Undying Hope (23 page)

He grabbed a towel and pressed it to the wound, but there was no way of telling how much blood she’d lost because of all the water. “Wolf!”

Without being commanded, the
treòir
stretched out to stem the flow of her blood. He went deep inside of her, reaching for her heartbeat and breathing. They were there, but far too weak.

“No, no, no!” He let out an anguished roar, shaking the entire building as the ground beneath quaked. “You are not leaving me this easily.” Without thought or hesitation, he lifted her wrist to his mouth and took in her blood, as much as he needed for his body to process before he gave her any of his. He didn’t care how much pain she’d be in, she was going to live so he could throttle her himself. He pulled his buck knife and slashed open his own wrist and then pressed it to her mouth, his other hand cupping the back of her head, lifting her up to make it easier for her to drink.

He had to help her ingest the blood. She wasn’t getting strong enough on her own, though he was able to feel her desire to stay alive. He touched her arm to seal the wound, healing it enough so she wouldn’t die. Later, Riordan could fix the damage she’d done to herself. He forced her to keep drinking, and when he would have stopped, the power of his
treòir
took hold and kept her drinking a few drops more. Her eyes flew open, and the scream that tore from her ripped through Donovan. Her body convulsed and bounced off the tile floor. He curled around her. There was no turning back.

Her body jerked and twitched as if she was having a grand mal seizure. He cradled her head against his chest so she wouldn’t hurt herself. A slow burn spread through her body and flared into a searing heat. She let out scream after ragged scream, and Donovan held onto her, body, mind, and soul. He was not going to lose her. He absorbed as much of her pain as he could, trying to make the conversion bearable. He didn’t know how, but he dragged them both to the tub and pulled her in with him, hoping the now cold water would ease some of the pain. An eternity passed as he kept himself locked around her, feeling everything she was, enduring the pain with her. He couldn’t do anything less when he was the one who’d caused it. He was still breathing for her, his heart beating with hers.

Then everything stopped—the fire, the muscles spasms—there was nothing. If he hadn’t been controlling her vital functions himself, she would be dead. The grief tore across his soul. He would stay until she spent every ounce of his energy.

Then she wheezed in her own breath, and her heart jumped in her chest. Her body shuddered, and a blinding pain shot through her before she went limp against him. A vicious shiver rattled her teeth.

Wolf calmly walked over and turned off the water. The eerie glow of Wolf’s eyes dimly lit the bathroom. “Do you need help?”

It took several moments for Donovan to find his voice. “She’s freezing. We need to get her dry and warm.”

Donovan rose with her from the tub as quickly and as gently as he could. He peeled her wet clothes off and wrapped her in towels Wolf had gotten for him. He could feel the burn still in her body, but she was clinging to life. He would bear her pain for as long as she needed. He lifted her and took her into the bedroom before he laid her down. Wolf handed him another towel. Only then did he realize he was soaking wet. He stripped his sweat pants and wrapped the towel around him. He wrung as much water out of his hair as possible, and then got onto the bed with Haven. She was still shivering, and her muscles twitched occasionally. She was far too pale. “She needs more blood.”

Wolf nodded. “I’ll call Riordan. He’ll know what to do.”

“Thank you.” Donovan curled around Haven and pulled the blankets over both of them. She was alive, just barely, but he could throttle her himself now. He ran his hand through her wet hair and murmured to her in his ancient language. Mostly nonsense, but the words seemed to calm her. How was she dealing with this pain piercing through her? He didn’t know, but he was going to help her.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he’d never be able to keep his pact with Kyros now. Even without bonding, with Haven now Undying, her life was linked to his. Giving up his
treòir
would be handing her a death sentence. He shoved it out of his mind. Haven was his focus.

How could he have missed this? How could she have blocked something this huge from him?

Fear coiled around him. The
treòir
settled over them like a warm blanket. His home rattled as was typical of Memphis’s arrival, and then the penthouse began to fill with the presence of amassing
treòir
s. The other North American Cadfaels were arriving, and they were quickly followed by Donovan’s own Cadens. He curled tight around Haven as her body shivered. When he knew Wolf had enough power assembled to keep them safe, guilt slammed into him hard, gnawing at his gut. This was his fault, and there was nothing anyone could say or do to convince him otherwise.

* * * *

Donovan woke to a throbbing pain in his entire body. Haven rested peacefully, snuggled against his side. The image of her dying in the bathroom flashed through his mind, and he jerked away from her. He winced when her arm flopped against the mattress. With the greatest of care, he moved her arm to a more comfortable position and slipped out of the bed. He stared down at her. Haven. His beautiful Haven had tried to kill herself.

His jaw ticked. The power of the
treòir
seemed to swirl in the air around her. As long as Haven was unconscious, his power’s awareness would remain with her. He shook his head and, not caring he was an absolute mess, walked out of the bedroom. Someone had replaced the bathroom door. Possibly one of the men he could feel congregating on the first floor of the penthouse. He descended the stairs in a slow stalk. The heads of the strongest men on the planet turned to assess him.

All the Heartland Cadens were assembled. Memphis stood near the window, the air around him ionized in preparation to open a portal at a moment’s notice. Maverick leaned against the opposite wall, the only one who didn’t seemed affected by the events of the last twenty-four hours. His green gaze assessed Donovan, promising death if he spoke the wrong words.

Brody, the Hunter, wore an impassive expression, but Donovan knew him. There was a slight tension in the other man’s stance, belying his worry. Next to Brody was Brogan. The dragon showed in his eyes. Donovan’s brothers stood close to the staircase.

All six of his Cadens stood at attention when they saw him. Each one bowed his head in turn. Wolf was the first to step forward. “How is she?”

“Healing,” Donovan said. “Kyros?”

Brody stepped forward. “I’ve tracked him to a mansion the Black Rose uses as headquarters. Lazarus is with him.”

Donovan had figured Lazarus, Memphis’s twin brother, worked with Kyros. Brody was the only one here with the ability to cloak his power. He could get in with the humans and less powerful of magickind without notice and discover secrets. “Anything to report?”

“I’m sorry, my lord.” Brody’s body tensed. “Kyros is well guarded.”

Donovan nodded. “Wolf. Riordan. I need both of you here.” He shifted his gaze to Maverick. “I want you on the ground.”

Maverick gave a slight, respectful nod of his head. “Aye, my lord.”

“I will take the air,” Brogan said.

Donovan didn’t miss the excitement in the other man’s eyes. It wasn’t often he had the time to allow his dragon the freedom of flight. “Thank you.” His attention when to Memphis and Brody. “Keep an eye on Kyros until I work out a plan.”

They gave a nod.

“And Brody, keep a leash on Memphis.” Donovan trusted his Cadens with his life, and he knew them too well. He could not lose his Storm Warrior. Memphis and Lazarus were too evenly matched to foretell the outcome of a battle between the two.

“Of course,” Brody said. “Have you need of anything else?”

Riordan cleared his throat. “The usual.”

Half a smile cracked Memphis’s hard expression. “Aye.” He and Brody turned to go to the portal room.

Donovan let out a breath. Haven would need the magic of Riordan’s conversion soup—as the others liked to call it. Memphis could get the other realm ingredients.

Maverick and Brogan left for their posts, leaving Donovan alone with his brothers and their wolves.

Riordan moved up beside him. “You should go back to bed.”

Donovan snarled. “She tried to kill herself.”

“Use your head,” Wolf snapped. “She did no such thing.”

“No,” Donovan said in a tone leaving no room for argument. He didn’t want to contemplate any other reason Haven would have taken a knife to her own flesh.

When Haven awoke, she knew she was in Quinn’s bed. She expected all kinds of awful pain, but other than stiffness and a slight headache, there was nothing. She groaned and sat up. Nikon was next to her in the dimly lit room, and there was a tall, dark figure sitting next to the bed. The man wasn’t Quinn. Her voice came out in a croak. “Where is he?”

“He’s out. He’ll be back in a few hours.” Riordan leaned forward.

“Did it work?”

“You are Undying, and Quinn has not given up his power.” Riordan’s face was stern, and Haven winced at the reproach in his tone.

“Where is he?”

“He needed to take care of a few things.” Riordan’s tone went so soft Haven had to lean forward to hear him. “He didn’t want to be here when you woke up.”

“He didn’t?” She closed her eyes as a different kind of pain sliced through her. Well, what had she expected? For him to accept what happened and move on as if nothing changed? She willed back the worst of the heartache. “How long have I been out?”

“Two days. Quinn made sure you slept through the worst part.”

Of course he would. He was still Quinn, no matter how pissed off he was. With a sigh, she shoved back the blankets and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her arm refused to be helpful as she struggled to get herself into a standing position. She’d probably have very limited use of that arm for eternity, but she’d already accepted that. Nikon was next to her, guiding her into the bathroom. She stopped at the door and turned to Riordan. “I am going to get myself cleaned up and ready to leave, and then you are taking me to Quinn. I have to talk to him.”

“No, you still need to take it easy, and I still need to fix your arm.”

Her face twisted. “Don’t bother.”

Then she went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Taking a shower and preparing for her day took four times longer than it usually did without the use of her left arm. She promised herself that she would get adept at being normal. Her arm was worth Quinn’s life, no matter what anyone else said. When she came out of the bathroom an hour later, another fifteen minutes passed while she figured out how to get dressed, and the tying of shoelaces was impossible, so she settled for a pair of slip-ons instead.

Nikon went down the stairs with her, pressing her close to the wall to keep her steady. “At least I still have you,” she said quietly.

“You will always have me, young heart. My task has always been to protect his heart.”

Haven gave the wolf a peculiar look and then shook her head. “Have you eaten?”

“I am a wolf. I can go a few days without if I need to.”

“Nikon!” She crossed the dining room and went into the kitchen. She did her best to ignore Riordan and rebuffed his offers of help as she unpackaged the thawed meat and put it onto a plate to serve it to her wolf. She decided that Nikon was no longer Quinn’s, but hers. It had to be the reason he had two, because she needed her own. Then she warmed her own bowl of soup. She continued to ignore Riordan while she ate. When she began to rise to put the bowl into the sink, he stopped her and put a sling over her shoulder, settling her arm inside.

“If you are not going to let me fix it yet, then you should at least take care not to damage yourself more. Quinn is going to insist that I heal you.”

She sniffed. “He can insist all he wants, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to allow you to heal me. I can handle the consequences of my own actions.” But she did keep the sling on because it relieved the throbbing in her hand. Riordan arched a brow at her in a way strikingly similar to Quinn. She rolled her eyes. “Can I have Nadia’s phone number? I need to talk to Bastian.”

Riordan handed her his cell phone with the number displayed. She quickly memorized the number and then dialed.

“Memphis,” answered the quiet voice of the Storm Warrior.

“Can I talk to Bastian?”

“Of course.”

A moment later, Bastian’s anxious voice filled her ears. “Haven! Are you okay? I heard what happened. You survived.”

Her voice was soft. “Yes, Bastian, I did. Are you okay? You’ve been eating properly?”

He took the tone of a disgruntled teen. “Yes, Mom, I’m fine. I’ve been worried about you, though.”

She’d smiled when he called her “Mom,” but was glad he wasn’t there to see how upset she was. She was careful to keep her tone light. “I’ll come and see you in the next day or two. I miss you.”

They spent the next half hour on the phone. Haven deftly dodged his questions about exactly what had happened while she extracted every bit of information she could about how he was really doing. By the time the call ended, she was worried Bastian might try to do something rash, like sneak out of the house to come and see her. She sighed. After waiting a few minutes and then calling again, she gave Riordan his cell phone back “It’s been a few hours. Why isn’t Quinn back yet?”

“He’ll be here. Stop worrying.”

But she was worried. She’d ruined everything that had been between them with her one act, but she couldn’t have let him commit a slow suicide, not for any reason. She blew out a puff of air and absently buried her hand in Nikon’s soft fur, needing a small measure of comfort. “He’s angry.”

“Aye. What else did you expect? He believes you tried to end yourself. Wolf and I haven’t been able to convince him otherwise.”

She nodded and sank down onto the kitchen chair. “What is Kyros going to do now that Quinn hasn’t changed?”