Falling Blind

Page 40


He tried to assuage his guilt by telling himself that it was his duty to keep fighting, and he could only continue to do so if Rory stayed at his side. But while factually correct, his efforts to tie her to him were still a type of deception. And if he let down his guard and allowed her to peer into his thoughts, she would see it, glaring with guilt.

So he did the only thing he could think to do: he kept his mind closed to her and took her outside, in the field behind the Gerai house.

“What are we doing?” she asked.

“You said you wanted to learn how to fight.”

“I do, but I need a real fight—nothing huge or overwhelming, but more than an evil clump of weeds.”

“You really think I’m going to purposefully drag you into battle when you’ve barely learned anything? It’s bad enough that you were subjected to it accidentally.”

“I’ll learn on the fly. I think fast on my feet. I never would have survived two days locked in a basement full of monsters if that weren’t the case.”

He couldn’t stop the growl that emanated from his chest at the picture she painted.

“It’s no big deal. Not my idea of a primo vacation spot or anything, but let’s just say that it proved to me that I’m at my best when the shit hits the fan.”

“I’d rather not prove your theory wrong the hard way.”

She let out a weary sigh. “So you’re not taking me to really fight. I’m stuck with defeating evil weeds?”

“For now. When I’m sure you’re ready, then we’ll move up the food chain. Maybe defeat a malevolent bush.”

“And just hope that the demon-in-the-box stays put.” She propped her hand on her hip, bringing his attention to the deep curve of her waist.

Cain knew just how that skin felt under his hand, against his tongue. His mouth watered with the memory, making him wish he could march her back up to bed and keep her there for a year or two.

“I will kill the demon, but you’re not ready for that kind of fight. Not yet.”

“And what if we run out of time?”

“Then I will subdue you.”

“Before I managed to kill you first with my magical firepower?”

He shrugged, refusing to let her see how much he hated letting that creature linger within her. “If you kill me, you’ll have no more power. You’ll be as much of a threat as any normal human woman would be.”

“Clearly, you’ve never heard of PMS or you’d be more afraid.”

“I’m not taking you into combat until you prove you’re ready.”

“Fine. Test me.”

Before she had time to sense what he was doing, Cain drew his sword and sent it swinging toward her head. He had no intention of hurting her, but she wouldn’t know that. Just before he slowed the blow, a hot blue dome of light spilled down over her body. His sword skittered off the shield, throwing him off balance.

“Good.”

She grinned, and her dark eyes twinkled with excitement. “Easy. Try again.”

He kicked his leg out, sweeping her ankles. She began to fall, but it turned into a gravity-defying spin that landed her on her feet a few yards away.

Cain nodded his approval. “Your self-defense is decent, but there’s only so much I can do to you without risking damage. What I really need to know is how much firepower you have.”

“Give me something to destroy. A target—any target.”

He pointed toward the eastern edge of the clearing to where a dead tree leaned precariously to one side. “There. That tree.”

She pushed her chin in the air and started walking toward it. Cain grabbed her arm.

“No. From here.”

Her confident posture wobbled, but her jaw took on a defiant stance. “If I do it, will you take me with you to go hunt the demon?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether or not you’re still standing. You’re no good in a fight if I have to carry you.”

She pulled her arm away and gave him a hard stare. “No one has needed to carry me since I was a child. At least not until the night I met you.”

“Are you saying I made you weak?” Cain sent a bubble of energy through the luceria, reminding her that without him, she would have no power.

She shivered, but hid it quickly. Once again her jaw was tight with defiance, forcing her words through gritted teeth. “I’m not weak.”

“Prove it.”

He felt a sucking rush of power flow out of him with so much force it shook his frame. As the transfer occurred, a flicker of her emotions appeared, churning just beyond reach. She was furious that he doubted her. Terrified that she would fail. Determined to prove her strength.

A ragged scream poured from her mouth. Her fingers extended toward the tree as if she were throwing something at it. A second later, a whoosh of flames engulfed the trunk, turning it to ash within seconds.

Rory fell to her knees. Cain panicked and reached for her, but she jerked away. “Don’t.”

She panted there on the cold ground, holding herself up with her hands. Her body swayed, and it was all he could do not to reach out and steady her.

Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet. She stumbled to the side, but caught her balance before he was forced to grab her.

Her feet were braced apart. Her skin was ghostly pale. Both of her hands burned bright red with smudges of soot at the tips. She glared at him, daring him to make the wrong move.

“There,” she said. “Now let’s go.”

Cain hated himself for what he was about to do, but if she refused to acknowledge her limits, then it was his duty to force her to hit them. Hard.

“Sure,” he said. “Let’s get in the car.”

He started walking, and it took every bit of willpower he possessed not to turn around and help. He was halfway back to the house when he heard her hit the ground.

Cain stopped. He knew he should keep walking and prove to her that she wasn’t as tough as she thought, but he couldn’t leave her lying there or force her to crawl like some kind of beast. She needed him, and whether or not she accepted that fact, it was still a fact. Just like he needed her.

He turned and saw her trying to regain her feet. Her pink hair whipped around her face with the wind, giving him fleeting glimpses of her pained defeat.

He stopped in front of her. She stared at his boots, her arms shaking so hard he wasn’t sure how she held herself up. She wouldn’t lift her gaze any higher, as if she was embarrassed.

Cain crouched by her side, and tucked her hair behind her ear to keep it out of her eyes. Tears glittered there but did not fall—apparently held back by sheer will. Her bottom lip was wedged between her teeth so tightly he feared she’d draw blood.

He said nothing as he waited there, warring with himself over whether or not to touch her. The next move was hers, and it was not one he could make for her.

“Fire is hard,” she finally said.

“Looks like.”

“I really suck at this, don’t I?”

“Is that what you think?”

“I saw those women in your memories. I saw what they can do. They could go all day and hardly break a sweat. I burn down one dead tree and I’m about to fall over.”

“So what do you want to do now?”

“You think I should quit, don’t you?” Her voice was as cold and biting as the wind. “You think I should just sit around and wait for the big, manly men to save me.”

“You know me. You’ve been inside my thoughts. Is that really what you think I think?”

Her gaze met his, and he saw fear lurking there. And shame. “No,” she admitted. “I saw the things you want from me.”

“And?”

“They’re not the kind of things a weakling princess in need of a rescue would do.”

“Which brings us back to my previous question. What do you want to do now?”

She bared her teeth at him, and damn if it didn’t turn him on, just a little. “I want to be strong enough to fight, Cain. I want to get up off this freezing fucking ground and blow the hell out of some demons.”

He stood. “So get up.”

“Don’t you think I would if I was able?”

“You are able. You just can’t do it alone. Ask for my help.”

“Fuck you.”

He shrugged, and pulled a muscle trying to make it look nonchalant when every instinct inside of him was screaming for him to act. He didn’t like her down there, looking weak and helpless. He knew she had to be cold, and that grated against every instinct he had to care for her well-being. But this was important. If she refused to lean on him, it would get her killed.

His voice was as rough as frozen gravel. “Fine. Stay there.”

“You’re really going to make me ask?”

“I’ve helped you before without you having to ask, but I need to know if you’re even capable of asking.”

“I don’t need you,” she growled. “I don’t need anyone.”

He ached for her and everything she’d lost. His own losses had made him angry as well, but he hadn’t given up on others. Not like she had. Rory was so alone in this world—so alone she couldn’t even see any other way to be.

“Everyone needs someone. There’s no shame in that,” he told her.

“Says the man standing on his own two feet.”

“Only because of your quick thinking back at your house. If those demons hadn’t had your shield to slow them down, we’d all be dead.”

“Or worse,” she said, shivering in revulsion.

“Or worse,” he agreed.

“So you owe me?”

“If you want to keep score.”

She was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke, her voice was so faint the wind nearly stole it from him. “I’m cashing in, then. Help me up.”

It wasn’t what he was hoping for, but at least he was getting her off the cold ground. That alone was a huge relief.

Cain pulled her to her feet. Her whole body was trembling visibly. She wasn’t going to be able to stand, but he didn’t dare grate against her independence by picking her up. Instead, he eased her body against his, propping her up while he slid his arm around her body and cupped the back of her neck.

The two parts of the luceria connected with a spark. It cascaded through him, leaving a warm path as it went. He pushed a trickle of power into her, replenishing her strength. The fix was temporary, and he didn’t dare go so far as to make her feel completely recovered for fear of her pushing herself, but for now, it was enough that she could walk.

Rory stared up at him, her dark eyes searching his face for something he wished he understood. He wanted her to be happy, to fit into their world. He wanted her to accept him as her own before their time together was over.

He’d come a long way since the night he’d met her, when he was still angry at the world for stealing from him—stealing Sibyl and Jackie, killing Gilda and Angus. His pain had heightened his anger, blinding him to anything resembling a future.

But he could see one now. And the thought of losing it before he’d ever really touched it scared the hell out of him.

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