“It was the same man who tried to take me, wasn’t it?”
“That is my belief.” He pushed through the front doors of her studio, not bothering to lock them.
“He’s going to use her as bait, isn’t he?” asked Hope.
She was smart, and now that the shock was wearing off, her mind was working and she had arrived at the same conclusion he had. He only wished it had taken her a bit longer—that they would have been closer to rescuing Jodi before her head had cleared. The fog of shock was much easier to tolerate than stark reality.
“That’s good news,” he assured her. “If they intend to use her in that manner, they’ll keep her alive.”
Hope’s knees buckled and he tightened his hold, pressing her against his body to steady her. The slight tremors shaking her frame were easy to feel, even through their winter clothing. “They can’t kill her.”
“We’ll find her, Hope. You hold on to that and all will be well. I promise.”
As the weight of his vow fell on him, he realized his mistake. He should never have promised her such a thing. It was not in his power to give. But it was too late now.
He hurried her down the sidewalk, ignoring the curious stares of the few people they passed. He opened the door of the coffee shop and was immediately blasted by the smells of ground beans, cinnamon, and cocoa. His eyes watered from the intensity, but he managed to ignore it.
Logan settled Hope at the table nearest the counter and ordered her hot chocolate. It was done by the time he’d paid. He added extra sugar and used ice to cool it down. When the temperature no longer burned his mouth, he wrapped Hope’s fingers around the paper cup and said, “Drink.”
The wisp of compulsion he used was slight, but he wanted no argument. She needed sustenance and fluids.
She also needed to be behind the locked gates at Dabyr. That was clear now. The Synestryn who’d infected the Dorjan wanted her for some reason. It hardly mattered why. What did matter was that the demon was not likely to stop until he got what he wanted.
Logan would die before he let that happen.
Nicholas strode into the coffee shop, his scarred face grim. His black leather jacket clung to his wide shoulders. His hair was mussed from the wind and his cheeks were red from cold. The woman behind the counter gave him an uneasy look before she moved to the phone on the wall. If Nicholas noticed her mistrust, he gave no outward sign.
“What’s up?” he asked, his voice quiet.
“Not here. Where are you parked?”
“Double-parked. I didn’t want to wait for a spot.”
Logan reached to help Hope from her chair, but stopped at the last moment, pulling himself back. Touching her was not his right, and the more he did so, the harder it became to remember that.
He looked at Nicholas. “She’s weak. Shaken.”
Nicholas nodded and wrapped his big hand around her arm to lift her from her chair. His thick arm came around her waist, making Logan grit his teeth against a jealous cry of outrage.
He averted his eyes and Nicholas helped her into the backseat of his SUV and buckled her in. “Don’t you worry, Hope. We’re going to take good care of you.”
She looked up at Nicholas, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “They took Jodi. They couldn’t get me so they took Jodi.”
Nicholas stroked her hair to soothe her. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Logan had to unclench his fists before he could open the car door. Possessiveness was going to get him nowhere. Worse, it could exacerbate their troubles immensely. He had to stay logical and focused.
They drove away and Logan wasted no time filling Nicholas in on what had passed. The Theronai assessed the situation quickly. “We need to find Jodi before it’s too late. We’ll take her back by force and kill the demons who took her. But first we need to get Hope to Dabyr.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” said Hope, her voice resonant with determination. “Jodi’s my friend. She’s in this mess because of me. I’m going with you.”
“You’ll only slow us down,” said Nicholas.
“The longer we wait, the farther away they’ll get. Logan can track them now, like he did the man in the warehouse.”
Nicholas shot him a sideways glance. “That true?”
“Yes. But I’d feel better if Hope were at Dabyr.”
“Every second counts.” Hope put her hand on his shoulder. Her finger inadvertently stroked his neck, making his body clench in desire. “Please don’t let her die. Find her. You promised.”
He had. It had been stupid, but he’d made the mistake and now he had to live with it.
Logan eased the window down an inch. He hated letting the cold in to chill Hope, but there was no help for it.
He gathered some power and breathed in through his nose, seeking the scent of blood.
“What are you doing?” asked Nicholas.
“Blood hunting.” His eyes cast a pale glow on the window as he eased himself into a trancelike state.
Minute particles of power wove through the air, creating faint, visible streams. Those particles seemed to be drawn to Nicholas. They bombarded him, adding to his already vast stores of energy—energy that was slowly killing him.
Logan sifted through the streams, searching for the ones that matched the scent of Jodi’s blood or the Dorjan who’d taken her. He caught a slight glimpse and forced his mouth to move. “Turn right.”
Their direction shifted and two delicate strands of power came into view. He breathed in deeply, testing them to see if they were the ones he sought.
The match was true. Both Jodi and the Dorjan had gone this way. He had their trail now and it was only a matter of time before he caught them.
You’re being followed by a Sanguinar.
Hacksaw heard the master’s voice in his head, booming like a loudspeaker. He swerved off the side of the road, nearly hitting a mile marker.
“What do I do?”
You cannot lead them here. Kill him.
Hacksaw didn’t dare question the master. He didn’t understand why the master wouldn’t want the glory of slaying a Sanguinar himself, but it was not his place to talk back. Instead, he exited the highway and went down a quiet country road.
A few miles down was a turnoff on a hill that would give him an excellent view of the top. He got his machine gun from the backseat.
As soon as he saw the vampire, he’d blow him away and take his corpse back to the master as a treat for his pets.
Chapter 21
Krag split his attention between what Hacksaw was doing as well as the scene playing out before him. Two of his women had disagreed, and they were now rolling around on the floor, trying to kill each other.
He didn’t know who’d win. He didn’t even care. The sport was enough of an amusement that he’d see what he could do to enhance the experience in the future.
The brunette grabbed a chair and smashed it into the blonde’s head. She stumbled back, arms flailing. When she fell, she landed wrong and something in her neck snapped.
She wasn’t dead yet, but she soon would be.
He briefly considered draining her blood himself, but he preferred his meals to have a little more life in them. The blonde was of no use to him now.
He turned to the woman who’d bested her. “We eat what we kill around here.”
The brunette’s face paled as she realized what he was demanding of her. “I will feed her to your loyal servants.”
“No. You will drink her blood and then I will feed you to them.” He sent a compulsion to her, forcing her obedience. “Now.”
The woman sobbed as she bent over the blonde. Krag watched her struggle with her human nature for a moment before it became boring.
He closed his eyes and reached out to Hacksaw. The man was good with a gun, but there was no guarantee it would be enough. He wanted the blooded woman. He was tired of waiting.
Krag sent a mental missive to a pack of Handlers he controlled. Touching their minds made him break out into a sweat, but he’d managed to give them his orders. Their excitement to be of service was unsettling in its enthusiasm. At least he knew they’d be thorough and his orders had been clear: Find anyone associated with the blooded woman and burn them alive. Once she had no place to go, flushing her out of hiding would be much easier.
Hope was freezing from the inside out. Jodi was gone and it was her fault. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to cause it, but she knew that it had something to do with the black void of her forgotten past.
The auras of the men in front of her and those in the surrounding cars were too bright. They stung her eyes, nauseating her with their chaotic swirls of color. She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of air sliding in and out of her lungs.
Too much had happened in the past few days, and she feared she wasn’t strong enough to handle it. Not that she had any choice. This was her mess. Her responsibility. She had to find a way to fix things before it was too late.
Jodi.
She willed her friend to hang on and prayed that the merciful God Sister Olive had told her so much about would keep Jodi safe.
The reason for all of this was inside her somewhere, in her past. She’d done something bad or angered someone along the way, and now they were taking their revenge. She had to break through that mental wall and figure out what had caused this before anyone else was hurt.
Logan was speaking quiet directions to Nicholas in the front seat. Hope kept her eyes closed and let the low sound of his voice calm her nerves. There was something about him that called to her, pushing her to try to get closer no matter how much he shoved her away.
She knew her actions were destined to cause her heartbreak, but she felt out of control and unable to stop herself from careening toward the inevitable.
For the moment, she needed to do whatever was within her control, and that meant finding a way to uncover the source of this pain she was causing others. If she knew what she’d done to make this happen, maybe she could find a way to make up for it.
She moved back through her memories to the night they stopped. The first conscious thought she had was of being cold. Confusion set in swiftly and she wondered why she was there, in the dark, alone and naked.
Fear swiftly overcame the cold and confusion and she huddled, hugging herself in a futile effort to offer herself comfort. The lump in her palm drew her attention and she looked down and read the name on the wooden amulet.
She could read, which meant she’d been educated. She spoke English, though Sister Olive had commented on her strange accent early on.
Hope had rid herself of it, not wanting anything to draw attention to how different she was from others. It had been almost a year before she’d realized that other people didn’t see auras the way she did. She’d mistakenly referred to the strange color surrounding a small child once and his mother had looked at her like she was insane.
Her research had revealed that others saw auras, but she’d never once had the courage to share that she did as well. Not even with one of them.
Hope pressed up against the spot where her past disappeared. She prodded at it, forcing herself to envision different scenarios, hoping one of them would feel right and click into place.