ronan rolled his eyes. “Don’t lie to me. I can hear your heart racing.”

He could read her thoughts, too. Mom had said so.

Oh God. What if he knew what she was planning—that she was going to blow them up? What if he’d already read her mind? She was so dead.

“Get over here, Lexi. I need you to help me hold him down.”

“Why?” she asked, hoping to stall for time to figure a way out of this mess.

“Because I’m getting set to inject him with the antidote to his poison and he’s not going to like it. It hurts.”

“It didn’t hurt when it was inside of you.”

Ronan crossed the small room in two steps. His eyes glowed with angry blue light, and his jaw was bunched with frustration. “Yes, it did. And it made me more than a little cranky, so I suggest you start cooperating.”

He grabbed her arm and tugged her bodily back to the bed and pushed her down so she was sitting on Zach’s legs.


“Try to keep him still,” said Ronan; then he injected that glowing yellow stuff into Zach’s arm.

The reaction was immediate. Zach thrashed and a scream of pain tore from his lips. Lexi’s heart jumped into her throat and she bit her lip to keep from crying out in response to his pain.

Zach kicked, and she had to scramble to position herself so she wouldn’t get hurt by his powerful body. Ronan had practically draped himself over Zach’s torso and seemed to be holding him down with little effort. Lexi wasn’t so lucky. She kept Zach from hurting either of them, but that was about it. Her ribs were going to be bruised from his struggles.

After what seemed like half a year, the violent reaction subsided and Zach settled back onto the bed. He was sweating and shaking and making pitiful, agonized sounds that made her stomach clench in sympathy.

“Can’t you do something for him?” she asked.

Ronan fetched his coat from where it had fallen on the floor and pulled it on. “I’ve already done what I can. I’m not strong enough to ease his pain, too.”

He was so flipping casual about it, Lexi wanted to scream. “There has to be something you can give him.”

Ronan pinned her with a bright, hungry gaze. “There is one way. You could give me your blood. That would allow me the strength to ease his pain.”

He wanted her blood. Just like her mother had told her. Fear closed in around her, thickening the air with its stench. She had to get away before it was too late.

Lexi backed up, stumbling over the leg of the bed. “Not a fucking chance, vampire boy. Stay back.”

Ronan held up his hands, palms out. “As you wish. Let him suffer. I don’t care.”

“I thought you were his friend.”

An amused, almost condescending smile played at the corner of his full mouth. “We Sanguinar have no friends. You would do well to remember that.”

“Then why did you help him?”

“Because I need him to survive. Just as he needs you, young Theronai.”

Lexi refused to believe she was one of them. It was just one of the tricks they used to ensnare unsuspecting humans. She was smarter than that. She knew the score. “You’re wrong.”

One second he was on the far side of the room; the next, he was right in front of her, holding her face in his chilly hands. His touch was gentle, but she felt his restrained strength vibrating through his arm. She feared that if she flinched, he’d break her neck.

His eyes flared with a burst of light, and Lexi felt herself falling. He was so pretty. She could stare at him forever.

“That’s right,” he whispered. “Just let go. I’ve got you.”

She didn’t want to do that. It was dangerous; she just couldn’t remember why.

From somewhere far away, she heard Zach’s low moan of pain.

“He needs you, child,” said Ronan. “You need to go to him now. Soothe him. If he lives through the night, he’ll recover fully. You should help him.”

Yes. Zach needed her. “I don’t know how.”

“Your presence. Your touch. Bare skin on bare skin.”

She could do that. Even more, she wanted to do that.

“You can touch him all you like. Anywhere you like,” said Ronan.

Just the idea was enough to make her insides go liquid with need. Zach was laid out for her enjoyment. She could run her hands over him and no one would ever know.

“Perfect,” purred Ronan. “Such a good girl.”

His praise warmed her and made her feel giddy. Something wasn’t exactly right here, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be that important. Not as important as listening to Ronan and staring into his eyes. And certainly not as important as getting her hands on Zach.

“You’ll stay here tonight and call me if his condition worsens, won’t you?”

The urge to nod was strong, but she held back. She couldn’t stay. She had to run. She didn’t know why, but she knew it was important. “No. I have to go.”

“Not tonight. It’s safe here tonight.”

Lexi wasn’t sure, but surely Ronan wouldn’t lie to her. “It’s safe?”

His thumb stroked the side of her face and the light in his eyes glowed brighter for a moment. “Yes. And you’ll be with Zach so you can touch him.”

Safe and touching Zach. That sounded nice.

Ronan had to leave the house before he took Lexi’s blood against her will. She smelled so sweet, so pure. He was sure that the power thrumming through her veins would be rich and intoxicating.

And he so desperately needed that strength. He was tired. Hungry. His insides were twisting against the emptiness no normal food could ease.

He needed blood. Lots of it. He needed a rich source so he could replace the power that healing Zach had depleted. A source like the woman inside that ragged little house—the one he had mesmerized so easily with his gaze.

She would have given him anything if he’d taken only a little more time with her. He could have had her blood as well as her body. She was such a pretty, almost pixie-like woman that the idea was more than a bit tempting.

Too bad Lexi wasn’t human. If she had been, he would have fed from her without regard to her wishes. But whether or not she believed it, she was a Theronai. Protected. If he fed from her against her will, he’d be practically declaring war against her people.

That couldn’t happen. The Sanguinar needed the blood of the Theronai too much to risk alienating them.

But not for much longer.

Project Lullaby was going well. It was only a matter of time before the Sanguinar would once again be free to do as they pleased—before they would once again be the strongest of all the Sentinels.

Ronan wasn’t sure whether he should look forward to that day, or fear it.

Hunger twisted Connal’s belly. He could smell his food nearby, smell the fear shimmering out from her where her captor hid her in the darkness.

The alley where Zillah had chosen to meet was a dirty stretch of pitted asphalt in downtown Kansas City that reeked of human garbage and greasy rain puddles. Most of the lights here had been shot out, leaving conveniently deep shadows. Not that Connal needed the light. Even as weak as he was, he could still see through the stifling darkness to where Zillah waited.

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