It was so fucking unfair that Logan wanted to howl. To have the ability to heal his ally but not the strength made him furious—made him want to lash out and drain every blooded human he could find. Take their power and leave their corpses to rot. Why should he even care anymore what happened to the humans?
Thomas’s wide shoulders blocked out the overhead light, forcing Logan to look up. This was the part he hated most—admitting his weakness, crushing Drake’s friends with the weight of grief. Living with that weight himself.
“How bad is it?” asked Thomas, his deep voice thick with rage.
Logan just shook his head. “I can ease his pain. It won’t last long.”
“No,” said Helen. Her voice was thin and high and breathless. Almost panicked. “He’s not going to die.”
Denial. It always happened and Logan hated every fucking second of it. “I’m sorry, Helen.”
“You don’t understand. He can’t die. He has to watch me die.”
Logan had no idea what she was talking about, but something in her words tugged at a memory.
“We don’t have time for this now,” said Thomas. “We have to get out of here.”
Logan picked up Drake’s heavy body, being careful to avoid getting cut by Drake’s sword. The flames had seared his fist closed, locking the weapon in his grip. Thomas took Helen by the arm. Behind them, Helen’s house was swiftly being engulfed by flames. Thankfully, she was too worried over Drake to really notice. A small favor.
Sirens screamed in the distance. The human authorities were coming. It was time to go.
They laid Drake in the back of the van on a clean white blanket. He didn’t even groan. The stench of burning flesh stung Logan’s nose and made his empty stomach twist with nausea.
Helen scrambled in behind him and reached for Drake, but Logan stopped her. “Don’t touch him. He has enough pain as it is.”
Helen swallowed hard and nodded. Tears welled up and slid down her dirty cheek.
♥
Chapter 6
The van swayed as it turned a corner, knocking Helen’s head against the metal wall. “Careful,” said Logan. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
Helen didn’t even feel the impact. She was numb. Overloaded. She couldn’t take this all in. The monsters, her house burning down. Again. Drake’s horrible burns. It was all too much and something inside her had just shut down. She felt as if she were moving through cotton, every motion slow, never really feeling anything. The only thing that stood out among all the fuzziness was her certainty that Drake would live. She held on to that, knowing it was the only thing keeping her going right now. And she had to keep going. Miss Mabel still needed her to focus, to get her home safely.
“Will they be able to help him at the hospital?” she asked Logan.
His skin had lost all its color and he looked gaunter than before. He was still beautiful, but there was a fragileness about him now that hadn’t been there before. He looked tired. Frail. Even his voice sounded weak. “We’re not going to a hospital.”
“We have to. He needs help.”
“They can’t help him, Helen. Thomas knows where to go.”
Helen thought about arguing, but bit her tongue. She was out of her league here. She was floundering around trying to figure out what was happening to her normal, tidy world. Nothing was the same anymore and likely never would be again.
“How’s it going back there?” asked Thomas. He was driving the van a little too fast, but his big hands held control of the wheel without effort.
“Not great. How much longer?” asked Logan.
“We’ll be off the highway in five minutes. It’s another fifteen to the house. I’ve put in a call for help and we should have some Gerai showing up within the hour.”
“He’s not going to last that long,” said Logan. His voice was even, but there was a mask of anger on his face that he didn’t bother to hide from her.
“What’s a Gerai?” asked Helen. “Medicine? A doctor?”
Logan pressed his elegant hand against Drake’s brow. The side of his face was burned beyond recognition, and if he did survive, the scars would be horrific.
Which didn’t synch up with her vision at all. For the first time in her life, Helen was beginning to doubt that the vision was real. She wanted to be relieved by that hope, but not if it meant that Drake was going to suffer. She just wished she’d known what he’d been doing when he knocked her down. She would have stopped him. She wasn’t sure how, but maybe she could have found a way.
“No,” replied Logan. “A Gerai is a special kind of person who can donate blood to help Drake. Though I’m not sure that even that will help at this point.”
“I’ll donate if it will help. How can I tell if I’m one of these Gerai?”
Logan looked up at her, and something frightening flashed through those silvery blue eyes. For a second, he no longer looked beautiful. He looked deadly. Hungry.
The look was gone so quickly, she almost convinced herself she’d imagined it. Almost.
Logan shot a furtive glance toward Thomas, then down at Drake, as if he was checking to see whether anyone was watching him. He spoke in a low whisper that was barely loud enough to hear over the sound of the van. “You would share your blood?”
“Will it help?”
“Absolutely.”
“How?”
“I am able to use the power in your blood to heal.”