STEP (The Senses) (45 page)

Rayn
e grunted as her shoulder took the impact of the unrelenting floor. Bones cracked and her vision hazed over in agony. She swore under her breath as she supported her shoulder and crawled to her feet.

“Christ
, Rayne,” Kilter shouted as he tried to get to her, but was unable.

Liam gripped Abby to his chest. She was coming to, her head shaking from side to side.

Damien broke a leg off a chair and went for the vamp who’d deterred him from going after Abby. There was no hesitation as he pierced the guy’s chest with the wooden leg
.
.
A shrilled scream echoed then abruptly ended as Damien pulled a small knife from his boot and slit it across the vamp’s throat.

Damien turned to Abby and Liam, his face a mask of fury.

Liam backed away from him, Abby as his shield. Neither were paying attention to anything but one another. Rayne saw her opportunity. She grabbed the knife that had slid under one of the overturned chairs and crawled to her feet. She took several deep breaths, knowing she’d need every bit of strength in order to make this work.

“
When I put my hands on him, take Abby,”
Rayne said.

“
No. Get out of here before I have to save your butt too,”
Damien said, his tone menacing. He kept his eyes locked on Abby and Liam.

She came up behind them.
“I’m doing this, so be ready,”
Rayne warned. She heard Damien shouting at her to stop, but she ignored him as she ran at Liam.

Liam must have sensed her coming up behind, but not in time. Her knife was meant to go in the middle of his back, but his slight movement sent it off its mark and
it went into his side. Regardless, it was enough and his grip faltered on Abby.

Damien leapt, pulling Abby away and quickly calling his Scar. “Simian. Now.”

Rayne got a glimpse of Damien’s Scar as it took a magnificent form and wrapped its protective warmth around Abby.

Rayne held her arms around Liam as if they were welded to his body. The knife wound
might have made him falter, but his strength was immeasurable. He swung her from side to side, trying to dislodge her while his fingernails dug into her arms. Ignoring the excruciating pain in her shoulder, she closed her eyes and called on her ability.

Liam’s emotions were red-hot fury and they hit her with the force of a Mac truck. The intensity gripped her mind, bleeding her thoughts of goodness and sucking out everything except the anger. She could feel him growing weaker, the confusion in his steps as he stumbled, the pain in her hands from his fingernails lessening. She was winning.

Rayne screamed out as a burning sharp pain shot through her lower back. Her grip wavered, and Liam took full advantage by jerking his elbow back and slamming it into her jaw. He spun around and pushed her to the floor.

She landed on her stomach with the wind knocked out of her. She reached around to her back and felt the object of the agony. Blood thick and warm slid over her fingers. The hilt of a knife was imbedded in flesh. She couldn’t move.

Liam’s eyes darted around the room and from the look on his face, he knew he was going to lose the battle. His face scrunched up and he hissed, revealing his long white fangs.

Damien’s head raised and his telepathy went to every Senses in the room.
“Liam’s going for Rayne. Two seconds. I’m not close enough, damn it.”

Liam took the final step, leaned forward and grabbed her by the neck with one hand
, ending her inhalation. Her hands went instinctively to his fingers, clawing at him as he lifted her off the ground.

His head jerked to the right where Waleron appeared in a sudden swirl of gray mist.

Liam laughed a high-pitched tone that sent shivers down her spine.

Her air was running out.

Her strength fading.

“
Kilter . . .”
Rayne’s eyes hazed over and she lost consciousness.

Kilter saw Waleron Trace in front of Rayne and Liam
, while he felt like he was running through quicksand trying to get to her. It seemed like every single, body, table and chair was purposely in his way. He faltered and nearly went to knees when he heard Rayne’s words in his head.

Rayne,
he begged as she left his mind. No. He couldn’t survive without her. He wouldn’t survive.

Liam and Waleron were at a standoff
, and Kilter knew that the selfish vamp wouldn’t want to die without taking Rayne with him.

Kilter threw a chair out his way. Goddamn it, she was not going to die. He’d never allow it. Never.

Waleron had to act now. Why was he hesitating? He could blast Liam with energy, but he didn’t.

“
Waleron, blast the fucker.”

“
She is too close,”
Waleron replied.
“It is too risky.”

“
What’s your deal? She’ll die. Blast him and I’ll grab Rayne. Rip his bloody head from his shoulders.”

Kilter was surprised by Waleron’s indecisiveness. Their Taldeburu fought steady and calm with resilience and unfathomable authority. He never hesitated. Ever. Even if there was a chance of harming one of his own. Because Waleron knew the consequences for indecision. They all did.

The problem was that Waleron had never had another soul in his life that was his own blood. No kin. No wife. Not even a bloody dog. But now he had a daughter.

Rayne was Waleron’s child. Even he had trouble swallowing the idea.

Kilter leapt over the last obstacle in his path.

Ten feet away. Nine feet. Eight feet.

“Now. Damn it,”
he shouted at Waleron.

Waleron shoved his hands forward towards Liam’s side. The bolt of energy sideswiped Rayne on her arm
, making her body jerk, and sank into Liam’s chest.

They both crashed backwards from the momentum
of the bolt of energy. Kilter slammed his fist into Liam’s face and hauled Rayne from the vamp’s death grip.

He glanced at Waleron and gave a single nod. Waleron grabbed Liam by the neck, his eyes flashing the same red hue as a vamp
’s in bloodlust. There was no hesitation this time as Waleron’s hands cracked Liam’s neck, then with one jerk, ripped it from his shoulders.

“Waleron
, we need Anstice ASAP. Can you Trace and bring her back?” Kilter leaned over Rayne, pulling her limp body onto his lap while being cautious about the knife still plunged into her back. He didn’t dare pull it out until Anstice arrive. Her heartbeat was slow and her breathing shallow. She was pale. Way too pale. “Waleron, damn it. Anstice. Now.”

Kilter took off his shirt and put it around her as he held her against his own body heat. “You live
, damn it. Do you hear me?”

Was she still breathing? Was that her heart or a muscle twitching?

No. Not now.
She was his breath, his soul, his every existence. The woman who’d shown him the path to redemption, the broken woman who’d fought her way back from a horrible eating disorder to become strong and healthy. It was not her time.

“He can’t do that,” Delara said
, coming up beside him and kneeling on the floor. She swept her hand over Rayne’s brow. “He can only Trace with me.”

“I don’t give a shit what he can and can’t do,” Kilter shouted. “What I need is a goddamn Healer. Now.”

“I can,” Edan said.

Kilter jerked his head up at the sound of the un
familiar voice. He’d only met Edan a few times in his lifetime, but Edan was difficult to forget. The power and magnitude emanating from his body was impressive. What the hell was a Wraith doing in this fight? They only involved themselves if a Senses had broken one of their draconian laws.

The Wraith put a hand on Delara’s shoulder and squeezed. Kilter realized why the Wraith was here—he’d been protecting Delara. “I’ll return soon.” He swirled in a cloud of red dust
and disappeared from sight.

Kilter pulled Rayne closer to him
, trying to give her body his warmth. He kissed the top of her head and murmured soft words of love over and over again. Delara was crying, holding Rayne’s hand while Waleron stood hovering over them like a shield. A shield from what, Kilter couldn’t guess. The CWOs had disintegrated then reformed to whatever harmless insect they’d been before robbing the body they stole from whatever grave.

Jedrik, Keir and Tye were busy chopping heads of
f dead vamps and setting them on fire. If their bodies were left intact, their wounds could heal, then all this fighting would’ve been for nothing.

Balen approached them, his expression worried and uneasy. “Waleron. A problem.” He gestured to the far side of the
room. “Simian won’t let her go. Damien has lost complete control of him.”

Waleron dragged his eyes from Rayne and glanced to the source of the problem. “Have T
alu contain them, but don’t do anything. They are not to leave the premises.”

Balen nodded and took off.

It took all of ten seconds before Edan was back with Anstice, who became a general as soon as she assessed the situation.

“Waleron
, get a table upright, pronto. Kilter, I need her lying on her stomach so I can deal with the knife wound first. Delara, your emotions are too distressing and that’s detrimental for a Reflection. You can’t be near Rayne right now.”

Delara stumbled back
, her hand to her mouth as she nodded, then turned and walked away. Edan watched her go and his eyes turned to Waleron. Neither moved nor said a word. Then just as abruptly, Edan spun on his heel and followed Delara, catching up to her just before the door. Delara pushed him away. Edan said something, then his figure swirled into red dust and vanished.

Waleron had the dining room table upright again
, and Kilter lifted Rayne up in his arms and set her down on the hard surface as softly as he could. He swept Rayne’s hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ears.

Anstice put her hands over the wound while Kilter continued to stroke her brow. She raised her head and gave him a questioning look
; he ignored it. He knew she hated healing when others were touching the wounded, since they would see and feel exactly as she did—the pain and horror of the how the wound occurred. She also knew when to keep her mouth shut.

Anstice’s hands glowed a soft yellow hue as they hovered over Rayne’s wound, eyes closed and her body jerking and then rocking back and forth. Kilter felt the sting of the blade just as Anstice did, but it was still nothing compared to what Rayne had suffered. He kept his hand on Rayne’s forehead, subtly stroking with his palm, needing the touch of their sk
in merged as one. He felt as if . . . if he let go, then Rayne would, and that was not happening.

Anstice moved her hands over the rest of Rayne’s body
, and already Kilter could feel the warmth seeping back into her flesh.

Anstice gave him a smile.
“She’s very lucky, Kilter. She’ll be fine.”

He breathed a long sigh of relief and leaned forward to touch Rayne’s lips with his own. “You’re stuck with me, babe.” He raised his head and met Waleron’s cold
, unfeeling eyes. “I hope you heard that because she is mine.”

Waleron said nothing.

Abby watched Damien pace back and forth, his eyes every so often locking on her and Simian. Balen’s Scar Talu matched his steps as if a shadow, except this shadow could kill with one leap. Simian was protecting her from the Senses and she knew why. She was one of them, the ones Jedrik and Tye were at the present moment burning to a crisp. An enemy. Liam might be toast and she was free from his commands, but that didn’t change the fact that she was a vampire and had the ability to change water into blood.

She was a vampire. D
ead and returned ageless and immortal. And she hated it. Alone without a single soul she could turn to. Her coven had abandoned her and it made sense, she was too dangerous. Senses killed her type. It was simple—she could not exist as she was. And she didn’t want to.

She was logical when she had to be, but it sucked and she preferred to be impetuous
, like when she picked up Damien in the grocery store then had sex with him all night and into the next day.

God
, Damien, what have I done?

Sudden thirst shot through her and she felt Simian’s hands clamp down on her shoulders to keep her in place. He seemed to sense when she was fighting her body.
With Damien giving her his blood, it had calmed the blood rage, letting her mind become sane again, but the thirst remained. It always would.

She raised her head and looked at Damien
, who clenched and unclenched his hands while he paced like a feral caged animal. He kept glancing at her, running a hand through his hair, the corners of his eyes curved down, to match his mouth. But it was the expression he held, concern . . . no, it was fear she witnessed in the depths of his eyes.