Until Hope. Her blood was powerful in a way he hadn’t experienced for years. It was rivaled only by a few Theronai women, such as Helen, who’d been recently discovered—women whose blood was carefully guarded by their dangerous, sword-wielding husbands.
Once again he wondered if Hope might be one of them—a Theronai, the child of an Athanasian man and a human woman. It was possible. The women they’d found had no idea what they really were. Hope could be one more.
And if so, then the stirring in his groin when he looked upon her was more than inconvenient. It was forbidden. If she was a Theronai, touching her could start a war. If she was a Slayer, touching her could get him killed. If she was human, she belonged to Project Lullaby, and touching her would be akin to betraying his own kind.
Perhaps it was time to call in one of the Theronai. They were far better suited to protect her than Logan was—at least once the power Hope’s blood had given him was gone and he was once again weak.
He found himself resisting the idea of handing her safekeeping to another. He’d found her. He’d fed from her. He’d bargained with her. They were tied together.
That was the thought that spurred Logan to action. He was already growing too attached to the woman, and whether she was human, Theronai, or Slayer, that simply could not stand.
Logan retrieved his phone and dialed Joseph, the Theronai leader. Let him send someone to see to her safety and test her identity. If she was a Theronai, one of her own kind would know. If she wasn’t, she’d be in safe hands until such time as Logan or Tynan could find her a suitable mate. It was the safest course of action—one that would preserve the power flowing through her veins, and prevent Logan from doing something unforgivable.
Chapter 8
It was still early in the evening when Iain finished cleaning out the nest and went back to his Suburban.
Fucking demons hadn’t even put up enough of a fight to make him breathe hard. And the paltry battle sure as hell hadn’t done a thing to ease the pain swelling in his chest more with every day that passed.
He would have thought that after his soul died off some of that pain would have gone away. But no. No such luck.
His blood was running hot and he was way past the point where meditation would do him any good. The only thing that would help now was more fighting.
Iain pulled up an electronic map on his phone. Nicholas had rigged the thing to pinpoint the known locations of the child-face abominations. He selected the little pink dot that indicated his current location and deleted it. The next closest one was northern Kansas, which was a good two-hour drive on backcountry roads.
He hoped like hell that by the time he got there, the pain wouldn’t be any worse. Too much more and he wouldn’t be able to fight. And that he simply could not stand.
Iain put the vehicle in gear and headed for a road. He’d made a bit of a mess of some farmer’s field getting out here, but there was no help for that. At least he’d taken care of their infestation.
He’d just eased back onto a pitted blacktop road when he heard a noise rise up from behind him. It was low. Faint. More a brush of air than a sound.
A slow, satisfied smile stretched his mouth as he pulled to the side of the road.
Apparently, one of the demons had slipped past him and hitched a ride with the wrong man.
Ava’s body clenched hard, driving the breath from her lungs. The baby was coming. Right now.
She huddled under the blanket she’d found, crouched in the far backseat of the big SUV, trying to be quiet. She curled around her child, hugging her knees as close as possible in an effort to ward off the pain. A coppery taste filled her mouth as she bit down on her lip, struggling to be silent in the face of so much pain.
The tires bounced, jostling her hard. A second later, the car tilted sideways as it was parked in a deep ditch.
A car door opened, but Ava didn’t dare lift her head to peer out a window to see where they were. They hadn’t been driving long enough yet for her to have made a clean escape. She was still too close to the caves.
The back door at her feet was ripped open. The man she’d seen in the cave was standing there, holding a gleaming sword, looking ready to kill her. His face was a snarl of rage and veins in his neck stood out.
Fear, her faithful companion these long months, was there at her side, holding her close, refusing to let go. She held her dirty hands up as if they could do anything to shield her from his blade.
Her voice came out raw and scratchy from the fight to keep from screaming. “Please don’t hurt me.”
The man’s expression altered from rage to suspicion, but his blade stayed high and ready to strike. “Who are you? And how the hell did you get in my ride?”
“I was in those caves. I escaped. I didn’t know where else to go.”
She started to ask for his help, but her words were cut off as another wave of pain crushed her body. This time, there was nothing she could do to stop a low moan of agony.
“Are you hurt?” The man sheathed his sword, leaned inside, and grabbed her arms. He pulled on her, but her body was too tense to cooperate as he tried to pull her from the car.
She couldn’t speak. Pressure grew inside her as her body contracted. There was a wrenching kind of pain. She felt her skin tear as the baby’s head crowned.
Ava pushed the blanket away and reached between her legs, heedless of her lack of clothing. The jeans she’d been wearing when she was taken hadn’t fit her for months. Even the stretchy T-shirt she wore couldn’t cover her belly. Her immodesty had stopped having meaning a long time ago, and she only vaguely remembered now that there had been a time when she cared.
The man jerked the blanket away, finally seeing what was going on. “You’re pregnant.”
“Not for long,” she grated out between clenched teeth.
“Hell. Hold on.” He didn’t look worried. Simply resigned.
“Have you done this before?” she asked him.
“What?”