Falling Blind: The Sentinel Wars (32 page)

“Why not? I do it all the time. Just another day at the office.”

“Yeah, if your office is filled with poisonous teeth and claws.”

He shoved the keys in his pocket and zipped up his jacket. “I should have left you a note. Just pretend that’s what I did.”

He started to walk away, but she grabbed his arm. “Really? That’s how it’s going to be?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. You’re mad at me, so you’re going to punish me by making me worry.”

His brows drew together, and she swore she felt his arm vibrate with anger under the leather. “You’ve seen me, Rory. All the way through. You know me. Do you really think I’m that petty?”

“I wouldn’t have thought so until right now, seeing you ready to go.”

His eye twitched. “I could have left without saying good-bye.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened to me. I’m a big girl. I can deal.” She pretended like it didn’t hurt that he was going to walk away. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’d hit the mark.

Rory turned her back and went to pick up her clothes. He’d gathered them from where she’d tossed them through the house and laid them on the bed. It was a thoughtful thing for a man to do when he was otherwise trying to hurt her.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he said, his voice dipping low.

She tugged at the luceria, cursing its existence. “Stupid fucking necklace.”

“Would you rather I go and find the person who can make it fall from your throat?” he asked.

Rory sagged onto the bed, gripping her clothes against her chest. There was too much going on inside of her—too many emotions, too much stress. “What I want hardly seems to matter.”

He stepped closer, his big, booted feet coming into view. “It matters to me.”

“Does it?” She tipped her head back to look him in the eye. “You keep pushing me to be like those women in your memories, but I’m not like them.”

“I know that now. I won’t make that same mistake again.”

“So where does that leave me? I still have a demon trapped in my brain, and a magical necklace trapped around my throat. If I take it off, you die.”

“Eventually. The colors in the luceria have not yet solidified. We still have time.”

“You forget that you threw yourself wide open to me. I know how slim the chances are that you’ll find another woman compatible with your power before your soul dies. I’m not the kind of person who can walk away from that.”

“I don’t want or need your pity.”

Her voice lifted in frustration. “It’s not pity. It’s human fucking decency.”

“You’re not human.” His face was impassive. He’d blocked off the link between them, giving her no idea how he felt.

Until now, she hadn’t realized just how easily she’d come to accept that connection to him as a kind of additional sense, something she took for granted, like her sight. Now that the connection was gone, she felt . . . lonely.

“You know what I mean,” she said.

“Apparently not. You’re the one who wants to walk away from our partnership. You asked for space, and now that I’m trying to give it to you, you’re angry. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

She had no answers. The things she wanted were not things he could give her. She wanted guarantees—a promise that he wouldn’t die and leave her floundering the way she had when Mom had died, when Nana had died. She couldn’t go through that again.

But she couldn’t stand to let him walk away either, knowing that he would be so much safer with her at his side—with her power there to take out anything that tried to hurt him. She wasn’t very strong yet, but she was stronger now than she had been a few hours ago. The time she’d spent in his arms had somehow widened their connection, allowing the space for more energy to flow through. She could feel it humming there, churning with anticipation for her to make use of it.

Strength hovered at her fingertips, making her crave it. She was tired of being a victim, tired of being scared to get so much as a paper cut. Cain made her stronger and gave her a fighting chance. She was pretty sure that was the best deal she was going to get in this lifetime.

“Take me with you,” she said. “Show me how to fight.”

He stared at her for a long time, and she wished he would let her take a peek behind the curtain, just for a second. She didn’t like being on the outside like this—like everyone else—alone and wondering what was going on in his head.

Finally, without any hint of how he felt, he said, “Get dressed. I won’t wait long.”

Chapter 22

C
ain knew that he was manipulating Rory, and that it was wrong, but he couldn’t make himself stop. He knew how much she hated feeling weak. Her strength and independence meant everything to her, and yet here he was, tempting her with one in order to rob her of the other.

He tried to assuage his guilt by telling himself that it was his duty to keep fighting, and he could only continue to do so if Rory stayed at his side. But while factually correct, his efforts to tie her to him were still a type of deception. And if he let down his guard and allowed her to peer into his thoughts, she would see it, glaring with guilt.

So he did the only thing he could think to do: he kept his mind closed to her and took her outside, in the field behind the Gerai house.

“What are we doing?” she asked.

“You said you wanted to learn how to fight.”

“I do, but I need a real fight—nothing huge or overwhelming, but more than an evil clump of weeds.”

“You really think I’m going to purposefully drag you into battle when you’ve barely learned anything? It’s bad enough that you were subjected to it accidentally.”

“I’ll learn on the fly. I think fast on my feet. I never would have survived two days locked in a basement full of monsters if that weren’t the case.”

He couldn’t stop the growl that emanated from his chest at the picture she painted.

“It’s no big deal. Not my idea of a primo vacation spot or anything, but let’s just say that it proved to me that I’m at my best when the shit hits the fan.”

“I’d rather not prove your theory wrong the hard way.”

She let out a weary sigh. “So you’re not taking me to really fight. I’m stuck with defeating evil weeds?”

“For now. When I’m sure you’re ready, then we’ll move up the food chain. Maybe defeat a malevolent bush.”

“And just hope that the demon-in-the-box stays put.” She propped her hand on her hip, bringing his attention to the deep curve of her waist.

Cain knew just how that skin felt under his hand, against his tongue. His mouth watered with the memory, making him wish he could march her back up to bed and keep her there for a year or two.

“I will kill the demon, but you’re not ready for that kind of fight. Not yet.”

“And what if we run out of time?”

“Then I will subdue you.”

“Before I managed to kill you first with my magical firepower?”

He shrugged, refusing to let her see how much he hated letting that creature linger within her. “If you kill me, you’ll have no more power. You’ll be as much of a threat as any normal human woman would be.”

“Clearly, you’ve never heard of PMS or you’d be more afraid.”

“I’m not taking you into combat until you prove you’re ready.”

“Fine. Test me.”

Before she had time to sense what he was doing, Cain drew his sword and sent it swinging toward her head. He had no intention of hurting her, but she wouldn’t know that. Just before he slowed the blow, a hot blue dome of light spilled down over her body. His sword skittered off the shield, throwing him off balance.

“Good.”

She grinned, and her dark eyes twinkled with excitement. “Easy. Try again.”

He kicked his leg out, sweeping her ankles. She began to fall, but it turned into a gravity-defying spin that landed her on her feet a few yards away.

Cain nodded his approval. “Your self-defense is decent, but there’s only so much I can do to you without risking damage. What I really need to know is how much firepower you have.”

“Give me something to destroy. A target—any target.”

He pointed toward the eastern edge of the clearing to where a dead tree leaned precariously to one side. “There. That tree.”

She pushed her chin in the air and started walking toward it. Cain grabbed her arm.

“No. From here.”

Her confident posture wobbled, but her jaw took on a defiant stance. “If I do it, will you take me with you to go hunt the demon?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether or not you’re still standing. You’re no good in a fight if I have to carry you.”

She pulled her arm away and gave him a hard stare. “No one has needed to carry me since I was a child. At least not until the night I met you.”

“Are you saying I made you weak?” Cain sent a bubble of energy through the luceria, reminding her that without him, she would have no power.

She shivered, but hid it quickly. Once again her jaw was tight with defiance, forcing her words through gritted teeth. “I’m not weak.”

“Prove it.”

He felt a sucking rush of power flow out of him with so much force it shook his frame. As the transfer occurred, a flicker of her emotions appeared, churning just beyond reach. She was furious that he doubted her. Terrified that she would fail. Determined to prove her strength.

A ragged scream poured from her mouth. Her fingers extended toward the tree as if she were throwing something at it. A second later, a whoosh of flames engulfed the trunk, turning it to ash within seconds.

Rory fell to her knees. Cain panicked and reached for her, but she jerked away. “Don’t.”

She panted there on the cold ground, holding herself up with her hands. Her body swayed, and it was all he could do not to reach out and steady her.

Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet. She stumbled to the side, but caught her balance before he was forced to grab her.

Her feet were braced apart. Her skin was ghostly pale. Both of her hands burned bright red with smudges of soot at the tips. She glared at him, daring him to make the wrong move.

“There,” she said. “Now let’s go.”

Cain hated himself for what he was about to do, but if she refused to acknowledge her limits, then it was his duty to force her to hit them. Hard.

“Sure,” he said. “Let’s get in the car.”

He started walking, and it took every bit of willpower he possessed not to turn around and help. He was halfway back to the house when he heard her hit the ground.

Cain stopped. He knew he should keep walking and prove to her that she wasn’t as tough as she thought, but he couldn’t leave her lying there or force her to crawl like some kind of beast. She needed him, and whether or not she accepted that fact, it was still a fact. Just like he needed her.

He turned and saw her trying to regain her feet. Her pink hair whipped around her face with the wind, giving him fleeting glimpses of her pained defeat.

He stopped in front of her. She stared at his boots, her arms shaking so hard he wasn’t sure how she held herself up. She wouldn’t lift her gaze any higher, as if she was embarrassed.

Cain crouched by her side, and tucked her hair behind her ear to keep it out of her eyes. Tears glittered there but did not fall—apparently held back by sheer will. Her bottom lip was wedged between her teeth so tightly he feared she’d draw blood.

He said nothing as he waited there, warring with himself over whether or not to touch her. The next move was hers, and it was not one he could make for her.

“Fire is hard,” she finally said.

“Looks like.”

“I really suck at this, don’t I?”

“Is that what you think?”

“I saw those women in your memories. I saw what they can do. They could go all day and hardly break a sweat. I burn down one dead tree and I’m about to fall over.”

“So what do you want to do now?”

“You think I should quit, don’t you?” Her voice was as cold and biting as the wind. “You think I should just sit around and wait for the big, manly men to save me.”

“You know me. You’ve been inside my thoughts. Is that really what you think I think?”

Her gaze met his, and he saw fear lurking there. And shame. “No,” she admitted. “I saw the things you want from me.”

“And?”

“They’re not the kind of things a weakling princess in need of a rescue would do.”

“Which brings us back to my previous question. What do you want to do now?”

She bared her teeth at him, and damn if it didn’t turn him on, just a little. “I want to be strong enough to fight, Cain. I want to get up off this freezing fucking ground and blow the hell out of some demons.”

He stood. “So get up.”

“Don’t you think I would if I was able?”

“You are able. You just can’t do it alone. Ask for my help.”

“Fuck you.”

He shrugged, and pulled a muscle trying to make it look nonchalant when every instinct inside of him was screaming for him to act. He didn’t like her down there, looking weak and helpless. He knew she had to be cold, and that grated against every instinct he had to care for her well-being. But this was important. If she refused to lean on him, it would get her killed.

His voice was as rough as frozen gravel. “Fine. Stay there.”

“You’re really going to make me ask?”

“I’ve helped you before without you having to ask, but I need to know if you’re even capable of asking.”

“I don’t need you,” she growled. “I don’t need anyone.”

He ached for her and everything she’d lost. His own losses had made him angry as well, but he hadn’t given up on others. Not like she had. Rory was so alone in this world—so alone she couldn’t even see any other way to be.

“Everyone needs someone. There’s no shame in that,” he told her.

“Says the man standing on his own two feet.”

“Only because of your quick thinking back at your house. If those demons hadn’t had your shield to slow them down, we’d all be dead.”

“Or worse,” she said, shivering in revulsion.

“Or worse,” he agreed.

“So you owe me?”

“If you want to keep score.”

She was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke, her voice was so faint the wind nearly stole it from him. “I’m cashing in, then. Help me up.”