Willing Sacrifice (16 page)

She gave him the same look she might give an errant child. “I’ve been protecting myself in these woods since before you came along and I will keep doing so long after you’ve gone. What I won’t do is leave a helpless, wounded man out here as bait for who knows what kind of creatures that might come along.”

“Helpless?” He forced himself to one foot, refusing to let her think of him like that. The move made his damaged knee throb, but it also eased his pride. “I’m far from helpless.”

“Good,” she said, then picked up a sturdy branch from the ground and tossed it at him. “Then carve this into some kind of crutch you can use.”

Torr caught the branch and nearly fell over when his balance went askew.

“Sit down. Elevate your leg. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“You sound like Brenya.”

She beamed. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment.”

She came to his side and grabbed his arm. “Then you should have chosen your words better. Now sit down.”

He wasn’t quite sure how she’d managed it, but he found himself on his ass, his leg elevated on the trunk of a fallen tree.

“I’ll be quick. Call out if you need me.”

He stared after her, trying to figure out what had just happened. His sweet, quiet Grace had just stepped up, completely taking over the situation. Just like he would have expected any female Theronai to do.

She’d always been insistent when she thought his safety was at stake, but there was something different about it this time. More confidence, more assertiveness. Her time here had changed her, and while it was going to make his life more difficult, he couldn’t help but enjoy it. Bossy or not, Grace had grown a stronger backbone. And it was sexy as hell.

She came back with her hands full of purple leaves, spindly roots and what looked like pale gray bark shavings. She shoved the ingredients into one of the water skins and gave it a good shake.

“Drink it all,” she ordered, handing it to him. “It’s going to taste like the bottom of a dirty foot, but you will drink it.”

With an order like that, what could he say but “Yes, ma’am.”

Torr drank. It tasted worse than she’d described, but he was blissfully distracted by the sight of Grace moving around the area, clearing space for a fire. The smooth efficiency of her efforts proved she’d done this before.

“Do you spend a lot of time in the woods?” he asked.

“I used to. Some of the women and I would go foraging for berries and herbs. It’s been too dangerous to do it lately.”

She pulled a small stone from a pouch and set it on a pile of dried grass, like an egg in a nest. With the end of a stick, she bashed the rock, and it exploded in a tiny ball of fire. After a few seconds, the fire grew to consume the smaller twigs she’d laid out. In no time, there was a tidy fire crackling away safely inside a ring of damp stones.

“How’s the knee?” she asked.

“Better,” he said, amazed by how well her concoction had worked. The deep, hot throbbing he’d felt before had faded. There was still pain, but it was a distant thing he had no trouble ignoring.

“You sound surprised.”

“Guess I am. Where I’m from, the healing is mostly done by the Sanguinar, and they always want to drink blood as payment.”

Her lip curled in disgust. “Eww. And here I was thinking it was time to eat.”

A swooping wave of dizziness spun his head around. “What was in that stuff?”

“Plants. Brenya taught me what to look for as soon as I was able to walk.” She smiled. “She said she wasn’t about to let me sit around and be a burden.”

“And remembering that makes you grin?”

“I
was
a burden. It took her ten times longer to do everything because she had to drag me around with her. Even longer to teach me what she knew. I was so slow, so weak. She never once lost patience, though. The fact that she said she wouldn’t let me be a burden made me feel like I wasn’t one.”

That crazy spinning sped up, and his eyelids got too heavy to hold open. “You could never be a burden to anyone, Grace.”

“There’s no possible way you could know that, but you’re sweet to say it, anyway.”

The water skin left his hand. He could smell her scent and knew she was nearby.

His words were a slurred mess. “You’re going to remember who you are soon. Remember everything.”
Remember me.

“Some things are best left forgotten, Torr. You need to learn to accept that. I have.”

•   •   •

It wasn’t fair to lie to a man who was too intoxicated to think straight, but it was for the best.

She wasn’t completely sure how long Torr would sleep, so she went to work right away. A few careful slices through the leg of his pants, and his swollen knee was free. The fabric had been so tight it had left impressions in his skin. Deep bruises colored his knee and ran halfway down his shin, but they were already the color of days-old wounds.

As she watched, she swore she could see the sickly colors fading.

Careful not to hurt him, she probed the area, searching for signs of broken bones. The feel of his skin under her fingertips distracted her, and she had to start over and force herself to pay attention.

He loved another woman, and because of that, she shouldn’t have let herself feel anything for him at all, not even some girlish distraction.

She still couldn’t believe she’d kissed him. Even more surprising was that he’d almost kissed her back. If not for the spike of pain the disk had given her, chances were he’d have done a lot more than just kiss her.

And she would have let him.

She felt guilty enough that she’d kissed a man who loved another woman. If she’d had sex with him, she probably wouldn’t have been able to live with herself.

Whoever the woman was, she was an idiot not to hold on to Torr with both hands and never let him go. He was an amazing combination of sweet and fierce, ruthless and gentle. His anger had scared her, but she believed him when he said he would never hurt her.

Maybe that made her as much of a fool as her mother had been to believe her stepfather.

For the thousandth time since having that single memory restored, Grace wondered where her family was. If they were still alive. If they were searching for her.

If she proved herself to Torr, maybe he’d take her back to Earth, where she could have at least a chance of finding them.

She knew how bad things were there. How dangerous Earth was. Synestryn demons roamed free, hunting for even the slightest drop of Athanasian blood and the magic it carried. Brenya had told her that she had some of that running in her veins. Somewhere on Grace’s family tree there’d been an Athanasian ancestor. That made her vulnerable to attack.

While part of Grace wanted to stay here in the world she knew and understood, she still ached to go home. Yearned to make a life for herself with her own kind.

Torr was the key to that.

If she could convince him that she wasn’t weak, that he didn’t have to protect her from the Synestryn, that she wouldn’t be a burden to him, then maybe he would take her home.

She watched the firelight flicker over his body. He was shirtless again, giving her eyes a visual feast. The silvery necklace he wore danced with swirling patterns of light and color. Each breath expanded his ribs and drew her attention to his lifemark and the intriguing masculine planes of his body.

The desire to touch him was overwhelming. The only thing holding her back was respect for him and his love for the lucky woman. Even if she was out of reach to him, he still cared deeply for her. And while Torr had been obvious in his attraction to Grace, she refused to be a substitute for the woman he truly wanted.

Down that path lay her destruction.

It was better to keep her hands to herself, guard her heart, and hope that there were more men like Torr out there.

Sadly, if there weren’t, she was sure she’d end up alone, because from this point on, she knew she would compare all other men to him. And chances were that when she did, they’d come up lacking.

He shifted in his sleep, letting out a low moan of pain. The sound wrapped around her, bringing with it a memory of the smell of antiseptic and the hum of machines. Those echoes of memories faded fast, leaving her wondering what had triggered them.

His pain called to her on a level so deep she couldn’t deny it. She knelt by his side, taking his hand in hers. She wished there was more she could do to ease him, but she’d done everything she could. All that was left to her now was watching over him while he slept and healed.

For a moment, she allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to have Brenya’s power to heal. She knew the act wasn’t fun—that it took its toll—but she didn’t care. Power like that was worth the cost. Being strong enough to help people would go a long way toward making up for her physical weakness.

She gently laid her hand on Torr’s knee. Her fingers tightened. Heat spun up her arm, curling through her body until it dissipated as it flowed into the metal disk on her back.

As she stood to take her place guarding his sleep, her own knee began to ache as if she’d been kneeling on a rock.

She tried to walk off the pain, but a slow trip around the perimeter of their tiny camp did no good.

Grace limped to the bag where Torr had put the box holding the crystals. Frost covered the leather surface. She pulled out the box, wincing at the icy chill that seeped out from the container wrapped in his shirt. She used that shirt to tie the box to her knee and let the cold help ease her pain.

She would be better soon. She had to be. He needed her to protect him while he slept so that he could protect her village and everyone she loved once he woke.

She kept a constant watch for Masons and Hunters, listening for any sign of their approach. She heard nothing.

The chill against her knee began permeating her blood as the air cooled and the sky darkened.

She scooted closer to the fire.

The movement woke Torr. His eyes opened, blinking away the haze of drug-induced sleep.

He should have slept much longer, but maybe he’d thrown off the effects of the anti-inflammatory potion as fast as he healed.

Grace shifted her body to hide her knee and quickly untied the box. She didn’t want him to worry.

He was at her side, looming over her just as she opened the lid.

Blue light pulsed out, instantly slowing her heart to match its pace.

“What are you doing with that?” he asked.

“Just looking at them.” The lie felt like acid on her tongue, but it was better than admitting her weakness.

“They’re dangerous. They need to stay cold. That’s why Brenya gave us the box.”

She shut the lid and tied his tattered shirt back in place to hold it closed. She handed him the box to keep from having to get up and put it away in his bag. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes. My knee seems fine. I thought it would take longer to heal than that. Your dirty-foot potion packs a wallop, but it worked wonders.” He tucked the box back where it belonged.

“Glad to help.”

“I’d say we should get moving, but it’s probably too dangerous for you to walk through the woods at night.”

She wanted to snap at him, telling him she would manage, but he’d just handed her the perfect excuse to stay here, off her sore knee. “Probably smart not to risk it.”

He gave her a funny look, like he was expecting her to say something else. “What? No argument? Are you sick?”

“Of course not. You are capable of having good ideas, aren’t you?”

“I always thought so. I just wasn’t sure you did.”

If he prodded more, he might figure out what was going on. Before that could happen, she needed to distract him. “I’m going to sleep for a while. Wake me when you’re ready to go?”

“Sure. Okay. Whatever you want.”

“Just sleep.”

She rolled over, facing away from the fire and the light it put off. A moment later, Torr’s big feet filled her vision.

He crouched next to her. “I will figure out what you’re hiding.”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“You are, but that’s okay. It’ll give me something to puzzle over while you sleep.”

“Really, Torr. I’m just tired. It’s been a crazy day.”

He gave a slow nod that wasn’t at all reassuring. “Sleep, then. I’m sure I’ll figure it out by the time you wake up. Then we’ll talk.”

Grace closed her eyes before they could give her away and prayed there’d be nothing to talk about by morning.

T
ori paced, waiting for Brenya to free her from her punishment.

Cutting Torr wasn’t right. She knew that. But this—this torture was more than she deserved. If she’d known she was going to end up here, she would have cut him deeper.

She covered her ears, trying to ignore the pitiful screams. She knew that it wouldn’t take much to make the noise stop, but her vow to Brenya stayed her hand.

She couldn’t kill it. Not today.

Finally, when she could take no more of the noise, she stalked over to the wooden box and looked inside.

The baby was red-faced, its chin wobbling with its misery. Each long scream ended in a breathless vibration that set Tori’s teeth on edge.

Willing to do anything to make the noise stop, she picked up the wailing child and held it at arm’s length.

The smell of piss sharpened the air. It was wet.

A stack of clean, soft cloths sat waiting to be used. Tori had never changed a diaper before, but if it would get the child to shut the hell up, she’d figure it out.

She set the baby on the bed, pinning it there with one hand while she reached for what she needed. The screaming went on, drilling its way into her ears. All she could think about was the way the children locked in those caves with her had screamed while they were being hurt.

The sour taste of bile rose in the back of her throat. She swallowed it down and stripped the squalling infant naked. The clean cloth went on the way the dirty one had come off, and in a few seconds Tori had managed the task.

She held the baby against her chest to check the back of her work, and instantly the screaming stopped.

Blissful silence filled the nursery and gave Tori some space to breathe.

She set the baby back in her box, and the screaming started again.

Tori’s skin crawled up her neck, trying to work its way into her ears to block the noise. She was desperate enough that she even put the baby back against her chest, hoping it would quiet again.

It did, which was more than a small miracle.

Tori went to the door where her captor stood guard—one of Brenya’s soldiers, who was willing to obey any order given.

She pushed the door open enough to say, “The baby is quiet. I’m ready to come out now.”

“Is she asleep?” asked the guard.

“No.”

“Then you’re not done yet.” The guard shut the door.

Tori looked down at her punishment. “Sleep,” she ordered.

The tiny thing blinked, but that was all.

Tori could make it sleep. Cover its nose and mouth. Just long enough to get it to close its eyes.

She moved her hand to do just that, but found herself frozen, unable to complete the motion.

“Stupid fucking vow,” she snarled. “What the hell am I supposed to do with you now?”

The baby blinked again.

It was kind of pretty for a screaming, bald creature. Long black lashes swept out from its eyes, wet from its crying fit. Its irises were the palest green, like newly sprouted plants on Earth. If Tori looked hard enough, she could see the slightest bit of motion in them—a kind of lazy swirling of silver and green that gave away the child’s heritage.

Tori didn’t know what color her baby’s eyes had been before it died. She hadn’t bothered to look.

A surge of rage swelled beneath her skin. Her hold on the child tightened. But instead of screaming in pain and dragging Tori’s guard in here, the child yawned.

She hadn’t hurt it. Her vow had kept it safe.

Tori backed up to the only chair in the hut and sat. The chair rocked beneath her, reminding her of a time when she’d rocked her dolls to sleep as a child. She’d been a real girl then, not the empty, pitiful thing she was now.

Whatever she was, the baby didn’t seem to mind. It just stared up at her as she cradled it in one arm and began rocking.

The slow, rhythmic motion had a calming effect. After a few minutes, the rage she lived with every day trickled away, leaving an odd blank feeling.

If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought it was peace.

Tori leaned her head back and kept rocking. She had no idea how much time had passed when she finally looked down.

The baby was asleep. Tori was freed from her punishment. All she had to do now was stand up and set the child in its box.

Why, then, didn’t she get up? Why was she still sitting here when there was hunting to do? Killing was more fun than this torture.

Wasn’t it?

She wasn’t sure anymore. All she knew was that there was a kind of quiet inside her for the first time in years. Even the screaming in her head was silent, and that had been part of her for so long that she hadn’t even realized it was there until now.

Maybe hunting could wait. There were always going to be things for her to kill. This precious silence was going to end soon. Then it would be just her and the tortured screams in her skull.

•   •   •

It had been a long time since Torr had practiced with any weapons other than his sword, but he went through the motions of fighting with a war hammer, repeating drills from his youth. His technique was a bit rusty, but the knowledge was still there. With each swing, his body flowed more easily, settling into a familiar rhythm.

When the time came, he would be ready to face the Warden.

Dawn spread through the sky, turning it from black to crimson. The animals of the forest began to quiet, and the scent of dew-damp leaves filled the air.

Grace lay sleeping on the far side of the dead fire. As soon as he’d sensed she’d fallen asleep, he put it out so as not to attract company.

She’d barely shifted through the night, but every time she did, she let out small pain-filled sounds that tore at his heart.

She wasn’t meant for this life. She deserved to be safe, surrounded by soft, beautiful things that made her happy.

Once again he was reminded of just how wrong he was for her—how far apart their worlds really were.

He didn’t know how to let her go.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. His whole body reacted to her gaze. A slight shiver of pleasure raced across his skin, and a sizzle of excitement coursed along his spine, vibrating the carved disk as it passed. He wanted to slide in beside her and take her in his arms, while at the same time he felt the need to push her away for her own safety.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

She stretched and yawned. The move thrust her breasts toward him in a completely innocent, completely intoxicating way. The urge to peel that tunic down and suckle her nipples was strong enough to make his legs shake.

“I did. Did you get any rest?”

“I don’t need much.”

“Must be nice.” She sat up and ran her fingers through her tousled hair. She looked like he imagined she would after a long night of marathon sex. The image had his cock swelling with painful speed.

When he spoke, his voice was thick with lust he couldn’t control. “It’s time to head back to the village as soon as you can see well enough to travel.”

“What about the crystals?”

“I’ll use them after I drop you off,” said Torr.

“What are you going to do with them?”

“Close the portal.”

“You don’t even know where it is.”

“I’ll find it.”

“How?”

“I’ll follow the Masons. They were sent here to build it. My guess is that they will only spend as much time as they must building Hunters. Once they think they have enough to protect them and their work, they’ll go back to their primary task.”

“Do you think they’re going to open a doorway to Earth?”

“Maybe. It could open to Athanasia, but I promise you that wherever it leads, there are all kinds of nasty things we don’t want coming here. Brenya controls the Sentinel Stone in the village, but she won’t have any control over what flows through this one.”

“Once we destroy the portal, what’s to stop the Solarc from sending another group?”

“Brenya seems to think that if she has no direct hand in destroying them, the Solarc will assume she’s not here.”

“Because if she was here, she’d fight back.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t like it,” said Grace.

“Neither do I, but I tend to believe that Brenya knows what she’s doing. If she thinks this is our best shot, then that’s my plan.”

“I want to help.”

“I know, but the way you do that best is by staying out of danger. If I’m worried about you, I can’t think straight.”

She looked at the forest floor, frowning. “That’s the way I feel, too.” When her gaze lifted, it was blazing with determination. “Which is why I’m going with you to follow the Masons. I know you think I’m weak, but I can help. I
will
help, Torr.”

“I don’t think you’re weak, but there are some jobs that you’re not suited to. Battle is one of them.”

“The lives of everyone I love are in danger. You can’t ask me to just sit around and hope for the best.”

“And you can’t ask me to put you in harm’s way.”

“What if you get injured? Or worse? How will Brenya even know she needs to summon reinforcements?”

Torr decided it was best not to tell her that he didn’t think Brenya still had enough juice to summon anyone. “I’m sure she has her ways.”

“She’s weak, Torr—stretched too thin from keeping the village protected.”

“And she’s probably worried sick about you right now. That’s not going to help her recover her strength.”

Grace got right up in his face and poked her finger against his chest. Her expression was fierce, reminding him of the battle maidens from his youth who helped slaughter entire armies through sheer force of will. “These are my people. I’m helping, with or without your permission. You can either let me work with you, or I’ll figure out a way to be helpful on my own—even if it means drawing the Hunters away from the village by crashing through the woods so I’m easy to find.”

She’d do it, too. Torr could see she wasn’t bluffing.

“I should tie you to a tree.”

“Maybe. But you won’t. You vowed to protect humans, which means you’d be too worried about what might happen to me if one of those Hunters came slicing through it.”

“My vow also means taking you back to the village, where you’ll be safe.”

“But I won’t be safe there, because I won’t stay there. And you can’t make me stay if you’re not there with me. Even Brenya couldn’t make me stay. That means the safest place for me is by your side.” She cocked her head and smiled. “How’s that working for your vow?”

“Not well at all,” he said between clenched teeth. “You’re not playing fair.”

“No, I guess I’m not. I’d tell you I feel bad about manipulating you, but that would be a lie.”

“So you won’t lie, but you will manipulate.”

“To save your life? Absolutely.”

“You clearly have little faith in me if you think I can’t handle this on my own.”

“Actually, I’m sure you can handle it. But things go wrong. People get hurt. Remember your injured knee? I don’t want one little mistake being the difference between my entire village surviving or not. At least if I’m here with you, I can run away and warn the others that danger is on the way.”

She wasn’t going to budge. He’d seen this exact look on her face before, and while she was the sweetest, most selfless person he’d ever met, she also never let anyone get in the way of her doing what she thought was right.

Obviously she thought putting herself in danger was right.

“Will you do exactly what I say when I say it?” he asked.

“Probably not.”

Not the answer he thought he’d get. “What?”

“I’ve already played this game with Brenya enough times to know how it goes. First you get me to agree to something. Then you convince me to make some vague promise that seems harmless. Once you’ve got that, then you tell me to do something I don’t want to do and I’m forced to comply. I’ve scrubbed enough pots to have learned my lesson.”

“What lesson is that?”

“Don’t make promises to those more powerful than I am.”

He wanted to throttle her, or better yet, toss her over his shoulder and carry her back to the village, where he
would
tie her to a tree.

“You might as well accept defeat,” she said. “You can’t force me to do what you want without hurting me, which I know you won’t do.”

She was right, and while her trust that he wouldn’t hurt her was humbling, the fact that she knew his limits left him in a weakened position.

“You
will
do what I say,” he warned.

She smiled sweetly. “Anything is possible.”

•   •   •

Grace waited until Torr’s back was turned before she dropped her smile.

Her knee was killing her. She’d done her best to cover it up, but she knew she wasn’t going to be able to hide her pain for much longer.

They packed up camp, and she waved for Torr to lead the way back to the stream where they’d temporarily killed the Mason. If he was in front of her, she didn’t have to hide how hard it was for her to keep up.

Each step shoved a bolt of lightning up her spine, but she managed to keep up with the pace he set. When he finally stopped by the edge of the stream, she was sweating and shaking from the pain.

Something about his posture tipped her off to danger. He was too still.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“The Mason is gone. I don’t see even a single grain of sand.”

“We could go see if they’re back in that crater, making more Hunters.”

He turned and looked her up and down. “How are the cuts on your thighs?”

Okay. So he could see she was in pain, but hadn’t guessed why. She could work with that. At least he didn’t know she had yet another injury.

“They’re sore, but I’m okay. I can keep going.”

His mouth twisted a bit as if he were holding back a curse. “I’m going to help you into a tree. Then I’m going to run over to the crater and check things out. You will stay where I put you, or so help me God, I will find a way to convince the biggest, strongest woman in the village to sit on you and hold you hostage.”

Because her knee hurt too much to argue, she didn’t. “Fine. I’ll stay, but if you don’t come back fast, I’ll assume something went wrong and come find you.”