Chapter 17

Drake watched Logan disappear into the trees, moving faster than he'd ever seen any Sanguinar run. Catching up with him wouldn't be easy and there were still two women to look after—one unconscious and the other without her walker to help her get around. "No. Let him go. He'll turn up eventually."

"What happened? You look like you never got blasted by the Handler. Even your hair has grown back."

"Logan did it. Right after he tricked Helen into a blood oath and fed from her."

Thomas let out a low whistle. "She's blooded?"

"Not just blooded. Logan says she's one of ours. A Theronai." Drake still couldn't believe Helen was one of his kind. It didn't seem possible even though it did explain a lot about the way he was drawn to her. The way he felt compelled to touch her no matter how much pulling away hurt. He had to shove his hands deep into his pockets to keep from doing just that.

Thomas stood still for a moment as if absorbing the words, then looked down at Helen's prone body. One of her braids had lost the band securing it and it had unraveled most of the way up. Her face was smeared with soot as were her bare arms. Oily black patches darkened her knees and the hem of her shorts. Synestryn blood. They'd have to wash it off her as soon as possible, though Drake suspected that if it had left any taint in her body, Logan would have neutralized it.

"If she's one of ours . . . You were drawn to her. You can bond to her."

Drake nodded.

"Do you think that I might be able to, too?"

The desperate hope lighting Thomas's eyes made Drake's chest tighten. Thomas was older than Drake. He'd had more years to gather power into his body, more years to suffer under the excruciating strain of containing it, like a balloon forced to hold too much air, stretched to the point of breaking. Even so, Thomas had never once complained, never once ignored his duty because it was too painful to go on.

Thomas had already touched Helen several times tonight, and if he felt anything odd, he'd never said so. Drake understood now what Logan meant when he said that Helen needed him. So far, Drake was the only one of the Theronai who could join with Helen and bring her into their world—show her her rightful place. Only the men she was capable of uniting with would be drawn to her. The power between a bonded pair of Theronai had to be compatible. That unexplainable, almost magnetic attraction was nature's way of letting them know which partners could make effective use of their power. If Thomas had felt it, he wouldn't be questioning it now. He'd already know.

Thomas reached out a wide, blunt-fingered hand slowly as if afraid he'd hurt her and placed it on her forehead. Drake wanted to stop him. He didn't like the thought of any other man touching her, but he held himself still. Silent.

Thomas needed to know the truth, and the only way to do that was to feel it for himself.

Thomas felt nothing when he touched Helen. No pull, no spark, no heat. Nothing but cool, smooth skin.

Helen could never be his.

He had one leaf left, only days until it fell and his soul shriveled, and for the first time in more than two centuries a female Theronai had walked into their lives. This was the thing they all prayed for. It was the only thing that kept the Theronai going despite the pain, despite the constant battles and bloodshed. That single, precious hope that one day they'd find a woman who could save them and help them fight. He'd found the woman, but there wasn't a thing she could do to save him.

He wasn't sure whether he should laugh or cry or just give up entirely—will his body to fly apart under the strain of holding too much energy and end his suffering.

Thomas closed his eyes and turned away from Drake, not wanting to share his failure with anyone. He refused to cry. Refused to wallow in self-pity. He'd known for a long time that he was nearing the end. This changed nothing. At least not for him.

Drake could claim her. At least Thomas could take some comfort in the fact that his friend would no longer suffer. Not a lot, but some.

Thomas cleared his throat. "We're only a couple miles from the farmhouse where we're supposed to meet the Gerai. We should get going."

"Thomas." Drake had reached for him, but Thomas saw it coming and stepped aside.

"Forget it. I'm fine."

"How much time do you have left?" Drake's chest was bare with only the shreds of his tattered shirt hanging from his shoulders. There were at least a dozen leaves left clinging to Drake's tree.

Beneath his own shirt, Thomas could feel the minuscule weight of the last leaf clinging to his lifemark. He pressed his hand against it as if he could help it hold on just a little longer. He could live for years even after it was gone, but he'd be doing so without his soul. Good. Evil. Soon it would all be the same to him. Whatever got the job done.

Thomas was not going to let that happen. He would not become like the things he hunted. "Enough time to find Kevin's sword. Let's go."

Drake hadn't moved. He was still standing beside Thomas, watching him. "She might not be the only one. What if there are others like her out there? You have to hold on."

"I will," Thomas lied. "Stop worrying about me. Helen's the one we need to worry about now."

Drake nodded. "I need to get her cleaned up. Burn her clothes." They were smeared with blood, both red and black. All of it was dangerous to leave behind. The scent would draw demons from miles away. Which was just one more reason to get moving.

"You shouldn't be touching her, at least not until you know you can stop without hurting yourself. If the Synestryn come again, she'll need you to be able to fight."

"I'll be able."

"You sure as hell weren't able to fight when you were on the diner floor, convulsing."

"It's better now."

"Yeah, because you're not touching her, moron." Thomas hated the sound of anger in his voice. He loved Drake like a brother. It wasn't Drake's fault that Helen couldn't save him.

"I'm sorry, Thomas."

"Forget it." Thomas looked at Helen lying so still in the back of the van. She was a miracle, just not his. The less time he spent thinking about that—looking at her—the better. "Let's just get out of here."

Drake managed to keep his hands off Helen for the rest of the drive, but by the time they got to the isolated farmhouse, his knuckles ached from keeping his fists so tight.

The Gerai had already arrived and were waiting for them outside. Two young men and a girl who couldn't have been out of high school sat on the steps leading to the covered porch. They were all armed in the manner of humans—each carrying a pistol as well as a shotgun. The girl had her pale hair hidden beneath a baseball hat, and her watchful eyes peered out from beneath the brim. The two men who were with her looked to be in their early twenties, both stocky and sharing enough facial features to identify them as brothers.

Drake stepped out of the van, keeping his hand near his sword while he surveyed the area for signs of Synestryn.

"It's safe," said the girl. She stood and held out her hand in an incongruously masculine gesture. "I'm Carmen and these are my cousins Slade and Vance. We live one county over, so we thought we'd come help. Alexander contacted us."

Alexander the Broody. A Sanguinar. Great. Just what this night needed. Another fucking bloodsucker.

Drake shook her hand, checking to make sure she wore the ring of the Gerai. It was a simple silver band etched with a single leaf. One ring was given to each of the blooded humans who vowed to aid the Sentinels. They were sworn to offer help whenever necessary, and it wasn't uncommon for entire families to swear their loyalty. They were also bound to secrecy. More often than not, the Gerai were humans who had been saved from the Synestryn, at least at some point in their ancestry. The more Athanasian blood a human had running through his veins, the harder it was to wipe his memories. Sometimes recruiting him was easier than scrubbing his mind.

Camen's ring gave off a subtle hum of power that any of the Sentinels could sense. It only worked for the one for which it had been created, so if someone stole a ring, it would be useless to help them pose as a Gerai. She was the genuine article, young as she was.

Maybe Drake was just getting old.

The two brothers stepped down and offered their hands as well. Both checked out.