Tynan had nothing to look forward to but the oblivion of sleep—a means to escape his hunger. Somewhere along the way, Angus had forgotten what it felt like to be as desperate as Tynan was. Or maybe he’d never been that desperate. His life had been hard, but it had also been filled with blessings.
It was time to step up and give back some of the good life had offered him.
One way or another, he needed to convince Gilda to give up her grief and move on. Maybe in doing so, she’d be able to heal and forgive herself for the things which she couldn’t change.
Maybe Gilda would even remember how to smile again.
Zach woke up just before dawn. His body ached, but he was no longer plagued by the blazing heat of the poison.
He was going to live.
A surge of joy rolled through him, and he felt the need to run and find Lexi so he could celebrate with her. Only, he didn’t have far to go. She was lying on the bed, asleep with her head pillowed on an open book and her pale hand splayed over his dark chest.
Zach grinned down at her, letting the sight of her beauty fill him up with a deep sense of satisfaction.
She hadn’t left him. She’d stayed right by his side even though he’d taken the bracelet off her wrist, allowing her to leave.
He had no idea how much sleep she’d gotten last night, so he didn’t want to wake her, but she didn’t look comfortable, so he eased the book out from under her cheek and tucked a pillow in its place.
Lexi made cute, sleepy sounds, but didn’t wake. He covered her up and went to find some coffee to help clear the rest of the sluggishness from his head that the poison had left behind.
They had a big day ahead of them. With any luck at all, today was the day Lexi would agree to wear his luceria. After all, she hadn’t left him. That had to mean she cared about him, right? And if she cared, she wouldn’t leave him alone to suffer. He knew she wouldn’t.
Zach set the book down on the kitchen counter, marking her place by setting the napkin holder on the open pages. He rummaged around in the cabinets until he had a pot of coffee gurgling on the counter, then went to the bathroom, took a quick shower, dressed and came back just as the last few drops were making ripples over the dark surface of the coffee.
He poured a cup, added a ton of sugar and sat down to enjoy his jolt.
The book was still open to the page Lexi had been reading when she fell asleep. It was handwritten, in tight, almost minuscule handwriting, so small he’d thought it was type when he’d first glanced at it. When he looked closer, he saw certain words were underlined, or boxed in. Frantic scribbles filled the margins, with arrows pointing to different passages.
He wasn’t generally one to snoop, but if this was Lexi’s diary, he wasn’t going to be able to resist. He’d be able to peek into her mind as soon as they bonded, so it wasn’t really snooping, anyway. It was just getting a jump on what he was going to see soon.
Zach started reading the entry, which was near the beginning of the book. It was dated twenty-three years ago.
They almost found us today. I hid us in a trash bin and the stink of rotting garbage masked our scent. Your scent, Alexandra. That sweet baby smell of your head that seems to draw the monsters to us.
You were such a good baby, too. You didn’t cry. You just held on to my finger in your chubby fist like you knew the monsters were scaring me. How can you know that? You’re not even a year old yet.
You’re special, Alexandra. Your daddy told me you would be the night we made you. He said I had to protect you. Hide you.
If anything happens to me, you need to know that the Sentinels are going to want you for your blood. You can’t ever stop running. They’ll find you and they’ll trick you and then, when they’ve convinced you they’re not the bad guys, they’ll suck out all your blood for their magic.
You can’t ever let that happen. You have to keep running.
Zach’s body went numb. Lexi would have been too young to write twenty-three years ago. She would have just been a baby. This wasn’t Lexi’s diary.
This was her mother’s diary. Alexandra was Lexi.
It was no wonder that Lexi didn’t trust him, that she’d stabbed him and run away when he’d first met her. She had been taught that the Sentinels wanted to kill her—that they wanted her blood.
Which, he had to admit, was partially true. The Sanguinar would want her blood, not that he’d let them have any of it. And even if they did get it, they wouldn’t want to kill her. She couldn’t feed them if she was dead.
Zach flipped the page and kept reading. It was more of the same. Page after page described how evil the Sentinels were and how many times they’d tried to kill Lexi and her mother. The book went into detail about what the monsters looked like and how to avoid them. Zach recognized the descriptions as Synestryn, not Sentinels. Of course, Lexi didn’t necessarily know the difference.
She thought the Synestryn that had attacked them last night had been his pets. She didn’t know any better, which begged the question, what else had she been taught that was totally wrong?
Zach shut the book and rose from his chair. Anger pulsed through him that her mother would taint her with lies like these, but he held it in check. He had no way of knowing why her mother had done it, and more important, the woman had kept Lexi alive all these years, protecting her when he couldn’t.
Lexi didn’t need his anger. She needed him to straighten her out. As long as she had all these messed-up ideas in her head, she was going to be in danger, running from the only people who could keep her safe.
He turned, and she was standing in the kitchen doorway. Her eyes were puffy from sleep and her clothes were wrinkled beyond repair. The hair around her face was damp, like she’d just finished washing. She looked from him, to the book and back again and in that time, all the color drained from her face. Her dark eyes widened in fear and she sprinted toward the door leading outside.