Willing Sacrifice

by Shannon K. Butcher

  Her tone was a cold, hard warning. “Injure her in any way—any way—and I will end your world. Do you understand completely?”

  Torr nodded again, the simple motion somehow laced with cold fury.

  “Good. Then speak again, and choose your words carefully, as if each one were a poisoned blade aimed at your heart.”

  “I gave you my word,” he said.

  Brenya nodded, as if that was all she needed to hear. Then she shuffled out of the hut, her steps slower than they’d been this morning.

  “She’s weak,” said Torr, his deep voice an alien sound to Grace.

  There were no men here, and she literally could not remember the last time she’d heard a man speak. She knew she had, just as she knew she’d eaten strange foods that she couldn’t name and had seen objects that didn’t exist here in her new life.

  “She nearly killed herself bringing me back from the dead,” said Grace. “She’s been weak ever since.”

  Torr stilled to the point that she couldn’t even see his chest move with his breath. His voice was quiet, as if he didn’t want to say the words aloud. “You were dead?”

  “I must have been. It’s the only thing that explains why so many of my memories are gone.”

  “Is that what Brenya said? That she brought you back from the dead?”

  “No, she said she remade me, but I think that’s just her way of saying the same thing. She talks funny sometimes. Not that it really matters exactly what she did to me. I’m alive, and it nearly killed her getting or keeping me that way. I’ve been here four years and she still suffers from what she did for me.”

  “Four years? How is that possible?”

  “One day after another. Isn’t that the way it works where you’re from?” she asked, teasing in an effort to lighten his mood.

  “Of course. That’s it,” he said, as if figuring out a great mystery. “Time moves slower where I’m from. What seems like months to me is years to you.”

  “You’re from Athanasia, too?”

  He blinked as if surprised that she knew about the other worlds connected to this place. “No. I’m from Earth.”

  “That’s where Tori is from.”

  Instant recognition lit his face. “Is Tori okay?”

  Grace nodded. “She keeps to herself. Hunts a lot. But she seems healthy, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Has she hurt anyone?”

  Loyalty forced Grace to evade his question. The people Tori had injured had forgiven her, so it was Grace’s job to do the same. Besides, Tori hadn’t willfully injured anyone in a long time, even though it was obvious from the look in her eyes that she’d wanted to.

  “Do you know her?”

  “A little. Enough to know she’s dangerous.”

  “She’s the best hunter we have—brings in more food than all the other women combined. I’d never want to be the one to make her mad, but she protects us. On the way here, I heard the women talking about how she saved one of our children from the creature you killed.”

  “The little blond girl,” he said, as if answering his own question. “Maybe you can take me to see Tori. I’d like to say hello.”

  “Maybe. Like I said, she’s out hunting a lot. She may not still be around. How long will you be here?”

  “A while, I hope. I’d like to spend time with some people here.” There was an odd quality to his voice, like he was somehow aiming that remark at her.

  “Can you open portals like Brenya?”

  “No. She was the one who brought me here.”

  “Then I guess it’s up to her how long you stay. But if you ever want to go home, I suggest you be nice to her.”

  “That was my plan, but for the sake of curiosity, what makes you say that?”

  “I don’t remember much about my life before, but I’m certain I’ve never seen anyone who can do the things she does. She knows everything I do, everything I say. I swear, sometimes it feels like she’s inside my head.” Grace sprinkled some powder into a bowl. “Have you ever heard of anything like that before?”

  “I know a few people who are connected like that—powerful couples who are united in a way I can only dream about. They’re the lucky ones.”

  She waved him back to the bed, urging him to sit. “Then I guess it’s not as strange as I thought. I haven’t exactly been allowed to get out and see much of the world.”

  “Grace, are you a prisoner here?”

  She poured clean water over the powder and set the bowl of disinfectant next to the bed. “No more than anyone else. We don’t roam far except to collect what we need. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Because of creatures like the one I killed?”

  “They’re dangerous, yes, but not nearly as scary as the new things that have started lurking around at night.”

  “What kind of things?”

  She used a cloth to clean blood and dirt from the wound on his head. His skin had already healed shut, leaving behind more mess than damage. She tried not to get distracted by his vivid eyes and the way they never left her, but that was easier said than done.

  His whole body was a distraction, from the beautiful curve of muscle and bone to the intriguing images he wore. She’d seen the crescent shape on his arm before on others, but that tree spanning his chest was new and yet somehow familiar. All she wanted to do was stroke her hands over him until the mystery he presented was solved.

  The same was true with the iridescent band that hugged his throat. It was supple enough to cling to the contours of thick muscle and tendon, yet it looked delicate, almost feminine. A mass of color swirled lazily along the silvery surface, drawing her stare.

  “Grace?” he said, pulling her attention back to his question, “what kind of things do you see at night?”

  She blinked a couple of times to refocus her attention. “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen all of them, just these strange ridges along their backs. One of the Athanasian women from the village to the south was killed a few days ago. Brenya seems to think it was these creatures who killed her.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Brenya says they were sent to find her but couldn’t see her in the daylight.”

  Torr shot up from the bed, easing her away from him so he wouldn’t plow into her. “When does the sun go down?”

  “Which sun?”

  He stared for a second, then nodded, as if making a mental adjustment. “When is it dark?”

  “Soon. Why?”

  “I need to speak to Brenya.”

  Grace stepped around him and placed herself in front of the door. His big body towered over her, but she held her ground. Brenya needed to rest, not answer the questions of a stranger. No matter how much Grace wanted to cower or flee, she wasn’t budging until he understood that. “She’s too tired for visitors, especially ones who look as furious as you do. Besides, I’m not done cleaning your wounds.”

  “My wounds aren’t important. Your safety is.”

  “Our safety depends on me following orders, and I was told to tend to your wounds. You can’t ask me to defy Brenya, not after what she’s done for me. Please. Sit back down.”

  He let out a long breath of frustration but eased back on his heels. He didn’t sit down, but at least she wasn’t going to need to grab him to keep him here. Though she had to admit that putting her hands on him held massive appeal.

  “If you won’t let me talk to her, then you tell me,” he said. “How do you defend yourselves?”

  “Brenya has put up barriers that keep the creatures out at night. So long as we stay inside the village, we’re safe.”

  “The demons can’t get in?”

  “Demons? Is that what they are?”

  “It’s likely. Can they get in?”

  “No.” At least they hadn’t yet. Grace still wondered how long Brenya’s magic would hold if she became any weaker.

  “Then how did that woman get killed?”

  “She disobeyed orders and went outsi
de the perimeter after dark. Everyone knows that’s against the rules.” Speaking of orders, Grace still had hers. Torr wasn’t going back to the cot on his own, so it was up to her to get him there.

  She gathered her nerve and pressed one hand against his abdomen in a silent order for him to back up. Beneath her fingers, his muscles clenched. His amber eyes darkened, and the strangest look covered his face—something between hunger and need, something she’d never seen before. At least not that she could remember.

  Torr backed up until his legs hit the cot. With her hands splayed over his broad, smooth shoulders, she pushed down. He gave in and sat, but grabbed her wrists before she could back away.

  His hold was careful but absolute, shackling her wrists in his long fingers. “You need to let me talk to Brenya. A perimeter won’t hold them forever.”

  Delicious heat glided up her arms. She had to try twice to find enough air to speak. “How do you know?”

  “Experience. Someone has to go out and kill them.”

  He meant himself. Grace could see it in the way his eyes narrowed, as if he were already planning an attack.

  She didn’t want him to risk himself. Of course, she never wanted any of the women to take risks either, but it was different this time—personal in a way she couldn’t explain, even to herself. “You’re still injured. If you want to fight the Hunters, you can talk to Brenya about it tomorrow when she’s rested. Until then you need to let me do my job.”

  His jaw was set with determination, and she knew that if she didn’t do something soon, he was going to push past her and do whatever he wanted.

  “Please,” she said, not even caring if she sounded like she was begging. “If you let me finish my job, then when you’re feeling better, I’ll take you out to find the Hunters. I’ll show you the trail I saw and where I think they might be coming from.”

  He shot to his feet again, a look of fury tightening his mouth. She expected him to yell at her, but his voice was calm enough to chill her bones. “You got close enough to see a trail?”

  The urge to turn and flee pounded through her, but she breathed through it, trusting that Brenya would never have left her alone with someone who would hurt her.

  “I’m not sure, but I think so. All the leaves and branches were sliced clean, as if something had cut right through them. A Hunter is the only thing I know of that could do that.” When she spoke, her voice shook a little. Not that it would have helped if she’d sounded rock steady. She was sure he could feel her frantic pulse pounding where he gripped her wrists.

  “Does Brenya know what you saw?”

  “Not yet. I just found the trail today and was on my way back when I heard the screams.”

  “When the lizard attacked,” he guessed.

  She nodded. “It’s too close to dark to go out today, and I won’t let Brenya down. You need to stay and let me do my job.”

  He stared into her eyes for a long minute before he spoke. The whole time his thumbs kept stroking the skin of her inner wrists. “If it were anyone but you I’d already be out that door.”

  She didn’t know what he meant by that, but she wasn’t about to question his change of heart.

  He let go of her and turned. Right in the center of his bare back was a flat metallic disk just like the one embedded in her skin. In the very same spot.

  Surprise and curiosity flooded her, knocking all good sense out of her head. She rushed forward and grabbed his shoulders to hold him still while she studied it.

  Intricate markings covered the surface. She wasn’t sure if they were merely decorative or if the symbols meant something. As her finger glided over the warm metal, she felt a tingling sensation flicker across her spine. It was gone so fast she questioned if it had ever happened.

  “Where did you get this?” she asked.

  He was silent for so long she wasn’t sure he was going to answer. Then, in a low voice filled with sadness, he said, “It was a gift from a woman I loved.”

  A tiny spurt of jealousy flashed through her, leaving behind a greasy film of shame. She had no business feeling envy over women Torr had known. Not only that, but it was clear from his tone that the woman had caused him some kind of pain. Maybe she’d betrayed him, maybe she’d left him. Whatever the case, she’d hurt him, and here Grace was thinking only of herself.

  “I have one just like it,” she said. “But I’ve never seen it up close before. It really is pretty.”

  “Where did you get yours?” he asked. There was something strange about his inflection, but she couldn’t figure out what.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Really? Seems like the kind of thing you’d remember.”

  “I don’t really remember much of anything before Brenya brought me back to life.”

  “Have you tried?”

  “Of course. I spent months working to regain my memory, but whatever bits are left, they’re more like echoes.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s hard to explain. It’s almost like all those things were scooped out of me and all that’s left is a kind of emotional residue that couldn’t be completely removed. Sometimes I see tiny glimpses, but there’s no context. I feel things, but have no idea why.”

  “Do you remember any people?”

  “No, but I remember loving them, laughing with them.” Hiding from them, cowering in fear.

  She didn’t want to think about that, so she turned her attention from the disk to the surrounding male flesh. Slight bruises lingered along his back, maybe where he’d fallen or been hit. Trails of dried blood and caked dirt led from the lower edge of the disk toward his singed blue pants.

  She picked up the cloth and wiped away the mess, revealing puckered scars where the prongs of the disk entered his skin. She traced the marks with her fingertip, and his whole body clenched.

  She gave a sympathetic wince. “Sorry. Does it hurt a lot?”

  “No. Does yours?”

  “Not exactly.”

  He turned, putting his chest at a level with her gaze. That magnificent tree clung to his skin, tempting her to spread her fingers over the branches.

  “What do you mean by that?” he asked.

  There was a smudge of dirt along his ribs, and she used the excuse to touch him and wipe it away. He truly was a beautiful creature, and even though the damp cloth muted the feeling of his skin, she could still sense the firm resilience of the flesh below.

  His scent surrounded her, and that nagging feeling of familiarity called to her again. She was certain she would have remembered a man like him. Even if she hadn’t, surely he would have told her if he’d known her. Still, there was something about him that tugged at her senses.

  Then again, she’d heard some of the visitors talk about the men they’d met, how handsome or charming they were. How they’d been chosen as mates for their strength or intelligence. Maybe all men had this kind of effect on women, and she was just experiencing it firsthand.

  “I feel things sometimes,” she admitted. “I’m sure they’re coming from the disk.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “It’s personal.” Sometimes, when she was lonely, she imagined those feelings coming from a friend—someone like her, not like everyone else here. She wasn’t beautiful like the Athanasian women and their children. She didn’t have magical powers. She was physically weak. She wasn’t even in training the way the little girls were. She wasn’t strong enough to survive their fierce mock battles.

  She was different from everyone here, and while they all treated her well, she knew she wasn’t one of them. There were no talks of her going on an exciting trip to fulfill her destiny. As far as she could tell, no one here even thought she had one.

  Maybe that was for the best, because the idea of walking away from the only world she knew was terrifying. But some days the loneliness was hard to bear, and the feelings coming from the disk helped remind her that she wasn’t ever really alone.

  Torr’s voice dipped
down until it was a low, quiet temptation. “Tell me, Grace. I want to know.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m sure you have the same feelings, too. Unless I’m imagining the whole thing.” Which she hoped wasn’t true.

  “Do you feel angry? Sad?” he asked.

  He felt the same thing? Relief washed over her, and until this moment, she hadn’t realized just how much she worried that she was making it all up. “So I’m not imagining it.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “If I’d known . . .”

  “Known what?”

  He paused for too long. “If I’d known how much talking about this would upset you, I never would have brought it up. I’ll just sit here and be quiet so you can do what Brenya asked.”

  Thank goodness. The sooner she was done with Torr, the sooner she could find a quiet place and try to figure out what it was about this man that sent her emotions rioting.

  Grace pulled in a long breath, forced herself to put on a smile and went to work.

  Chapter 5

  Torr had been hurting Grace for years.

  That was the thought that kept scrolling through his mind, over and over.

  That anger and sadness she was feeling? That was all his. The disks they wore connected them. They allowed her to heal his paralysis by taking it upon herself. But her human body had been too weak to fight off the magical poison the demon had used on him. Only Brenya’s magic had saved Grace from the fate that had awaited Torr. And now the magic that bound them together—the connection the disks formed—was feeding her all the pain and fury he’d felt since she’d nearly died to save him. Four years ago.

  He had to find a way to make it stop.

  By the time Grace finished cleaning him up and left, dusk had fallen over the area. He slipped out of the hut while she went to get food for him.

  Sneaky, perhaps, but necessary.

  He asked a little girl where he could find Brenya. Her bright eyes were wide with curiosity as she pointed to a larger hut on the far side of the clearing, just past a giant Sentinel Stone. There were fewer runes on it than on the ones he was used to seeing, but the carvings were just as intricate. Like all Sentinel Stones, this one radiated power. As he neared it, he began to recognize that power as the same he felt humming through Brenya.