Saving Daylight

by Shannon K. Butcher

  It hadn’t been fucking. It wasn’t just sex. It was more. Too much more.

  He tried to lie to himself and say it meant nothing—that it was simply a merging of the flesh—but the truth was too glaringly obvious for that nonsense.

  What they’d just done was far too sweet, and it had been all his fault.

  A woman needed to be treated with gentleness and care. Serena deserved no less. Sure, she seemed to like it when he was rougher and more demanding, too, but she was a complex woman with a variety of needs. It was his job to satisfy all of them.

  Except one. He wouldn’t love her—he had promised himself that he would never again open himself up to that kind of risk—but love was the one thing a woman as amazing as Serena deserved more than anything else. It was the one thing that mattered most. Possibly the only thing that really mattered.

  Morgan summoned Femi’s beautiful face in his mind as he always did when he had a complex problem to solve. She’d been wise beyond her years, and had a knack for cutting to the heart of the matter. She’d always given him good advice, and after her death, he still turned to her memory to guide him.

  What would Femi tell him to do?

  He could picture her easily, her big, dark eyes framed in thick lashes, and her sweet, lush mouth that was an endless source of pleasure. He saw her at all ages, from the innocent girl she’d been when they’d met, to the wizened crone he’d held as she died. All of her incarnations had been beautiful and kind and filled with so much love he had no idea how to hold it all.

  Still, she had no answers for him this time, no wisdom, no encouragement. Just silence, as if he’d done something unforgivable.

  Morgan had bound himself to a woman he would never love, and until now, he hadn’t realized what a huge betrayal to Serena that really was.

  Morgan had to let her go. If he didn’t, her kind, loving nature would get the best of her and she’d fall for him. He could already see the signs in her face, the same soft smile that Femi had given him—the one filled with womanly secrets and unspoken dreams.

  When he refused to return Serena’s feelings, she’d start to resent him. That resentment would fester and grow until they were no longer able to function as a bonded pair of Theronai should.

  Not only would he be putting her life at risk, but also the lives of everyone who depended on them to be strong and competent in battle with no barriers between them.

  As Morgan stepped into the shower to wash away all signs of what they’d just shared, he felt a warm, comforting presence in the back of his mind, telling him everything was going to be okay.

  At first, he thought it was Femi’s memory strengthening him, but then he realized how wrong he’d been. That peaceful brush across his mind was Serena, filled with concern for him. With affection.

  He cared for her too much to let her go down this path with him. She was an amazing woman, worthy of so much more than he could give her. And that meant he had only one course of action.

  Pain or not, loneliness or not, death or not, Morgan had to let her go.

  ***

  Serena felt Morgan shove her out of his mind with a single, unyielding push.

  What they’d just done had left her shaken. Him, too.

  She’d tried to reassure him that she wasn’t upset that sex had veered toward something deeper than a mere physical outlet, but her connection to him wasn’t strong enough to break past his resistance.

  She was left feeling adrift, alone as she’d been in her prison. Cold.

  Something was definitely wrong, and she had no idea how to fix it. She didn’t even know what the problem was. Perhaps his sudden coldness had nothing to do with sex. Or maybe she’d done something wrong.

  Before she could march into the bathroom and ask him what was going on, her phone rang.

  Joseph’s name appeared on the little screen. As soon as she answered it, she could hear worry tightening his tone.

  “We have a situation,” he said.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Link Tolland has gone missing. He’s not answering his phone.”

  The news unsettled her, but there had to be some kind of mistake. “He was on his way back home when I last saw him. He’s probably on an overseas flight and not answering his phone.”

  “He never got on his flight home. His people tracked his phone to a location in southern Missouri, but it stopped sending a signal several hours ago. We don’t know if the battery went dead, or if he went somewhere with no cell service. Possibly underground. He was alone, Serena.”

  Now she understood Joseph’s worry.

  Her throat squeezed, making it hard to get out the words. “I…I rejected Link and bonded with Morgan. Do you think Link was staying in case I changed my mind?”

  “First of all, congratulations. Morgan is a great choice. Second, if you think Link was going to give up on a chance to be free of his pain that easily, then you don’t understand what it’s like for our men. My guess is he was going to stay until all hope of a union with you was lost.”

  Guilt gripped her tight, until it was hard to breathe. “This is my fault.”

  “You can only pick one man, Serena. Someone was always going to get hurt. That’s not on you. That’s just the way things are.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one responsible for leaving a man in torment, facing certain death.”

  “You can’t dwell on that. One of our own is missing, and you and Morgan are the closest people we have to his last known location. I don’t want anyone leaving the shelters right now. We need all the swords we can get here at Dabyr. We’re fighting off daily attacks on the stronghold and can’t spare any firepower to go on a manhunt.” He pulled in a long, weary breath. “Any luck finding the source of those demons?”

  “We’re calling them daylight demons, and no. We’ve had no luck, but we’ll keep looking.”

  “I’m going to send you Link’s last known coordinates. Go there first, try to find him.”

  “Of course.”

  “But if you can’t, we’ll have to assume the worst. We don’t have time for an extended manhunt right now. You have to find that source, understand?”

  “I do,” she said, irritated that he felt as though he could order her around. “But I also understand that Link is here because of me. I’m not going to leave him behind unless I’m sure there’s no chance of finding him.”

  “We’re running out of time, Serena. You have to…” Joseph went silent for a moment. She could hear shouting in the background, along with the sounds of distant combat. Guttural screams mixed with rough shouts of warriors slicing through their enemy.

  They really were running out of time.

  “Use your best judgment,” he said. “But remember what’s at stake. Remember what Sibyl said. I have to get back to the fight.”

  “I’ll remember,” she promised. And she would. There were too many lives at stake for her not to take her job seriously.

  “And Serena?”

  “Yes?”

  “You could not have chosen a stronger, more honorable man than Morgan to be your partner. Don’t let guilt over what’s happened to Link ruin what you could have with Morgan. It’s too precious to waste.”

  Joseph hung up, leaving Serena feeling utterly alone again. When Morgan stepped out of the bathroom, barely sparing her a glance, that feeling didn’t change.

  The truth was clear on his face.

  Whether they stayed bonded or not, Morgan would never truly be hers.

  ***

  Link was well and truly fucked.

  He wasn’t just stuck in this cave, tied up, nearly blind, injured, weak and bleeding, surrounded by demons as clever as dogs. No, it was worse than that. He was here for a purpose. Some creature with a mind and a plan had brought him here.

  How did he know?

  Because he’d passed out not long after the gray demons had started screaming. Their voices pounded at his concussion until his mind finally checked
out to avoid the noise.

  When he’d next woken, he was still in the same place, tied up and dangling, but someone had cut off his shirt, removed the chunk of rusty metal from his side, bandaged him and healed the wound enough that he hadn’t bled out.

  Whoever had him here wanted him alive, and the list of things they’d need him for that didn’t include using him as food, was very, very short.

  His rattled brain could only think of one reason to keep him alive.

  He was going to serve as bait for a bigger prize.

  To die down here, alone and in pain was bad enough, but to bring others here to die as well…he couldn’t tolerate the idea. He had to find a way to get free, before it was too late.

  There were fewer of those gray demons surrounding him now. Most slept in a pile on the far side of the cavern. Three lounged beneath him, but with no more blood to seep from his wounds, they’d grown bored and fallen asleep as well.

  Perhaps it was daytime, when all Synestryn grew weaker and sluggish.

  If so, this was his only chance to escape. Only the red-eyed demons could follow him out in the daylight, but there had been only a few of them present. If he could make it back to the cave entrance, wherever that was, he’d be safe—at least until nightfall. By then, he’d be back in his rented car, driving toward the safety of the closest gerai house.

  Slowly, so he didn’t wake the creatures around him, he craned his aching neck to see how he was trussed.

  Thick, rough rope bound his wrists in several loops. That rope led upward and over the edge of a rock outcropping. He couldn’t see any farther so he didn’t know if someone had levered him up here, off the ground, or lowered him from the rocks above.

  Either way, he was in the same position—dangling well over ten feet from the hard ground and the hungry demons sleeping beneath him.

  He thought if he could sway back and forth enough times, he might abrade the rope until it broke. Yes, that would mean landing on top of creatures who wanted to eat him, without the use of his weapon or—very likely—his arms. He couldn’t feel much past his aching shoulders, and guessed that it would be a while after he was released before feeling, and use of his limbs, returned.

  And where did that leave him?

  Back to square one—well and truly fucked.

  A low humming sound came from one of the openings into the cavern.

  Link closed his blood-caked eyelashes until only a slit remained. He couldn’t see much, but at least he wasn’t totally blind.

  The hum grew louder. As it did, the sleeping demons began to stir.

  They rose to their feet and backed away as someone else entered the cavern.

  The creature walked on two legs, had a head and two arms, but that was where its resemblance to humans or Sentinels ended. It was grotesque, wearing only a loincloth so that Link could see every disgusting detail of its body. It had bulging patches of extra flesh on its joints that didn’t belong. Its skin was a reptilian texture, the same gray as the demons that backed away in reverence. Its head was mostly bald, with too much skin hanging from it. Past its thin lips, Link could see pointed teeth. At the end of each of its gangly arms were three fingers, two with extra joints that made them eerily long.

  As Link stared, he realized that there was an uncanny resemblance to the ugly creature and the demons that surrounded it, bowing low in reverence.

  They let out a strange hum that grew louder as the seconds passed.

  That’s what Link had heard earlier—the sound of demons greeting this monster with reverence.

  Maybe he’d been hit on the head harder than he’d thought. He’d never heard about behavior like this, much less witnessed it—not even on this continent.

  The hideous, fleshy beast lifted a disfigured hand, and instantly, the gray demons fell silent.

  “I know you’re awake,” the thing said, slurring his words through pointed teeth. “I smell your fear.”

  Link opened his eyes as much as his gummy lashes would allow. “That’s not fear,” he said. “It’s disgust.”

  The creature stepped closer, seemingly immune to insults. “I am Vazel. In time, you will learn to respect me.”

  Vazel pointed at one of the demons, then at the rope holding Link aloft. The gray Synestryn scampered out of sight, and a few seconds later, Link was lowered to the ground. It wasn’t a gentle landing, but he hadn’t been dropped altogether, at least.

  He landed in a clumsy heap, unable to control his fall. He tried to protect his head, but the cost was something popping out of place in his left shoulder.

  Pain radiated out from that spot, so intense he thought he’d vomit. He breathed through his nose until the urge passed, but knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

  Vazel planted a fleshy, stinking foot on Link’s chest and pressed down hard enough to make a cracked rib break clean through.

  More pain exploded through his body, leaving a sickening echo behind.

  He’d screamed, he realized. That horrible, wrenching sound was his own voice bouncing off the cave walls over and over again.

  “Stay,” Vazel ordered.

  As if Link had a choice. He couldn’t even breathe yet, much less stand.

  Over his shoulder, Vazel called, “Come, Mordecai. It’s time for your lessons.”

  Link didn’t think this situation could get any worse until he saw Mordecai.

  He was a child—a toddler, wearing nothing but a diaper made from dingy rags. He sucked on his index finger as he crossed the uneven cave floor as easily as if it were smooth carpet.

  Link’s heart jammed up in his throat, cutting off his air completely.

  This wasn’t a demon child. He was far too beautiful for that. He had dark eyes, dark hair, and while a bit dirty, seemed to be completely healthy.

  “Whose child is that?” Link demanded.

  “Mine,” Vazel said easily. “I delivered him myself, though sadly, his mother didn’t survive.”

  Link had to get this baby away from the demon. Nothing else mattered now but that.

  He caught the boy’s gaze. “Come here, Mordecai. I won’t hurt you. I’m a friend.”

  “You are food!” Vazel boomed.

  All around them, furless, gray demons began to bow and hum.

  The child didn’t even flinch. He was clearly use to such outbursts.

  “Enough!” shouted Vazel. And then, in a calmer tone, “Ignore your food, son. Remember what I taught you.”

  Mordecai looked at Vazel, then at Link. His chubby face was somber, accepting.

  He toddled over to Vazel and held out his tiny hand.

  The grotesque monster gave the perfect child a small, sharp knife.

  Mordecai crossed to Link, so close he could smell his innocence—that subtle, hopeful scent that only babies possessed.

  His pudgy fingers gripped the knife. They were barely long enough to reach all the way around the handle.

  “What are you doing?” Link asked Vazel, both confused and disgusted.

  “Teaching my son how to eat, as any good father would.”

  Mordecai’s eyes were empty of emotion. They held no fear, no curiosity, no excitement. Whatever Vazel had done to this child, he’d stripped him of every normal human emotion he should have had.

  Perhaps he wasn’t human at all.

  Mordecai climbed up onto Link’s legs so he could reach his bare chest. He placed the short blade over the empty branches of his lifemark and pierced the skin over his heart.

  Link flinched, more from surprise than pain. He couldn’t get his head around what was happening.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Link told the child. “Cut my ropes and I’ll get you out of here. We’ll leave together. I’ll take you home to your parents. Your real parents.”

  Mordecai stopped cutting, but didn’t remove the blade. His empty, dark eyes met Link’s and stared.

  Blood trickled down Link’s chest. The demons in the room began to bristle and salivate at the smell.
<
br />   “I’m sure your mommy and daddy miss you. Let me take you to them.”

  Link was certain the child understood him. He didn’t know how he knew, but there was no question that the boy had absorbed his words.

  Vazel took one step closer. “Your food is trying to trick you, son. What do we do with tricky food?”

  Mordecai plunged the little blade in as deep as it would go, then pulled it out. As Link watched in horror, the boy covered the wound with his mouth and began to drink Link’s blood.

  “That’s my clever boy,” Vazel said with pride ringing in his tone. “His blood will make you grow up big and strong.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Jackie worked for days trying to figure out how to pin down the location of the lights—of the women who emitted them.

  For days, she went back to the woman in the cabin, hoping for a clue as to where she was, hoping she would leave and Jackie could follow her home.

  Instead, the snow grew deeper. The woman stayed where she was, drinking melted snow to stay alive and burning her dwindling supplies of wood whenever she was too cold to stand the shivering that shook her starving body.

  Once, Jackie had watched her cry. Fat, helpless tears had streamed down her cheeks, reminding Jackie of the first few months she’d spent in captivity. She’d been a prisoner of the Synestryn, used as food and as a caretaker for the children they tortured. She’d spent two years away from the world, in the dark, in complete despair. She’d watched so many children die, their small bodies too weak to stand what had been done to them.

  She’d spent countless nights sobbing until she was too exhausted to lift her head. Her tears had been silent so the children couldn’t hear, but they’d racked her body with physical pain and left her weak and dehydrated.

  Those were the kind of tears the woman in the cabin shed.

  Jackie wondered what she’d seen, experienced or done to leave her so desolate.

  Her heart ached for the woman. All she wanted to do was go to her and pull her into a tight hug, to tell her that everything was going to be okay.

  But she couldn’t do that. She didn’t even know what country the woman was in. The USA? Canada? Definitely somewhere cold, somewhere far north.