“Mind if I get dressed?” she asked Joseph, her tone caustic and belligerent.
Joseph nodded his head toward the small bathroom behind him. “Feel free. Morgan, untape her.”
The Theronai flashed a bright smile. “My pleasure.”
Lyka lifted her chin to look up at him. “I may be unarmed, but that doesn’t mean I won’t find a way to hurt you.”
Morgan laughed.
“Behave, Lyka,” scolded her brother. “Show some honor.”
“If he has his way, I’ll be showing a hell of a lot more than honor. I’d really rather not put myself on display to our enemy.”
“Enough,” said Andreas. His voice was low, but the menace threaded through his tone was enough to make Joseph’s hand twitch toward his sword.
Lyka pressed her lips closed and stood there while Morgan ripped the tape from the sheet.
Joseph wanted to watch him open such a lovely package, but he knew better than to leer. “You wanted to talk. Let’s talk.”
Lyka gripped the now loose sheet, and went into the bathroom where Nika had dropped a set of borrowed clothing.
Andreas pulled in a breath, like he was preparing to do something distasteful. “I’ve only recently come into power over the Slayers. Until I was privy to the information our previous leader had, I had no clue how bad things truly were.”
“What things?”
“My people are dying—not by the hands of the Synestryn, but by their own decisions. We’ve bred with humans for so many generations that only a few of us still have the power of our ancestors.”
“You’re weak, so now you want to end the war? Is that it?”
“No. We’re weak, and because of that, we’re no longer as effective at fighting the Synestryn as we once were. They’re getting stronger every year. Their numbers are growing. You know as well as I do that if we don’t do something, we’re going to lose everything.” He leaned forward, his tawny eyes fixing on Joseph. “I was born into this war. I’ve even done harm to your people in my youth, but I see now that it can’t continue. We can’t keep fighting each other if we’re to have any chance of beating back the demons.”
“So why not just go on as we are, ignoring each other? It’s been years since I wasted any assets on your people.”
“I believe that things are changing. We’re at a crossroads. If we don’t join together, I fear that the war with the Synestryn is already lost and we just don’t know it yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve seen things. I’ve followed huge hoards of Synestryn in the night, watching them. They’re migrating.”
“To where?”
“Here. They’re closing in around you, filling the caves that riddle this area.”
Joseph had seen proof of that as well, though not as up close as Andreas claimed to have seen. From the corner of his eye, he saw his men shift uncomfortably. Of all the men he had under his command, Madoc had been out fighting the most. He’d nearly run himself into the ground searching out every last living creature that had fed on Nika’s blood.
Joseph turned to Madoc. “What do you think?”
Madoc frowned and crossed his thick arms over his chest as he shifted closer to Nika. “I think it would be a dumb-ass move to trust him. This is out of the blue. We don’t know a thing about him.”
Andreas nodded, not seeming angry. “I understand your lack of trust. That’s why Lyka’s here.”
She walked out of the bathroom, wearing a pair of loose sweats and a T-shirt. Joseph’s eyes skimmed her body, taking in the athletic curves he could detect beneath the clothes. Her hair was a million shades of yellow and gold and a total mess. It poufed around her face, like a mane.
Joseph found it cute.
Something in him loosened up as he watched her, like the pressure behind his eyes had been vented. A headache he’d had so long he’d stopped noticing it faded.
“Lyka has agreed to stay here under your authority as proof of my good intentions.”
Lyka snorted. “I think
agreed
is a bit of a stretch. You didn’t exactly give me much of a choice.”
Joseph stared at Andreas in disbelief. “You’re giving me your sister as a hostage?”
“I believe that the only way to save my people is to resort to the old ways. I’m abiding by the customs of my ancestors. Lyka’s the perfect choice, because while she makes me want to scream and strangle her scrawny neck sometimes, there is no one on this planet I love more.”
Tears pooled in Lyka’s eyes and she turned away, blinking them back.
“You’ve got an odd way of showing it,” said Joseph. “What makes you think I won’t just kill her the moment your back is turned?”
“You’re a smart man, a man of honor. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have brought me your brother-in-arms when his soul died.”
Just the memory of giving Chris’s life over to Andreas was enough to make Joseph’s gut clench in grief. “It was necessary.”
“It proves you do what you must. As do I. You know as well as I do that all the Sentinels are nearing extinction. We have to do something, and I’ve decided to take the first step.”
“What will you want from us?” asked Joseph.
“Nothing I’m not willing to give myself. I’d like to share intelligence and plan a strategy that has a hope of beating the Synestryn back.”
“You said your people are weak. What good are they in a fight?”
“Not all of us are weak. My family’s bloodline has been protected, as have a few others. I admit that most of our people will need protection, but I’ve heard you’re used to that—that dozens of humans live here.”
Joseph refused to confirm it. He trusted Andreas to a point, but until it was necessary to share information, he wasn’t going to offer anything.
“How many?” asked Joseph. “How many of your people can fight?”
“I’ll give you all the details you want as soon as I have your promise for peace.”
Any promise Joseph offered would be binding, so he had to be careful what he said. “I will agree to a temporary truce—long enough to discuss this with my people and the Sanguinar. If things are as you say, then we’ll consider something more binding.”
“I need more than that. I need your promise not to attack my people.”
“I’ve given you all I can for now. You can accept that or not. Your choice.”
Andreas’s jaw clenched, but he gave a curt nod. “May we stay while you decide? Or would you rather we get a hotel room in town?”
Joseph looked to Madoc. “Would you please get our guests settled in one of the suites? Make sure they’re comfortable.” And carefully watched. Joseph knew Madoc would do that without being asked. The man wasn’t exactly the most trusting, especially with his wife under the same roof.
“Come with me,” said Madoc.
They all left. Joseph hung back for a moment, staying in the cabin alone. He hoped like hell this wasn’t a trick, because truth was, things were getting worse by the day. Without a united front, their chances of fending off the Synestryn before they could overrun Earth were slim.
On the other hand, if what Andreas said was true, then chances of fending off the Synestryn
with
the help of the Slayers weren’t any better.
Chapter 5
H
ope made it through the rest of her day and hurried over to the homeless shelter where she volunteered. There were still a few minutes before the dinner rush started, and Hope had fled to the rooftop to soak up what was left of the sun.
Sister Olive came into the rooftop greenhouse where Hope lounged. It was her favorite spot, all warm and sunny, especially on a day like today. As cold as it was outside, the sun was shining bright, making a sun worshiper like Hope groan in delight.
“I thought I’d find you up here,” said Sister Olive. She was in her sixties, dressed in faded, plain street clothes rather than a habit. Her iron gray hair was pulled back in a tight bun at her nape, and her eyes were the same color as the sky above her head.
“Did you need me?” asked Hope.
Sister Olive shook her head and went about tending her plants. “No, I just wanted to see if you were okay. You look tired.”
The scents of tomato plants and herbs filled the greenhouse, calming Hope’s frayed nerves. “I had a late night.”
Concern drew Sister Olive’s overgrown brows together. “I hope there was no trouble.”
Hope didn’t want to worry her. Sister Olive was the closest thing to a mother Hope had. She’d taken Hope in when no one else claimed her, given her enough education to get her GED, and helped her start her photography business. And while Hope would never make big bucks, her work helped fill some of the void her lack of memory had left behind by creating lasting memories for others.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” she said, praying it was the truth.
“You went out looking for people again, didn’t you?”
Hope couldn’t lie to a nun. “Someone has to.”
“You need to leave that to the police. You’re going to get hurt if you go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I know there are gaps in your education, but I thought I’d at least taught you that much.”
“I’m being careful,” said Hope. “Besides, the police can’t do much. They’re already stretched thin as it is. There aren’t resources for them to devote much time to looking for a handful of people they aren’t even convinced are really missing.”
“We’ve talked about this. People move on. They don’t always say good-bye.”
Hope filled a plastic watering can and hefted it up onto the bench beside Sister Olive. “I know that, but I have a bad feeling.”
“So do I. I’m worried you’re going to get hurt doing something you’re not even remotely equipped to do.”
“I have eyes. I can look for people as well as anyone else.”
Sister Olive’s mouth turned down at the edges as she stared over her glasses at Hope. “My fear is that you’ll actually find out what’s happened to them. The hard way.”
“So you do believe I’m right. There is something bad going on.”
Sister Olive stripped off her glove and cupped Hope’s cheek. “What I believe is that I wouldn’t survive if anything happened to you. You, child, are part of my heart. I knew from the moment I found you that you were special.”
Hope soaked up the older woman’s words like thirsty plants soaked up water, and then sent up a prayer of thanks that this woman had been the one who’d found her all those years ago. “You say that about everyone.”
“Well, you’re especially special. God has plans for you. I can feel it.”
Hope covered the woman’s hand, knowing she’d never meet another soul as sweet as Sister Olive. “For all we know His plan is for me to find what’s happening and stop it.”
“Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know. What I do know is that I can’t stand by and do nothing. We’ve lost four regulars in as many months. And it’s been a week since I saw Rory.”
“That young woman with all the piercings and the pink hair?”
Hope nodded. “That’s the one. She didn’t come in every day, but she was here at least a couple times a week.”
“She was probably just passing through. It happens all the time.”
“She’s been around for more than a year. How is that passing through?” asked Hope. “Don’t I have a responsibility to look for her?”
Sister Olive sighed, pulled off the other glove, and set them on the workbench. “A shepherdess guarding her sheep. I guess I shouldn’t complain about that now, should I?”
“I’ll be careful,” she promised Sister Olive.
“You do that. This place needs you. I need you.” She dusted off her hands. “Speaking of which, I need to go and check on dinner. We’ll have a big crowd tonight.”
“I’ll be down to help in a minute.”
Sister Olive patted her shoulder. “You take your time. I know how much you miss the sun, and we don’t have much of it this time of year. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
Sister Olive left. Hope stripped out of her sweatshirt and let the sun soak into her skin. The tank top she wore was thin, allowing the delicious heat to slide over her.
The smell of basil and soil filled her nose, calming her nerves. Everything was fine. She’d find Rory tonight and give her hell for scaring her like that.
Hope lounged there, soaking up the warmth until the sun disappeared behind the surrounding buildings. She felt better now that she’d had some time to herself. She hadn’t once thought of Logan while she was here. Or that monster.
All was well in her world once again. She was safe, strong, and ready to finish off her duties for the day.
The dinner rush went by fast. Hope packed her bag full of sandwiches and blankets and was ready to hit the streets in search of Rory.
She stopped at the door, turning back to duck into the kitchen. She found the biggest, sharpest knife she could and added it to her bag. Just in case.
Iain slid his blade from the dead Synestryn and searched the tunnel for more. He’d come here to this nest to find the one kind of demon none of his Theronai brothers could fight: Synestryn with the faces of children.
Even though Iain’s soul was long dead, he could still remember what it had felt like to have one. He knew that there had been a time when the thought of slaying such a creature would have turned his stomach. But no longer.
He stared down at the dead abomination. It may have had the face of a child, but that was where the resemblance ended. It was fast, with six spindly, claw-tipped legs. It had been able to cling to the ceiling of the cave before propelling itself toward Iain for the kill.
He held up his sleeve, looking through the holes that thing’s teeth had left in his leather jacket—teeth strong enough to bite through the magical wards meant to protect him.
No, that thing was no more an innocent child than he was. But if he was the only one of his kind who could see that, then so be it. Everyone needed a reason to get up in the morning. Killing baby demons was his.
He’d push through the rest of this system of tunnels tonight, then head for the next one. Same ol’, same ol’.