That Shade didn’t jibe with the one who kept a torture chamber. And why the hell hadn’t Wraith been able to see Shade’s sick secret when he tripped through Shade’s mind?

Fuck.

Lying on her stomach, Runa moaned into the pillow. With a shaking hand, Wraith covered her with a blanket, careful not to touch her wrists, which had become abraded as she struggled in her bonds. He looked down at Shade, still knocked out on the floor. What now?

Eidolon. He had to call E. He’d know what to do. He always did.

Wraith fumbled around in his jeans’ pocket until he found his cell. No signal. Shock, that, here in the middle of BF Central America.

But even in BF Central America Shade would have a way to contact the outside world. Shade didn’t like to be isolated for long. As much as he tried to act all I-don’t-need-anyone, Shade was, at heart, a social creature. A sadistic social creature.

Fuck.

Wraith did a quick sweep of the cave, finally found a satellite phone, and dialed E. The moment his brother answered, Wraith’s calm exterior collapsed like an apprentice sorcerer’s first spell.

“E, we got trouble. Oh, man, oh, man—”

“Calm down.” Eidolon’s voice was barely audible over the static. “What’s wrong?”

“Shade. It’s Shade. I’m at his … torture chamber.”

Silence filled the airwaves. “Shit.”

“You knew?” Wraith realized he was practically screaming, and lowered his voice. “You knew about this?”

“We’ll talk about it later. Tell me what’s going on. Where is Shade?”

Wraith swallowed dryly. “He’s here. He’s hurt. And his female … just hurry.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Wraith sank onto the bed next to Runa and put his hand on the back of her neck. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on feeding her comforting images. Hopefully, she liked the beach. Piña coladas. Warm sand. Anything that would give her a few minutes of peace to help heal the hell she’d just gone through.

It was only later that he realized that instead of killing her, as he should have done to keep Shade from the Maluncoeur’s clutches, he’d helped her.

Maybe because deep down, he believed his brother was already too far gone to help.

Eidolon left Reaver in charge of the emergency department and went straight to Shade’s cave. That Wraith knew about it was not good, but when he saw Runa lying on the bed and Shade unconscious on the floor, he knew it was a whole lot worse than not good.

“I got it,” he said to Wraith, who stood and let Eidolon take his place.

“Hurry.” Wraith’s voice was a tangle of worry and pain and fear. Wraith, who generally didn’t give a shit about anyone. Eidolon would never figure his brother out.

Eidolon reached for Runa, but hesitated, his palm hovering over her spine. The smart thing to do would be to kill her. Now, while Shade was unaware of what was happening and while she was too out of it to know. He could do it quickly, humanely.

Humanely. What a joke. Humans liked to pretend they were superior, above all others, but how superior were people who stoned women to death for cheating on their husbands? Or who made animals fight for amusement? Sure, demons weren’t any better, but at least they didn’t hide behind religious tenets and cultural tradition to excuse their brutality. Demons pretty much just had the excuse that they were demons.

“E?”

Wraith’s voice jerked him out of his thoughts. Eidolon had never been fond of humans and their arrogance, which constantly cracked Tayla up, because she liked to remind him that she’d never met anyone as arrogant as he was.

“I don’t think you should do it,” Wraith said quietly. “She’s been through enough at Shade’s hands.” He looked down at the floor, but whether he was looking away to hide his embarrassment at being caught showing mercy or he was looking at Shade, Eidolon didn’t know.

“We’re going to lose him, if I don’t.”

“We’re going to lose him anyway. Look at him. The curse is already active.”

An instant, searing pain sliced through him. Wraith was right. It was clear that Shade was in love with Runa. Killing her now might only accelerate the curse. All he had to do was look at Kynan to figure that out. Immediately after Lori’s death, his love for her had probably been stronger than ever, tied to his misery over both her murder and her betrayal.

Shifting into doctor mode, he performed a rapid exam, was relieved to see that Runa was suffering more from exhaustion than anything. Shade had held back. He flashed a look at Shade, whose multiple wounds covered his chest, stomach, and shoulders, and then revised his thought. Shade had definitely not held back.

E concentrated until the warm tingle of his healing gift ran down his right arm, and then he put his hand on Runa’s shoulder. Instantly, the light pink streaks on her back and the abrasions on her wrists healed. Behind him, he heard Shade struggling to get to Runa, but Wraith sat on their brother, holding him down.

“Let me up,” Shade snarled. He grunted in pain, and Eidolon figured Wraith had applied some sort of pressure.

“E, shit,” Wraith muttered. “You done with her?”

Eidolon frowned. Shade’s lips were drawn back in a pained snarl, and he was reaching for the flail on the floor. Dammit. Eidolon grasped Runa’s hand.

“Runa.” She rolled onto her side, her glassy eyes blinking as she became aware of her surroundings. “Shade gave you a safe word. You need to say it.”

“What?” She tugged the blanket up over her br**sts.

“Safe word! What is it? He needs to be released.”

She paled. “Shadow,” she whispered. “Shadow.”

Shade sagged to the floor, stark relief in his expression. “I’m sorry, Runa,” he rasped. “So sorry.”

“What happened, Shade?” Eidolon asked. “Why are you injured?”

“What the hell is going on?” Wraith demanded.

There was no point in lying or beating around the bush anymore. Eidolon moved off the bed to kneel next to Shade and channel healing waves into him. “It’s not as bad as you think, Wraith.”

Wraith leaped to his feet and made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “You wanna change your story, bro? Because I’m thinking that these—” he grabbed a pair of handcuffs off the wall “—are exactly what I think. Our brother is one sick puppy.” He laughed bitterly. “And I thought Roag was the sick one.”

Runa bounded off the bed so fast she nearly knocked Eidolon over. She got right up into Wraith’s face. Buck na**d. “Don’t you dare compare Shade to Roag. You have no idea what you’re talking about. Say one more word and I’ll drop you.”

In all the years Eidolon had known Wraith, he’d never seen his brother speechless.

Runa had just done the impossible.

Runa spun away from Wraith and knelt on the floor next to Shade, who was ashen and shaky, and much of him was fading in and out. What he’d done for her, how he’d somehow fought her desire for punishment and turned it on himself, well, it was a sacrifice beyond comprehension.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “So sorry.”

She palmed his cheek, feeling the rough scrape of new whisker growth. “No. Don’t be. I’m the one who’s sorry. What you did for me—”

“I’d do it again.”

Her eyes stung. “I know you would.” She tugged the comforter off the bed and wrapped them both in it. “Can you feel it? I’m free.”

The guilt over her mother’s death was gone, as was her anger at Shade. Suddenly, nothing mattered but the bond they shared. She might not be physically marked, but that didn’t make the connection any less powerful.

He swallowed. Once, twice. “The darkness in you is gone. But I still can’t … Gods, Runa. What I did to you. I’ve never been able to protect the females in my life. I always hurt them. I hurt you.”

“Shh.”

She pressed her finger against his lips, and he tugged her into his lap and held her so tightly she had to struggle to breathe. The sound of his heartbeat came to her in a rapid-fire punch, nearly drowning out the voices of his brothers as Eidolon tried to explain Shade’s gift for releasing females from whatever troubled them. From Wraith’s angry words, she guessed it wasn’t going well.

Gently, she pushed away, but stayed in Shade’s lap. “You need to tell me what’s going on with the disappearing act.” She glanced meaningfully at his left arm, which flickered in various stages of transparency. She felt him begin to shake beneath her, and her heart nearly broke. Whatever the problem was, it was bad.

“Remember when you asked about the Maluncoeur?” When she nodded, he continued. “It’s a curse. A curse I brought on myself.”

“How?”

He reached up to stroke her hair, but when her hair passed right through his hand, leaving behind only a whisper of air, he dropped his arm. “Do you know how long it took me to stop being angry at the warlock who cursed me? How long I blamed him and not myself?” He shook his head. “I was twenty. My mom went hunting, left me to take care of my sisters. But while she was gone, I entered my first transition.”

She nodded, remembering what he’d said and what she’d read about a Seminus demon’s maturation process. “You need nonstop sex for days to get through it.”

“Yeah. I went out, prowling for females, taking what I needed. And when I say take, I mean it.” He blew out a long breath and looked up at the ceiling. “I’d never had sex before the transition hit me, and then when I did, it was insane, fast, violent. I just needed to get off to get through the transition, you know? So when it was over, I wanted it because I wanted it. Not because I needed it. Does that make sense?”

Not really, but she nodded, noticed that his brothers had moved to just outside the doorway to give them some privacy, and she wondered how much of this story they’d known and how much was new.