How could he explain what he was feeling to her without looking like a needy bastard? He sure as hell didn’t want to tell her that he’d die without her. No one should have to live with pressure like that. He didn’t want to be a burden. If she was going to stay with him, he wanted it to be for a real reason. Not guilt. “Maybe later. I think we should see what we can do for Nika, first.”
Andra nodded. “Okay. Rain check, then.”
“Sure.”
He saw her shift gears from him to Nika. That familiar look of guilty concern he’d come to recognize filled her eyes, and she glanced back over her shoulder to where Nika lay. “What do we do?” she asked him.
“I wish I knew for sure. I don’t know what’s wrong with her, so we’ll have to play it by ear. Go slow and easy.”
“Is there a chance I could hurt her?”
He couldn’t lie to her. “Yes. But at this point, what are your options? What are hers?”
“You said there were people at your home who might be able to help her, right?” Her voice shook with insecurity.
Paul ignored his own problems. He’d worry about those later. Right now, Andra needed him.
He took her hand and a subtle rush of warmth flowed between their fingers. It would be so easy to focus on the physical and ignore the problems around them, but that wasn’t going to solve anything.
“The Sanguinar—the men like Logan—are our healers. They might be able to help if we can get her to the point where she can give them her blood.”
“I don’t know if she’ll go for that, but we can try.”
“They can make it painless for her. Take her blood while she sleeps and make sure she never knows.”
“That’s a little creepy, don’t you think? How do you know it’s never happened to you?”
Paul had lived with it for so long, it didn’t bother him anymore. “I don’t. I just choose not to worry about it. As long as we’re there, she’d be safe. I’d never allow anyone to hurt her any more than you would. But that’s not our only option. Even if the Sanguinar can’t help her, Sibyl may know what can.”
“Who’s Sibyl?”
“She’s a seer. She knows things that no one else does. She might be able to see what we need to do to heal Nika. There are magical artifacts roaming around the world that can do amazing things. She may know of one that could help and tell us where to find it.”
“So there’s hope,” said Andra, grasping his hand tight.
Paul slid his finger along her cheek, reveling in the smoothness of her skin. “There’s lots of hope.”
“If there are all of these people who can help, maybe I shouldn’t mess with her. I could make things worse. We should just take her to your home, where people know what they’re doing.”
“Have some faith in yourself. You know Nika. You love her. You’re not going to do anything to hurt her. Besides, Logan said she was too weak to travel.” He didn’t want to tell her that he’d feared she was already dead when he walked into the room. There was no guarantee she’d even live through the night.
Andra looked into his eyes, silently pleading with him to help. “I don’t know what to do, Paul. I don’t know how to help her.”
“It’s okay. I’ll show you.”
Chapter 16
Nika didn’t even move when Andra slid into bed next to her. Her skinny frame dipped with the mattress under Andra’s weight, but she didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. Andra pressed her hand to Nika’s head. She was cool to the touch. The pulse fluttering in her neck was faint and unsteady.
“We’ll do it like we did before, remember?” asked Paul. “Just open yourself up and let me guide you. We’re just going to go look around first.”
Andra nodded. Paul’s hand slid around to the nape of her neck, his ring locking with her necklace. She felt the band around her throat warm. Her breathing sped up, and a fizzing kind of pressure built inside her. Her head started to throb and her stomach gave a queasy twist.
“You’re fighting it,” he said.
“I don’t mean to.” She tried to relax, but her jaw clenched against the pain and nausea. She wasn’t going to be able to do this. It was going to be like losing Tori all over again. She was going to just stand there and watch while her sister slipped away and—
“Stop it,” growled Paul. “That’s not going to happen. Focus.”
Andra pulled in a deep breath and tried to do as he said. The pressure built until sweat broke out over her skin and she was shaking with the force of it.
Still nothing happened.
Andra opened her eyes and looked at Nika’s small body. She was so weak. Helpless. Her mind was a writhing mass of madness and images too horrible to be real. That night had destroyed her. Maybe it was the trauma, or maybe it was some kind of infection from the monster’s yellow saliva. It had licked her wound, lapping up the blood. Something could have gotten into her body and infected her with this illness. Maybe she needed a magical antibiotic.
The pressure inside Andra released suddenly, as if a bubble had popped. She let out the breath she’d been holding, and when she looked up, she was no longer in the bedroom with Nika. She was somewhere dark.
She could hear the steady drip of water echoing off hard walls, smell the musty dampness in the air. It was cold here—the kind of cold that seeped into your blood and stole away your will to move.
“You shouldn’t be here,” said Nika. She appeared near a rock wall, her image shimmering and translucent, like some kind of hologram. She was younger, maybe sixteen, and her hair was dark and wavy, like it had been before the night Mom and Tori died. She wore a black dress, and although she was thin, she wasn’t skinny.
“Where is here?” asked Andra, looking around. It was a cave of some kind, but not those pretty ones with the glistening formations. This was an oppressive black hole deep in the ground.
“Shh,” whispered Nika. “They’ll hear you. You have to leave.”
“I can’t. I need to help you.”