Serena recoiled. “How did you know we’re compatible?”
“I was in your mind as I healed you.”
“You fucked with her head?” Morgan roared.
He shoved out of the truck, letting go of the tourniquet.
Blood flowed back into her numb limb, warming her flesh in a rush as it went. She could barely feel her lower leg, but she knew that when she finally could, she would wish she couldn’t.
Briant stood and raised his hands to ward off the bigger man’s approach. “I only touched her mind enough to make sure there was no other damage. While that may seem intimate or intrusive to you, it was nothing more than a routine examination to me.”
Stinging wasps began attacking her leg from the inside as blood flow returned. She eased out of the seat, cringing at the way her spilled blood glued her to the leather.
She stood between the two men, balancing on one leg. “We don’t have enough blood between us to shed even one more drop. Cease your bickering and behave like gentlemen.”
“I’m no gentleman,” Morgan growled. “It’s one thing to poke around in my head, but he should know better than to read your mind. It’s none of his fucking business.”
“He saved my life, Morgan. Shall we call it even?” she suggested.
Briant shook his head in disgust, sneering at Morgan. “The next time someone you care about is bleeding to death, call a different healer. I’m done.”
He went into the house, stomped out through the front door and started his van.
After a long minute, after Briant’s van pulled out of the driveway, Morgan let out a long, weary sigh. “I was a bit of an ass, wasn’t I?”
“More than a bit,” she agreed.
“If I wasn’t covered in blood, I’d go after him. Apologize.”
“Use your box. It can apologize for you, right?”
“My box?”
“Your cell.”
“You want me to text him an apology?”
“No. What I want is to shower off this blood. But I think you owe him one. All he did was try to help, apparently at great cost to him. You saw how tired he was, how thin? He’s starving.”
Morgan shook his head. “You’re right. I’ll have my box apologize to his after I get you inside.”
She couldn’t feel anything but hot needles in her leg, which put her off balance.
Morgan wrapped his arm around her waist to help steady her, and the moment his hand made contact with the bare skin beneath a tear in her fighting leathers, all her pain vanished.
He froze as though he felt it too. Someone groaned in bliss, but she couldn’t tell if it was him or her. Perhaps it had been both of them.
“You feel amazing,” he said.
So did he. She didn’t know what magic his touch possessed, but it was potent. Overwhelming.
She looked up at him. Though flecks of blood had dried on his face, she still enjoyed the sight of him. He was darkly handsome, but there was more to it than that. Lots of men were handsome and couldn’t hold her interest.
Morgan was…intriguing. She wanted to stare at him for hours until she’d memorized every line in his face and every golden splinter in his brown eyes.
As she watched, his pupils flared wide. “Bond with me, Serena. Tap into my power and use it to keep yourself safe.” His throat moved as he swallowed. “I can’t stand the idea of you coming that close to death again. What if you’d passed out and hadn’t been able to hold the magic slowing your bleeding?”
She still wasn’t sure how she’d been able to stay conscious. If not for the sparks of his power flowing into her skin, she probably wouldn’t have.
Whatever the case, she owed him her life. She had no desire for a partner, but maybe this was the best way to protect her freedom.
“Let me think about it,” she said. “I need to get clean and eat something. Then we can discuss it.”
Hope brightened his expression, making him even more attractive than he’d been a moment ago.
How was she ever going to stop staring at him?
“Whatever you want,” he said. “It’s yours.”
That’s when Serena finally realized the power she held. His life was in her hands. All she had to do was figure out what terms she could live with and demand that he meet them.
They moved through the small house, doing their best not to leave a mess behind them. The pathway from the garage, through the kitchen and down the hallway to the bedrooms had wooden floors. Their bloody footprints would wipe up easily enough.
As they passed through the main room of the house, she saw plush, leather furniture in a scale grand enough to fit even Morgan’s large frame. The bedroom on the right was dark, but the bed was neatly made with the covers turned back in invitation.
She so wanted to climb into that bed and sleep until her pain faded and all the big decisions in front of her were made.
She was so used to her mother making all the big choices in her life that it was hard to remember that she was now in control. Gertrude Brinn no longer called the shots. She didn’t even have a voice, which was both a blessing and a curse.
It would have been so easy to simply go along with whatever her mother thought best, as she was raised to do. Even though Serena knew she wouldn’t be happy, at least she could blame someone else if things went wrong.
Now that she was making her own decisions, the only person she’d have to blame was herself.
By the time Morgan had helped her to the bathroom, the sharp sting in her leg had reduced to an annoying buzz.
This room was small but tidy. There was no tub, only a shower just big enough for her to raise her arms to wash her hair. The space was tiled completely from top to bottom—clearly for making it easy to wash away the blood that would inevitably spill here.
The white and gray tile shower gleamed, inviting her to rid herself of the mess she wore and scrub herself from top to bottom.
Maybe once she was clean her world would seem clearer, her decisions easier.
Morgan released her, flinching as their contact ended. He made no complaint about the agony she could see clearly on his strained features. He didn’t use his pain to make her feel guilty or to push her to hurry. He simply accepted the pain as his duty, and backed away.
“I’m going to clean up in another bathroom, then find something for us to eat,” he said. “Take your time.”
That gift of time was exactly what she needed. She didn’t know how he knew that, but she was grateful for it all the same.
She had a lot of thinking to do.
From the front of the house, she heard a door slam shut. Morgan was by her side. Someone or something else was here.
She froze. This house was supposed to be warded to hide the smell of their blood from demons, but there was no way to know if those wards still held. There was so much blood on their skin and clothes. Her shoes slurped with every step from the pools inside them.
Morgan drew his sword and rushed from the bathroom whispering a quick, “Stay here.”
She bristled at his order. Typical male Theronai, all overprotective and demanding.
Serena was no child to be ordered around.
She drew her weapon and followed him down the hall. Before she reached the living room, she heard Link’s voice, loud and frantic.
“I know she’s here. I know she’s hurt. Where is she?”
“Serena is fine. You have no business being here.”
“Bullshit. I have more of a claim on her than you do. Now get out of my way!”
Serena saw the two men facing off, swords drawn, teeth bared.
This kind of thing was never going to end well. She had to stop them from hurting each other.
She stepped in between them, still limping from the buzzing numbness in her leg.
Link eyed her up and down, taking in her tattered leathers and the blood covering her body. Horror widened his blue eyes and made the gaunt hollows under his cheeks sink deeper. “What the bloody hell
happened to you?” His gaze flicked to Morgan, and narrowed with anger. “You let this happen to her?”
“He didn’t let anything happen. I went into that cave on my own. If not for Morgan, I’d be dead,” Serena said, giving Link a hard shove. Cold, sharp spikes of power bit into her at the contact. As much as she hated the sensation, she could feel the quick burst of his energy flow into her and buoy her lagging strength.
His power wanted to be a part of her, to find a home inside of her.
No matter how weak she became, she didn’t know if she would ever get used to the harsh angles his energy bore.
Link’s face flushed an angry red. “If you’d taken your rightful place by my side, this never would have happened.”
She lifted a brow at him. Her tone was pure challenge. “Because I would have been able to use your power to defend myself, or because you never would have allowed me to go into a fight in the first place?”
He wrapped his fingers around her arm. “We’ll discuss that properly later. Right now, you’re coming with me.”
“You can’t take her out there covered in blood,” Morgan said. “The smell will call every demon within miles.”
“Not to mention the fact that I refuse to leave,” Serena added.
Every second he touched her, more of that biting power flooded her. She tried not to let the discomfort show on her face, but she’d already been through so much tonight, she wasn’t sure how well she was hiding it.
“You’re hurting her,” Morgan growled, his tone a clear threat of violence. “Let her go.”
Link did as he asked, and the moment he did, he doubled over in pain.
A pang of sympathy for him shot through Serena, but she didn’t dare touch him again.
She knew these men suffered. She knew the power they carried was a heavy burden to bear, and that the pain often made them desperate.
She also knew she couldn’t save both of them.
Serena tried to forgive Link for his actions, but even if she did, he’d only let her down again. He was fighting his own nature, and not likely to win the battle.
She took a long step back on shaky legs. “I’m going to shower the blood off. You two are not going to kill each other while I do.”
“I’m not leaving you alone with him,” Link said, glaring at Morgan.
“He would never hurt me,” she said, though she had no idea why she felt the need to defend him.
But what truly shocked her was that she believed what she said. Morgan had proved he was willing to protect her with his life, even without his vow to do so forcing him to act. He’d been ready to guard her escape while she ran from those demons. He had no idea she was able to manipulate time. As far as he knew, he was going to die down there in that cave so that she had a fighting chance of surviving.
Link must have seen something in her face, because his posture deflated and he let out a long sigh. “I know you don’t like me, Serena, but we would make a good match.”
He pulled out the yellowed paper and tore it in half.
“I release you from the contract your parents made with me,” Link said. “I’m not the man your mother wanted you to think I was.”
That surprised her. “Then who are you?”
“Let me show you. Spend some time with me. Get to know the real me, not the man your mother wanted to believe I was.”
Serena understood what he meant then. Gertrude Brinn had a way of judging people even before she’d spoken to them. She placed a high value on appearance and status, as well as public opinion. She was always looking for a way to elevate her standing among her peers. If tying her daughter to a man could do that, then that’s what she’d do.
But what if her mother had been wrong about Link? What if he was more than his social standing and the opinion of others? What if, beneath his arrogant, presumptive exterior he was a good man?
He must have seen her indecision, because he said in a soft, almost pleading tone, “All I ask is for a chance to show you that we belong together.”
Of all the things he could have said or done to sway her, he’d landed on the only one that made her rethink her choices. Before this moment, Link had no chance with her. But now that he’d torn up that contract? Now that he’d pleaded with her for a chance?
She wasn’t sure. There was too much at stake for her to make a hasty decision. Not only was she choosing a partner, she was also very likely sending one of these men to their death.
Serena looked both men in the eyes and said, “Give me some time to consider.”
***
Morgan wanted to pick up the torn remains of that contract and shove it in Link’s mouth. Every word he spoke was swaying Serena to his side. It was like the man knew exactly what words would soften her.
Morgan couldn’t let that happen. He needed her too much to let her go without a fight.
So far, silence had been his ally in dealing with her. He acted, letting her see the man he was, rather than trying to bully her into agreeing to something.
She’d had more than enough of that from Link.
But now, here the man was, doing and saying the right things to sway her.
Power seethed behind Morgan’s lifemark, making the branches of his tree whip wildly. A sharp, stabbing pain ripped through him, and it took all his willpower not to cry out.
Another leaf fell from his lifemark, putting his soul one step closer to death. There were only three left now, when he’d started with thousands. Three little leaves stood between him and death.
He pressed his hand to his chest, grieving for the time he’d just lost.
How much time did he have left? Months? Weeks?
He didn’t know, but one thing was certain—Morgan wasn’t going to be able to continue his duty to protect those weaker than himself without Serena by his side. His days were numbered. If Serena didn’t choose him, he was going to have to find some way of giving his death meaning—maybe follow those furless, gray demons back to their nest and take it out with a huge pile of C-4.
Morgan held no grudge against Link, but there was only one Serena. Only one of them could be saved by her.
Didn’t Morgan deserve that as much as any other man?
His lungs stopped working as he realized the truth. Maybe not. Maybe he didn’t deserve her as much as Link did.
Morgan knew he would never love Serena the way she deserved. His heart belonged to Femi, and always would. Sure, he and Serena could be partners. They would be fantastic lovers, of that he was certain. They could even have children. But without love, her life would always be hollow. He knew because that’s how his was now, without Femi.
He couldn’t do that to Serena. She deserved so much more than what he had to offer.
“It’s okay,” he told Serena, meaning every word. “I won’t make you choose. If you want Link as your partner, you should have him. I won’t stand in your way.”
With that, he turned and left the room. Once he was clean, he’d hit the road so at least he wouldn’t have to witness her binding herself to another man.
Besides, he had work to do. His brothers needed him and he needed to find an honorable way to die. With the battle raging at Dabyr, he doubted his quest would be hard.
Chapter Thirteen
Serena said nothing after Morgan left. She simply walked away and locked herself in the bathroom. As she stood under the hot shower spray, she marveled over the invention.
So much in her life had changed, and it was about to shift again, just when she thought she’d gotten her feet under her.
She wanted to be angry with the men for upsetting her world, but all she could manage was confusion.
Anger had been Serena’s only true friend during her two centuries of incarceration.
Before her mother’s betrayal, she’d been carefree and easy-going. Those girlish traits had taken a long time to die, and when they finally passed, the only companion left to her was her anger.
It, at least, had never once left he
r side.
When she thought she’d go mad with boredom, fury would come play with her. When hopelessness left her drowning in despair, rage would come buoy her up and breathe into her lungs. And when her heartbreak threatened to consume her, anger swelled within her until she was too big for her pain to swallow.
Over the decades, she’d learned to love her anger—cultivating it so that it kept her going, day after day, year after year.
She was back in the real world now, surrounded by real people and real distractions. She wanted a relationship with those things, but anger was a jealous lover and refused to let her go.
Why then, could she not find it now, when she needed it so much?
Was it because she’d gotten her way? Both men had backed off, leaving her to decide her own fate—something she hadn’t been raised to know how to do. Her mother had made every important decision for her, and now she found herself missing that guidance when she’d hated it for so long.
There was too much at stake. She didn’t feel capable of issuing a death sentence on either man, which was, in essence, what she would be doing by choosing between them.
As the last of the blood was washed down the drain, Serena decided that she needed some help, or at least someone she could speak to about her dilemma.
There was only one person she knew who might have the answers.
Serena dried off and dressed in drab clothing she found hanging in the closet. Nothing sparkled or made her heart pound, but it was clean, dry and not coated in blood.
She locked the door to one of the bedrooms and made the call.
It took her two tries to use the device. She’d only ever received calls before, but she’d been shown what to do in case she needed to call for help.
Deciding her fate definitely qualified.
Sibyl Brinn answered with a soft, “Hello?”
“It’s Serena.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Of course, you do. Your ability to see the future was why I called.”
Sibyl let out a small laugh. “That wasn’t magic. I simply read your name on my phone’s screen.”
“Oh.” Now Serena felt foolish.
Saving Daylight Page 11
