Living Nightmare (3 page)

C
armen lifted her sword to block Joseph’s swing. Their wooden practice swords clacked together as the hilts locked, and the next thing she knew, a sharp pain radiated from her ribs where he’d poked her with his finger. Hard.

“You can’t open yourself up for attack like that,” lectured Joseph. His dark hair had been cut short again, showing off more gray at his temples than she remembered. His shoulders seemed to bow as if he was carrying some kind of weight around that no one could see. Maybe he was. As leader of the Theronai, the man probably had a lot on his plate.

Yet he still found the time to train with her nearly every day. No one had ever taken that kind of time with her before. Not the uncle who took her in when her parents died, and sure as hell not her own father. But things were different since the Sentinels had taken her in. The ancient blood running in her veins allowed her to become a Gerai—a human who aided the Sentinels in their war—but that didn’t mean they had to put a roof over her head or pay for her education. They could have left her to make her own way, but thanks to Thomas—a Theronai who had sacrificed his life to save another—she now had a home at Dabyr. And a future.

She found herself craving the time she spent with Joseph, soaking up everything he had to teach her. She desperately wanted to make him proud, though she knew she was a long way off from that kind of miracle.

“You were going to chop my head off,” she argued. “What did you want me to do?”

“Ducking would have worked. Not being in the way of my sword when it comes at you is always a good option.”

Carmen shoved herself away from him in frustration and stepped to the far edge of the practice mat. She was panting, sweating like crazy, and feeling like she was about to fall over. Joseph wasn’t even winded.

He’d told her several times that she was going to regret asking him to train her, and now she was beginning to believe him. Not that she could ever let him know. He’d be way too smug and self-satisfied and she’d have to kill him for real then.

She couldn’t give up learning to fight. There were too many evil things in the world—things that stole people from their loved ones. Someone needed to kill them, and even though she was only one puny human, she intended to be the deadliest puny human the Synestryn had ever seen.

But the training wasn’t going as fast as she’d hoped. She needed to be out there, fighting the good fight. Right now. Frustration weighed down on her, making her anxious and impatient. “This is pointless. It’s not like the things I’ll be fighting use swords, anyway. Teeth and claws, sure, but not swords.”

The worry lines around his mouth deepened with his frown for a second before his expression went back to the neutral, patient mask he always wore while teaching her. “It’s good for your reflexes, builds your strength, and even if the things you fight don’t use a sword, you need to. It’s the best weapon for the job, next to magical firepower. Besides, I’m in charge of what you learn. You don’t like it, you can always walk away.”

“Nice try. No thanks.”

Joseph shrugged. “Your call. Just like it’s your call when you let me read Thomas’s note.”

Thomas. Just the mention of his name made her insides shrivel a little with sadness. He’d been good to her when no one else seemed to care whether she even existed. She’d known him for only a few hours, but those hours had changed her life. Sometimes, she thought she’d fallen in love with him.

“I’m not ready,” she told Joseph.

“It’s been months since his death.”

Months since he’d handed her a note she’d been unable to read. It was his death wish—his dying wish—and she’d promised Thomas she’d let Joseph read it first.

Carmen wasn’t ready for that. What if it was full of pity for the slutty teenager who’d come on to a man way too old for her? Way too good for her? She’d thrown herself at Thomas, but he hadn’t taken the offer. He’d treated her with respect—something no other man had ever done before him. What if that had all been an act and the note said not to trust the whacko kid who would slide her tits over anything with a penis? What if it said to keep her away from other teens so her trampy ways didn’t rub off on the young, impressionable girls?

Not that she’d done anything like that. She’d kept her vow to Thomas and hadn’t even thought about a man in a sexual way since coming here. Not one of them could hold a candle to Thomas, anyway. Why bother?

She’d come so close to opening his note several times without letting Joseph read it, but her promise to Thomas kept her from breaking down. Even though he was dead and no one but her would ever know, she felt she owed him enough to respect his wishes.

“I know how long it’s been,” she said. “I’m not ready.” Even as she said the words, she knew she had to stop delaying the inevitable. She needed to grow a backbone.

Joseph sighed and gave her a silent nod. “Are you done for the day? You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Grandpa?” He didn’t look that old—maybe mid-thirties—and by his race’s standards, he was still in his prime, but even so, he’d been acting like a tired old man lately, and it was time she snapped him out of it.

The faintest hint of a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. It was good to see. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him smile. “Grandpa?”

“You heard me. I know I should go easy on you, seeing as how you’re just a walking bag of arthritis, but I need to learn this stuff so I can take over when the heart attack hits.”

His smile widened. “Arthritis?”

“Want me to ask Miss Mabel if you can borrow her old walker? I’d hate to see you fall and break a hip.”

Joseph shook his head, grinning. “Teenagers,” he muttered under his breath. “Get your scrawny butt over here, and I’ll show you just what an old man like me can do.”

“You sure the Alzheimer’s hasn’t made you forget?”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

 

Nika was going to die. She was going to be slaughtered here tonight and end up breaking her promise to Tori. There was no way she could fight so many Synestryn. They were going to kill her.

Or worse. They’d take her blood and rip the last few hard-won bits of sanity from her mind, sending her back to that dark place where her thoughts were not her own, her body was a wasted shell, and death hovered over her, rubbing its hands in eager anticipation.

The nightmare flashed before her eyes, threatening to make her weak with fear. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want to go back to that place where she was helpless against the pull of the monsters, where they could rip her from her body and force her to watch the things they did, to revel in the shedding of blood, and the creation of pain and sorrow.

Dying seemed like the better of the two options. Her best chance was to provoke them into a rage so they’d kill her outright.

The broken promise cut her deep, slicing at her soul until it bled, but she couldn’t let the sgath have her mind again. She couldn’t.

Nika swung the shovel, bashing one of the beasts in the head. The shovel bounced off, making her arms sting with the force of her blow, but it did nothing to the Synestryn. It didn’t even knock the monster off balance.

And there were six of them, soon to be more, since she still hadn’t stopped her hand from bleeding.

A silver arc of light flashed in front of her, and a split second later the head of the closest sgath flew up and away from its body.

A massive man shoved himself between her and the monsters.

Madoc.

He was here. Nika’s soul cried out in joy.

She reached out and laid her hand on his broad back, touching him to make sure he was real and not a figment of her imagination.

The warmth of his body radiated out, thawing her chilled fingers. His muscles bunched beneath the battered leather jacket as he moved, fending off the Synestryn, cutting them down with his sword.

Nika closed her eyes and soaked in the feel of him, real and solid after so many months of wishing.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he snapped at her. “I’ll hold them off.”

Nika jerked back to reality. The rabid sound of the sgath fighting him rose until it filled her ears. She couldn’t see past him, but she knew fighting off so many of the beasts was going to be difficult if not impossible.

If she ran, he might disappear again. She had to help him, not leave him, so she pressed herself against the cold tree, shed her body, and thrust her mind into the nearest sgath.

It had consumed her blood somehow—likely by eating the flesh of another sgath that had also consumed her blood—and because of that, Nika was connected to it. She could reach inside its mind, take hold, and, if she was strong enough, force it to do her bidding for a short time.

Luckily, a short time was all it would take for Madoc to cut the beast down once she held it still for his blade.

Maneuvering through the thing’s mind was like wading through fetid sludge. Every step pulled at her, trying to drag her under. Nika fought it, ignored the rotten filth of its thoughts, and seized control of the sgath’s limbs.

It howled in rage, trying to violently thrust her out of its mind, but Nika refused to budge.

Through its eyes she saw Madoc swing his sword. His movements were jerkier than normal—not at all as fluid as they once had been. He was still a glowing powerhouse of strength, but there was something else she could see in him—something the sgath could sense that she could not while inside her own body. It was as if the sgath recognized part of Madoc—a dark, violent part of him that was normally hidden.

Nika was so intrigued by this new vision, she nearly forgot her task.

The sgath she possessed lunged for his throat. Nika grabbed a mental hold of the thing’s jaws and clamped them shut before its teeth could make contact. The sgath bounced off, landing awkwardly on its side.

Vertigo twisted Nika’s world as the sgath righted itself and moved in for another attack.

This time, Nika was ready. She focused her will, taking control of the sgath’s body. She forced it to remain still, to wait patiently while Madoc’s blade cut through its side.

Nika felt the sword slice into her. She felt the frantic panic that seized the sgath as it realized death was coming for it.

Madoc lifted his thick arm again and landed a death-blow, severing the sgath’s head.

Nika flung herself from the beast’s mind before it was too late—before she died right along with the sgath. Her body sucked her back in, like she’d been tethered at the end of a bungee cord. The mental whiplash made her head spin, but she was used to that. The tree at her back held her steady while she regained her balance.

By the time her world had stopped spinning, Madoc had finished slaughtering the last sgath and had turned to face her.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, his blunt features tightening into a mask of rage. His green eyes were darker than she remembered, or maybe it was simply the lack of light out here in the cemetery.

Nika’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. She was breathing hard, shaking from her efforts tonight, and nearly unable to stand. Words seemed unimportant.

Instead, she pushed herself up, slid her arms inside Madoc’s open jacket, and snuggled against his body. Instantly, his heat soaked into her, driving away some of the chill in her bones.

Madoc’s body went utterly still. “Don’t touch me.”

Nika pressed her cheek against his chest, reveling in the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. Against her breasts, his muscles clenched hard. Her nipples tightened, but she was too lost in his warmth to be embarrassed by her body’s reaction to him.

His voice shook, sounding strained, as if it was difficult for him to control his words. “You shouldn’t fucking touch me. It’s not safe.”

Safe or not, she wasn’t pulling away from his delicious heat anytime soon. “I’m cold,” she told him so he’d leave her be to enjoy herself.

But he didn’t. He disengaged her limbs from around his body, stripped off his coat, wrapped it around her, and took a long step back. “Stay away.”

His scent clung to the leather, filling her lungs every time she breathed in. His warmth surrounded her, soaking into her chilled skin. Nika slipped her arms into the sleeves and hugged that warmth close.

The dizziness had faded, and although her body was weak from the physical exertion she’d done tonight, her mind felt strong. Solid. Whole.

Whenever Madoc was near, the sgath left her alone. They didn’t try to drag her away from her body and show her all the horrible, violent things they could do. They knew better than to try to hurt her when he was around. They were smart enough to fear him.

In fact, everyone seemed to fear him, at least in some small way. Except her.

Maybe they all saw that darkness the sgath had seen in him, and she was the only one blind to that dangerous side of him. Maybe when it came to Madoc, Nika
was
crazy.

She reached for him and he stumbled backward, trying to get away from her.

“I won’t hurt you,” she told him, letting her hand drop.

“No, but I can’t say the same. You need to get in that car you stole and drive your ass back to Dabyr.”

“I can’t leave. Not until I have the bones.”

“What bones?”

“The bones of the stranger lying in my sister’s grave.”

A frown gripped his blunt features, forcing his brows low over his eyes. “Tori’s bones?”

“No. Not Tori’s. My sister is alive.”

Madoc let out a heavy, long-suffering sigh. “We’re back to this, are we?”

“
We
never left
this
. The fact that no one listens to me does not change the truth.”

“It’s too damn cold out here for you to be playing in the dirt. Go home.”