Logan froze Drake’s progress across the tile floor and concentrated on Helen. He reached deeper into her mind, searching for the source of that fear, seeking out some thin tendril of it that he could follow backward in time until he reached the origin.
Her mind was cluttered with worry, fear. She was terrified of fire. She’d lived through two house fires and had lost her mother to the first one. He saw the faces of many elderly humans—some who were dying, some already dead. Those who remained were the center of many of her worries, but there was one worry that didn’t fit. One that went deeper, that veered away from those faces.
He followed it, letting his mind snake along the path, watching the movie of her life replaying backward at lightning speed. He saw her grow younger, felt knowledge slip away from her. She lost the ability to do simple math, the ability to read, the ability to speak, and yet the tendril continued.
She was tiny now, unable to even roll over in her crib. The world looked huge through her eyes, and the center of it was a woman’s face. Her mother.
Logan stopped, unwilling to go back any further. He had no idea where this tendril would lead, but nothing he saw through her memories now would mean anything. There would be no frame of reference for her to understand what was happening, which meant he wouldn’t either. She had no worldly experience and wouldn’t be able to interpret anything into information he could use.
With a thought, Logan was back in Gertie’s Diner. He let time roll forward, watching Drake’s seemingly unavoidable attraction to Helen. He felt Drake’s desire for her—something beyond mere sex. He wanted something from her even he didn’t understand.
Logan still felt Helen’s fear, but lacing with it was something new. Something pleasurable. Drake was sending streams of power into her without even realizing he was doing it. Usually, releasing power was impossible for the Theronai once it was stored within them. That’s why they all suffered as they aged.They were like walking batteries, storing more and more energy until it killed them, consuming them from the inside out. The only outlet was through their luceria—the necklace and ring combination they wore. Before most of the female Theronai had been slaughtered, each one would choose a man as her partner in battle. She would take his luceria and wear it, linking them together. The necklace served as a conduit, channeling the male’s power into her where she could use it to destroy the Synestryn. A bonded pair of Theronai was a humbling sight to behold.
Logan had never seen anything quite like this power transfer before. Even if Drake could funnel off some of his power into Helen, doing so would have injured or possibly killed any human woman. This was supposed to be impossible.
Obviously that assumption had been wrong, because there was no mistaking what was happening. He could feel it happen from both Drake’s and Helen’s points of view. She was absorbing his power and she certainly wasn’t dead. In fact, she was enjoying it.
Logan felt the spark of a theory forming, but it seemed too ridiculous to even consider. He needed more information.
He moved the memories forward, saw Drake all but kiss Helen, both of them enthralled by their connection. The older lady hit Drake with her walker, which made Logan smile. Something was happening between Zach and a little blond woman, but there wasn’t enough information from either of their memories to put together what it was. Drake grabbed Helen. She fought back and finally freed herself. Drake collapsed in pain and Logan quickly pulled away from the sensation before it could overwhelm him. Logan tuned the pain out and concentrated on Helen. Drake was nearly unconscious and Logan needed her eyes.
He waited until she turned around to look at Drake and stopped the image there. Helen was frantic, worried for someone named Lexi and the old woman—Miss Mabel. He brushed past her fear, trying only to see what she saw without the taint of emotion.
Logan studied Drake through her eyes. He was frozen in a painful convulsion, his body arching up off the floor. Curls of smoke rose up from his hand and neck where he wore both parts of the luceria.
Logan squinted at the image, trying to figure out what was bothering him about it. Besides the obvious smoking flesh.
Then he saw it. Just barely. Helen didn’t know what his luceria was supposed to look like and Logan never paid attention to colors in memories because so many people saw them differently. Because of that, he nearly missed the subtle difference. Instead of being a silvery, iridescent band, the luceria was a mixture of reds and yellows.
The only time a luceria changed color was when it came in contact with a female Theronai.
Helen? No way. She couldn’t be. Nearly all their women had been killed more than a hundred years before she was born, and those who remained were carefully guarded. The notion that one could be walking around unprotected seemed ludicrous.
Logan was stunned to stillness for a moment before he managed to pull himself together. If it was true and Helen was a Theronai, then he had to have proof. He needed her blood.
No way was Drake going to let that happen. Logan knew all too well how protective the Theronai were of their women. Even if Drake didn’t know she was a Theronai, his instincts would still be there—guard and protect, his life for hers.
Logan was going to have to find a way to separate them and not just so Drake could have both hands free for his sword. He needed to get Helen alone because that was the only shot he’d have to get a taste of her blood.
Helen stared at the soothing blue wall in front of her, trying to shed the sickening disorientation that spun in her head. Whatever Logan had done to her, she did not want him to do it ever again.
“How do you feel?” asked Logan, looking at Helen with those too-pretty silvery blue eyes that almost seemed to glow.
She closed her eyes, trying to block out the light in hopes that it would help her spinning head. “Like I just got off one too many roller-coaster rides.”
“That will pass in a moment. And you, Drake?”
“I’m fine,” he said, but it sounded like a lie, making her think he probably felt about as bad as she did. “Did you figure out what’s going on?”
“Perhaps.”
Helen felt Drake’s fingers tighten on her wrist for a moment. “Vague answers are a really unhealthy idea for you right now. Cut the mysterious shit and tell me what’s going on.”
“I have a theory, but that’s all. Whatever it is that’s going on between you, this is the first time I’ve ever encountered it.”
She heard Drake’s irritated sigh and slanted a narrow glance at him. She really wished she hadn’t turned on quite so many lights now. The brightness was killing her.
“Turn out the lights,” Drake told Logan as if reading her mind. Then again, maybe his head was feeling the same way.