Logan smiled a cold, inhuman smile. So beautiful. She couldn't help but stare.
She felt herself relax and start to drift. She could no longer remember why she'd been so upset. All she knew was that the world went away and the only thing that remained was Logan's beautiful face. Those haunting silvery eyes that almost seemed to glow.
"Close your eyes," he told her, reaching out for her.
Right before she obeyed, she saw sharp, white fangs lengthen from between his parted lips.
Drake couldn't move. He could barely breathe. He wasn't sure whether it was something Logan had done to him or if it was because of his injuries, but it didn't matter anymore. He couldn't save Helen. She'd given her blood oath to the Sanguinar and was bound to it for the rest of her life.
Drake choked on his rage, struggling against the weakness and pain that held his body down. All he could do was watch as Logan lowered his head to Helen's neck—her beautiful, soft neck that smelled like lilacs—and sank his fangs deep. Helen didn't even flinch. Her body was limp in Logan's arms, unable to fight. Not that she would have had a chance. Her vow had made sure of that. For the rest of her life, Logan would be able to feed from her whenever he wanted.
Drake heard a pitiful mewling sound and realized it was coming from himself. He couldn't stand to watch, but he couldn't look away, either. All he could do was bear witness to Logan's treachery and pray that he would stop before it was too late.
"That's it," said Thomas, his voice tight with worry. "I'm pulling over." The van slowed, but not nearly fast enough to make a difference.
Logan pulled away from Helen's neck, and a second later the wound closed as if it had never been there. Not even a pink spot remained. He laid her limp body gently on the floor of the van and smoothed her hair back from her face. His touch was loving in its tenderness and it made Drake's stomach give a sickening twist.
Logan turned to Drake and he could see something was different about him. Logan was no longer as pale or as gaunt as before and he wore an expression of victory. Conquest.
Thomas was in the back of the van with them now, but it was too late. There was nothing he could do to help Helen. The damage was already done.
Drake tried to warn Thomas that Logan had betrayed them, but he couldn't speak.
"What's wrong with her?" asked Thomas.
"She fainted. Everything's fine. Just drive."
"How's Drake?"
"Awake. Suffering. Leave me to tend him. Your job is to get us to the Gerai before it's too late."
Thomas hesitated as if sensing something was wrong. He pressed a blunt finger against Helen's wrist, checking for a pulse. "Did you know she was bleeding?" He held up Helen's hand and across the palm were several deep cuts. Glass was still embedded in one of them.
"I'll tend her. Go." Logan's voice was steady and even.
Drake struggled to speak. His eyes were wide and he was silently begging Thomas to understand what was wrong. Those damn choking noises came out, but nothing else. Nothing coherent.
Thomas laid her hand back down over her stomach and gave Drake a pained look. "You've got to do something for his pain."
"I will."
Thomas squeezed Drake's hand. Whether it was to reassure him or to tell him good-bye, Drake wasn't sure. A moment later, Thomas was gone and the van started moving again.
"I'm going to heal you now," he told Drake, "but before I do, I want you to listen. I know that as soon as your body is whole once again, you're more likely to kill me than thank me."
At least Logan knew the score. Now Drake had no obligation to warn him that he was going to kill him for taking Helen's blood.
"Helen is one of ours," whispered Logan in a reverent voice. "I don't know how it is possible, but I believe she is a Theronai. Your Theronai, should you choose to claim her."
Drake struggled to accept what Logan had just said. It didn't make any sense and between the searing pain of the burns and his broken bones, he couldn't think clearly enough to figure it out.
"We need her," continued Logan. "And she needs you. Who knows if any of the other Theronai would be compatible with her? Neither Thomas nor Zach is or they would have known it tonight like you did. They would have been drawn to her in some way. She needs you to bring her into our world, but if you try to kill me, you won't survive. I'll make sure of it. Before I'm done healing you, you will be peace-bound."
No! Drake struggled, but the movement only managed to make the broken ends of his ribs grate together. A wave of pain swept over him and he had to struggle to stay conscious.
Peace-bound to a Sanguinar who had hurt Helen. He couldn't stand the mere thought. The Sanguinar had been known to put a kind of self-destruct mechanism into the people they healed as a guarantee that their patients wouldn't try to kill them after they were well. War among the Sentinel races had been common for centuries, and the Sanguinar needed the insurance. Still, it hadn't been done in years. Human bloodlines had grown too weak and none of the Sanguinar were strong enough to wield that kind of magic any longer.
Maybe he was just bluffing so Drake wouldn't try to kill him the second he had the chance.
"You think I'm not strong enough, but you're wrong. Helen's blood is nearly pure. I don't know how that's possible, but it is. I am no longer the weakling you've come to know."
Drake forced himself to look up into the Sanguinar's too-beautiful face.
Oh, hell. It was true. Drake could see it in Logan's triumphant expression. He could see the power glowing behind his pale eyes.
Logan smiled, his beauty too intense for Drake to stare at for very long. He looked away and prayed that whatever power Logan had, he wouldn't use it to harm any humans. There was nothing any of the Theronai could do to stop a Sanguinar at full strength. Not even the Slayers had that kind of power and they were virtual killing machines.
"I think we understand each other," said Logan, satisfaction ringing in his voice. He ripped open the remains of Drake's shirt, sending bits of charred cotton into the air. Logan placed his hands on Drake's chest and closed his eyes.
A cool rush of power swept over Drake, as gentle as a breeze, and in the blink of an eye, the burns were gone, his leg was whole, his ribs no longer crushed. Drake had never seen anything or felt anything like it before. He'd been healed by the Sanguinar plenty of times, but it was never like this. Healing hurt. All the pain of recovery was shoved into a short interval of time, increasing its intensity. Usually, the Sanguinar didn't have enough power to both heal and prevent pain. The Theronai had learned to accept the pain as part of the price for recovery, and Drake had expected the worst, considering the extent of his burns.
Not only did the healing not hurt; it felt good. Soothing, like cool water lapping gently over his skin.
Drake looked up at Logan. The Sanguinar sat back on his heels. "Would you like to take a swing now just so you know the measures I've put in place are real?"
Drake shoved himself upright. Taking a swing would have been fun, but even thinking about it made his head throb. Whatever physical harm he did to Logan would come back to him greatly magnified. A punch to that pretty jaw might cost Drake all his teeth, or even break his neck. He'd had enough pain for one night and he needed to take care of Helen—make sure the Sanguinar had done no lasting damage.
"Fix Helen's hands, her face," ordered Drake. "You owe her at least that much." As soon as Logan complied, Drake was going to have Thomas come back here and beat the hell out of him. Drake couldn't touch him, but Thomas sure as hell could. Hard.
It took Logan only a few seconds to pull the glass from her wounds and knit her skin back together. Even the blood evaporated, leaving nothing but smooth, pink skin.
Drake ached to touch her—to check her for injury—but held back. There were too many odd things happening between them and he had to figure out what to do before he touched her again. Once he did that, he knew his thinking would be skewed and rationality would fly right out the window. She felt too good under his hands. Too right.
"Wake her up."
Logan reached for her, but let his hand fall. "No. Do it yourself."
"I'll have to touch her."
Logan smiled. "I know."
That was it. Drake was done dealing with Logan. It was time for Thomas to lend a helping fist. "Thomas, pull over. Now."
Thomas spared one quick glance over his shoulder, saw Drake awake and lucid, and the van screeched to a halt.
Logan wasn't going to wait around long enough for Drake to tell Thomas what he'd done. Drake wouldn't be able to hurt him, but Thomas was another matter entirely.
Before Thomas had completely stopped the van, Logan jumped out the back doors and sprinted into the trees skirting the rural Kansas road. His body was humming with power and even at a dead run, he wasn't breathing hard. He dialed Tynan, hoping his cell phone's signal was strong enough out here to stay connected.
"Yes," answered Tynan, his voice smooth and deep. He'd lost his accent years ago and not even a hint of it remained to give away his foreign birth in a country that no longer existed.
Logan's feet pounded over the ground. The air was warm and smelled like freshly tilled earth and prairie grass. "I need you to pick me up immediately. I'm on foot."
"Aren't you with Drake?"
"Not anymore. I had to leave. My company was no longer welcome."
Thankfully, Tynan didn't question him further. As leader of the Sanguinar, he had the right, but Tynan was a man who favored action as well as protecting those of his own race. "I can have someone out your way in an hour. We have plenty of men in the area."
"No," said Logan. "It needs to be you."
"I'm farther away. It will take me at least six hours to reach you."
Damn. That was putting it too close to dawn for Logan's taste. "Where are you?"
"Just north of Dallas."
"Project Lullaby?" asked Logan.
"Yes."
"You'll definitely want to meet me, then. Update me on our progress so I can help."
"I thought you said you weren't able to help—weren't strong enough," said Tynan with a hint of irritation. "That's why you were assigned to hunt with the Theronai."
"Things have changed." What an understatement that was. His whole world had shifted. For the first time in two centuries he was no longer starving. No longer weak. He wanted to howl out his triumph, but that would only give away his location.
"What's changed? Exactly?"
"Not on the phone. Meet me at Dabyr as soon as you can." The Theronai Nicholas liked his gadgets and it wouldn't surprise Logan at all to find out that he used them to listen to phone conversations when it suited him.
"This had better be worth my time," said Tynan.
"It is."
"Do you want me to go after him?" asked Thomas.