Saving Daylight

by Shannon K. Butcher

  After days of trying to reach the woman, Jackie gave up. She couldn’t keep witnessing her pain, cold and starvation without being able to do something to ease it. So, she moved on to another light and tried again.

  Jackie was now constantly distracted by thoughts of the snowbound woman. She couldn’t focus her mind the way she needed to in order to reach the lights. They glared in her vision, all but blinding her. They flashed and sparkled and taunted her, but she couldn’t zoom in on them and make them dim enough to see what was going on in the other locations.

  Every day ended with her too exhausted to do more than eat a meal and flop onto her cot. Sleep eluded her, both because of the noise and commotion of the shelter, as well as the lights dancing in her eyes, even when they were closed. The thumping kicks and stretches of her baby and the general discomfort of pregnancy didn’t help her relax, either.

  Iain walked the line between encouraging her to try again and making her rest. He was in her mind, so deeply a part of her that he seemed to know when she’d reached her limit before she did.

  Once, she’d been so distraught that he’d used compulsion to will her to sleep. It wasn’t the kind of thing she let him get by with normally, but in this case, she was glad he’d been so high-handed. It wasn’t until she’d woken twelve hours later that she realized just how much she’d needed the rest, how much her baby needed her to sleep.

  With her mind clearer than it had been in days. She decided to go back to the woman in the cabin and try something new.

  Instead of trying to locate her, Jackie was going to try to contact her.

  It took a long time for her to find a comfortable, relaxed state that allowed her to focus. But once she did, her consciousness flew through the air toward the cabin. Trees blurred by. She went up and down hills, following the contours of the land. Brown grass and trees gave way to silvery frost, then to gleaming white snow. She flew over a white expanse so flat that could only have been a frozen lake. A big one. Beyond that, she saw evergreens burdened with snow, their branches drooping heavily toward the ground.

  The cabin sat in the middle of a little clearing, still as shabby and small as she remembered.

  But now it was empty.

  The stack of firewood was gone. The woman had burned it all, leaving her no escape from the frigid nights.

  There were no tracks leading away from the cabin, though there were some slight indentations in the newly fallen snow that might have been footsteps. It was hard to tell what they were. All she knew was that the woman was gone.

  Worry flickered through Jackie. Where had the woman gone? Had she survived the cold, or was her body lying frozen on the ground, covered in snow?

  Jackie had no idea. All she could think to do was find the woman’s light again.

  She pulled back, flying up and outward to get a wide view of the countryside. That woman’s light was so bright, it should have shone like a star, even against the sunlit snow.

  But there was nothing. All Jackie could see was a glittering, frozen expanse.

  She withdrew farther. Perhaps the woman had found a road and a ride out of the area. Perhaps she was simply far away from here.

  A patch of red caught Jackie’s eye. The color didn’t belong here among so much white. It stood out like a bloody fingerprint on a clean, white countertop.

  Jackie drew closer to the spot, and as she did, her heart began to constrict.

  There were tracks in the snow—tons of them. They’d churned up the white all around, leaving deep furrows and scuff marks. In the midst of that mess was a swath of red as if someone had dragged a paintbrush against a blank canvas.

  It was blood. She could see that now clearly. There were splatters of blood all around and one body-sized path leading toward a cluster of trees.

  Jackie saw the woman’s light then. It was dim, barely a glow. It flickered like a flame blown too hard, in danger of snuffing out.

  Panic ignited in Jackie’s chest. Her baby gave a hard thump against her bladder, as if punishing her for the surge of adrenaline.

  In her mind, Jackie followed the bloody trail to where it ended behind the trunk of a pine tree.

  The woman sat there, slumped against the tree. She was covered in blood. Her skin was starkly pale beneath the red splashes and smears, almost the same color as the snow all around her.

  One of her legs was missing below the knee. She’d tied off the stump with a torn length of plaid flannel, but blood was still slowly seeping out from the open wound.

  There were deep claw marks dug into her torso and arms. The fluffy padding of her coat was soaked with blood. In her gloved hand was a pocket knife covered in black blood.

  She’d been attacked by a Synestryn. Their blood was on her knife, proof that she’d fought back. But it hadn’t been enough. The demon must have taken off her leg and dragged it away when it fled from the sunrise—a meal to feast on until nightfall, when it could come back and finish the job.

  The horror of what was happening raged through Jackie’s body like a storm. Her limbs shook with fury, with helpless, hopeless frustration.

  She was supposed to help these women who didn’t know what they were—didn’t know the magic they possessed. She was supposed to find them and bring them home, where they could be treated like the rare treasures they were.

  She’d failed so utterly her heart could barely stand the strain.

  Iain’s warm, comforting presence filled her like a hug from the inside out. He was with her in her thoughts, and holding her body, though she felt so distant from that now, she could barely feel his touch.

  The woman’s eyes fluttered open. The light shining from her flickered faintly.

  She was dying.

  Let her go, came Iain’s deep voice in her mind. You’ve done all you can. Let her go.

  But Jackie hadn’t done everything. There had to be some way to save her, some way to find her and send in the troops to rescue her. All she needed was a Sanguinar to heal her and stop her bleeding.

  She’s been poisoned, Iain said. She’s lost to us. Let her go.

  Jackie could see then that he was right. A sheen of sweat covered her pale skin, despite the blistering cold. There were dark streaks running through her veins. When her eyes opened once again, there was no clarity in them, only fevered confusion.

  She was dying.

  Come back to me, Iain said.

  I can’t. I need to stay here with her. She shouldn’t have to die alone. It’s the least I can do after failing her.

  Iain’s response was slow to come. Then we’ll both stay.

  He held her as the woman’s light faded, then as it winked out.

  She was dead.

  She’d died alone in the cold because Jackie had failed.

  “It’s not your fault,” Iain said, and this time his words were in her ear. He’d dragged her essence away from the woman and planted her firmly back in her body.

  The feeling of being anchored by flesh, of being held down by gravity was odd. It took her a moment to remember how to move again.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt deep despair, as if she’d lost a dear friend. Even though she hadn’t known this woman, even though she didn’t know her name or where she was from, they were still sisters. They were both Theronai, only Jackie had been lucky enough to have found Iain, rather than facing the demons alone, terrified and powerless.

  She knew how that felt. She knew how horrifying it was to know you were going to die by the teeth and claws of monsters.

  Only she’d been lucky. She’d been rescued.

  “I have to find a way to save them,” Jackie whispered through a throat tight with tears. “I’m running out of time.”

  “You need to rest. Then you can try again.”

  “No!” she nearly shouted. “No more rest. These women aren’t resting. They’re in danger. If I don’t find them, then more will die the way that poor woman did. I can’t let it happen again.”

  If she did, sh
e knew she’d never recover from the guilt.

  She had to save them.

  Jackie put her hands to her belly to hug the child inside her.

  Sibyl had warned her that she would have only until her daughter was born to find these women. After that, the power of the life growing inside of her would be gone and there’d be no hope.

  She was so tired. So defeated.

  Iain’s black eyes softened between blinding blobs of light. His voice was calm, reassuring. “You’ll find them, Jackie. I know you will.”

  His confidence in her was humbling. She only wished she could be as optimistic.

  “Borrow mine,” he told her. “I have enough confidence in you for both of us.”

  She loved him for that—for the way he always said the right thing to make her feel better. He kept her strong, gave her hope.

  “There’s still time,” he said. “We’ll just try again.”

  Jackie nodded, not trusting her voice. She didn’t want him to hear it tremble and break. She needed him to keep believing in her so that she could keep going after so much failure.

  A moment later, she felt a hot rush of liquid spill from her, soaking the soft maternity pants she wore.

  Shock settled into realization.

  Her water had broken. Her baby was coming.

  Whatever time she had to find these women was now nearly gone.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Morgan raced as fast as he dared toward Link’s last known location. He’d never really liked the guy, but he was still Morgan’s brother-in-arms. That meant something.

  Almost as much as the bond he shared with Serena.

  His lifemark was still bare. The colors in the luceria still swirled in an angry storm of reds and pinks. Their bond wasn’t yet permanent, but there was no way to know how much time they had left before it was.

  He’d intended to break things off this morning, but then he’d heard that Link was missing, and knew the timing was wrong. If they were going on a rescue mission to find a missing man, Serena needed to have access to Morgan’s power. And Morgan needed to be free of pain so that he could fight.

  It had taken three hours to reach the coordinates Joseph had given them, and in that time, Serena hadn’t said a word. He’d felt her tentative poking at their connection, as if trying to read Morgan’s mind, but he kept her blocked out completely.

  He didn’t want her to know that he’d failed her—that he’d convinced her to choose the wrong man. And now Link was missing. If he died, there might not be anyone else who could offer her his power.

  Morgan prayed the man was still alive.

  Cutting his ties to Serena would mean he’d go back to living a life of pain, but what choice did he have? He couldn’t call himself an honorable man if he was only staying with her to save his own life.

  What about hers? She deserved a man who could give her everything she needed. And a woman as sweet as her needed to be loved.

  Femi had always said that Morgan’s love for her was like the air she breathed. Without it she would perish.

  Could Serena be any different?

  He honestly didn’t think so.

  “Turn here,” she said, pointing to a gravel road with no sign. She was following the map on her phone, navigating as he drove. “It’s the only way to get to the coordinates.”

  Morgan took the turn, and as soon as he cleared the next hill, he saw sunshine gleaming off the hood of Link’s rental car.

  They pulled up alongside his vehicle, but he was nowhere in sight. Through the windows, they could see his cell phone sitting on his dash. He hadn’t taken it with him, which meant either he didn’t want to be followed, or he didn’t think it would work wherever he was going.

  “Are there any known caves around here?” he asked Serena.

  She unrolled her stack of maps and found the one for southern Missouri. It took a moment to locate the right place.

  “There’s a cave entrance a few hundred yards away,” she said.

  Now Morgan knew what had happened to Link. “He went hunting in that cave.”

  “Do you think he saw something?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. How long ago since anyone last heard from him?”

  “Yesterday,” she said. “He must not have made it out yet.”

  “He’s been in there too long. We have to go in after him.”

  “I agree.”

  “You need to be prepared,” he warned her.

  “For what?”

  “Either a rescue, or a recovery. I’m not sure which it is yet.”

  She nodded once, brief and pragmatic. Then she stepped out of the truck and gathered her gear from the back. As she stripped out of her oversized coat and tightened her sword belt over clinging leather clothing, she said, “You’re going to have to stop shutting me out. I don’t know what’s going on, but we can’t afford to have anything standing between us right now. Seconds count.”

  She was right. He didn’t know what she might see if he opened his mind to her, but there really was no choice. Link’s life was on the line.

  He lowered his defenses and hoped she wouldn’t go poking around in his head. If she did, and saw that he would rather walk away than doom her to a loveless life, she was only going to get hurt.

  Then again, no matter what she did, pain was likely her fate one way or another. He only hoped he wouldn’t be the one to inflict it.

  ***

  Andra wasn’t sure how much longer she was going to be able to hold this forcefield. She’d been working for days, drawing power from Paul to keep a shield around Lexi and Zach so that she could repair the wall while he fed her power.

  Watching the small woman work was amazing. Her dainty features were calm, almost placid, though Andra knew she had to be exhausted. After all, she’d been working for two weeks longer than Andra had—since the walls had fallen.

  She stood inside the film of blue light no thicker than the skin of a bubble. Her hands moved in a slow, almost sinuous movement. Her eyes were closed, but she seemed to be able to see the stones clearly.

  Zach knelt beside her. His fingers dug into the cold earth, connecting him to the source of his power so that he could gather it up and funnel it into his wife.

  With each flick of her wrist, another chunk of broken rock moved from the pile of rubble to the exact spot in the wall from where it had fallen. Both giant sections as well as grains as fine as sand moved at her guidance, sliding into place like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Inch by inch, the physical barrier was reconstructed until the surface gleamed like it had been polished.

  Then, when the section of wall was whole, Lexi would lay her hands on the smooth surface. Zach would slide his left hand around the base of her neck until the two parts of the luceria merged to ease the flow of magic between them.

  Lexi would bow her head. Her pale brow would crease in concentration. Strands of soft, brown hair would lift from her shoulders as if electrified. Then the very air around her would change. Andra could smell the shift, filled with the scent of freshly-tilled soil and ozone. She could feel it buffeting her skin like tiny sparks. The temperature around them would warm, the air would grow humid and thick.

  Then, after Lexi had gathered up enough energy, she would release it into the wall in a sudden burst.

  The sound of rock grating, shifting, locking into place was deafening. Entire sections of hard stone would shrink slightly as if being compressed by some invisible machine. The surface of the wall would grow glossy and impossibly hard. Then, when it was all over and the shimmering cloud of energy around them dissipated, the wall would continue to sing in cracks and pops as it solidified even further.

  Once this was done, Synestryn would avoid the completed section, as if they knew they couldn’t break through. Or, perhaps, they feared to touch the newly empowered structure.

  Lexi had just completed yet another ten-foot section of wall.

  Zach caught her as her knees buckled and she sagged toward the
ground. He gathered her into his lap, both of them panting and shaking with effort.

  In those vulnerable moments, Andra’s shield was the only thing keeping the two of them alive.

  Hungry demons pounded at her forcefield with rusty, blunt weapons. Andra felt each blow vibrate through her body as she struggled to keep the glowing, blue shield in place.

  Now that the section of wall was done, Paul guided her toward the couple sitting on the ground so she could shrink down the size of the protective bubble to reduce the strain of holding it.

  When it was just big enough to hold all four of them, she was finally able to breathe again.

  “Sorry,” Lexi said in a breathless, weary voice.

  “Don’t be,” Andra managed. She tried to stay strong, to remain outwardly confident that she could do this job for as long as it took.

  Inside, she wasn’t so sure.

  “They’ll have to rest soon,” Zach said to Paul.

  The two men had become so close over the past few days that they rarely needed to say more than a few words. Their movements became choreographed and streamlined, both men of the same mind.

  Neither was going to let anything happen to the women they loved.

  Around them, beyond the shimmering blue wall of light, lay devastation and chaos. Daylight demons were everywhere. No matter how many of them they killed, there always seemed to be more marching on the horizon.

  They crawled out of nearby caves by the dozen to lope over the ground on long, gray legs. Their bodies were hairless and disturbingly sexless. No one knew where they came from or how to stop them. They were a constant flood of danger over the landscape leaving devastation wherever they went.

  Things weren’t going well. Every day more Theronai were injured. As their bodies grew weary from weeks of constant fighting, they became slow and clumsy.

  For the first few days, Andra had watched the battle play out, wincing every time one of their own took a hit. She ached to extend her magic to surround them and take the blows so they didn’t have to, but her promise to Joseph stayed her hand.