STEP (The Senses) (46 page)

Something inside her broke. It was as if the dam holding back her emotions suddenly gave way. The desolation crumbling her insides into bricks weighing her under. It was him. All this time. He was what had kept her alive and sane for so long. Every
day she had fought against Turning because she craved his face each morning. Needed his touch. The way he rested his hand on her head. How his heart sped up beneath her palm when she laid her cheek on his chest. The way he looked at her, afraid to touch her lest he couldn’t stop.

Tears filled the corners of her eyes, spilled over the lids and trickled down her cheeks. Her head lowered and she felt the soothing caress of Damien’s Scar on her lower back. He knew. He knew how she felt.

Anguish smothered her like a wool blanket. Images of him giving her his blood. The sacrifice he made when he knew it was against the Senses’ codes. His sacrifice for months on end. What she had done to him during the nights.

Their baby. Their loss.
“Abby.” Waleron strode past Talu, who snarled but quickly lay down with a whine, and stopped within two feet of her and Simian.

She wiped the tears with the back of her arm and looked up. It was time. She saw Waleron’s expression—grim and displeased with the task set before him. But they both understood why. She had no intention of being kept in a cage like a wild zoo animal.

She reached up and placed her hand on Simian’s cheek. “I must go with Waleron,” she said.

Simian allowed her to turn around to face him, but he had yet to completely let her go. She leaned close, standing on her tiptoes as she whispered to him, “Look after him, Simian. Listen to him. You must go to him now. He wants you to go to him.”

Abby kept her back to Damien as Simian changed and disappeared into the string of light that linked him to Damien. Waleron came up behind, and the smell of his blood was a strong reminder of why she’d walk to her death. Why she’d told Waleron that this was the path she wanted.

She swallowed several times before she could form words. “I’m ready,” she said. Kind of, she thought. No, she’d never be ready, but being childish and stomping her feet at the situation she’d put herself in was not dignified. She wanted Damien to remember her with dignity and pride.

“Ready for what?” Damien asked as he strode closer. Talu followed, snarling. He stood in front of her and Waleron.

Abby kept her head lowered and her eyes hidden. He’d know. He’d see it in her face.

“Ready for what?” Damien demanded. He went to grab her arm and she jerked back. The memory of his blood on her lips was causing enough thirst to drive her into a frenzy, and one touch would have her at his throat like a rabid animal.

“Damien,” Keir said coming up beside them. “She has chosen this. Christ
, man, I’m . . . sorry—”

The anguished half roar, half sob ripped through the air as if it would tear apart every soul within its reach. He made another grab for her, but Waleron yanked her out of his reach
, and Keir and Talu took him to the floor. Jedrik, Balen and Tye came running.

“Don’t go,” Damien shouted with a ravaged voice. “Abby, don’t go.”

They surrounded Damien, holding him down as he fought like a madman. The sound of scuffling feet, grunts, the distinct sound of fists hitting flesh. She could hear his devastated cry as he tried desperately to get free.

“Abby.” This time his shout was a long drawn
-out cry. “Jesus, Abby, don’t leave me.”

She choked on a sob, her fist to her mouth, teeth clamping down on her skin. She kept walking.

“Damn it, Waleron. Don’t take her from me. She’s . . . she’s all I have.”

She glanced at Waleron, but his face remained impassive to Damien’s pleading.

“Abby.” There was a loud grunt and Balen muttering a string of curses. “Abb, damn it, I love you. I goddamn love you,” Damien shouted.

She staggered, her legs buckling and she nearly collapsed. Waleron grabbed her arm and pulled her up.

Damien. Don’t do this. Please,
she pleaded over and over.

“Waleron, let me die with her. Goddamn it, take me too,” Damien yelled at Waleron. She heard his voice quiver, knew he was turning to desperation.

I love you more than anything,
she silently cried.
More than my life. This is the only way.

She did this for both of them.

Waleron squeezed her arm. It was almost . . . reassuring.

Tears streamed down her face and this time she didn’t bother to wipe them away. She peered up at the Taldeburu. “
Tell him the truth. Tell him why I drank Liam’s blood. About my mother. Why I did it. Promise me you will do this . . . promise . . .”

“He will hate you for lying to him.”

“Yes,” she replied. “It will be better that way.”

He g
ave a single nod. “Perhaps.”

She
glanced over her shoulder. Damien’s image was hidden behind the Scars and Senses surrounding him. All she could hear were his tortured cries. Waleron released her arm but waited for her to continue walking.

“Goodbye
, Damien,” she said in a choked whisper.

Damien’s roars of unadulterated torment exploded into night. Her step faltered at the threshold.

Breathe.

Don’t look back.

She raised her head and walked out into the darkness, her executioner right behind.

Rayne sighed, stretched her limbs and opened her eyes
, feeling as if she’d just slept for a solid twenty-four hours. She bolted upright when she didn’t recognize where she was, then it all came flashing back like a spark of electricity.

“About time.” Kilter stood on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall. He strode towards her and she had the sudden urge to laugh at his hair. It was sticking up in all the wrong places as if he’d been yanking at it for several hours. “I thought I’d have to wait another century for you to wake up.”

Rayne smiled and raised her brows. “And would you?”

“Well, of course I damn well . . .” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You’re teasing and fishing for compliments.”

“I am not,” Rayne said, feigning abhorrence at his insinuation.

Kilter lowered his frame to the bed and gently stroked the side of her face with the tip of his finger while she smoothed his unruly hair. “You scared the living hell out of me, baby. Don’t do it again.” He sighed and softened his voice. “How do you feel?”

“Brain still swimming with all that happened, but . . . Abby.” The last she remembered was Damien grabbing her. “What happened to Abby? Liam?”

Kilter scowled
, taking her hand and squeezing it, fingers caressing. “Waleron killed him then took Abby.”

She saw the remorse in his eyes, something
she hadn’t expected. He cared. She leaned into him, her head resting on his arm. “But Liam is dead. Abby was safe.”

Kilter wrapped his arms around her, his hand resting on the small of her back. “She asked it of Waleron. Abby didn’t want to live that way. She’d always be hunted by vamps, never
be free.”

She remembered the girl
, so haunted and alone, eyes red-rimmed with bloodlust. She chose death rather than fight for some semblance of life. She could sympathize why Abby had taken that route; she’d once been down a similar path.

“And Damien?”

“He lost it. I would assume Waleron put him in Deep Sleep until they decide what is to be done. For now, he’s contained. It’s probably better that way.”

“Kilter
, I hate this, the fighting, the abilities. I hate worrying if your life could end. I’m not cut out for being a Reflection. I’m not cut out to be your Taldeburu’s daughter.”

Kilter was silent as he nestled down beside her
, put his hand on her head and guided it to his chest. “Babe, you went after Liam, with a knife. You’ve never fought a battle like last night in your life. We, all of us, have lived for centuries. We’ve been trained to fight since we were children. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.” He paused and kissed the top of her head. “Rayne, you’ve fought your own battle, which many have lost. That alone is strength of who you’ve become. Waleron and Delara are truly gifted to have you as their daughter.” He tightened his arm around her shoulders. “Despite your foolishness last night—” he gripped her chin and made certain she was looking at him, “—which you will never do again, I am very proud to call you mine.”

Rayne smacked his arm teasingly. “Yours? That
’s a little arrogant and presumptuous, isn’t it?”

He tweaked her nose with his finger, but his fierce scowl remained. “I am arrogant and presumptuous. I make no denial of that. But make no mistake
, babe . . . you’re mine.”

She wanted to be angry and wipe that smirk off his face, but she liked his words. She loved this man, loved that he
’d cared for her when she was a skinny rake who had no confidence and was filled with anxiety. She adored that he’d read a book to try to help her when the entire time she was shoving him away. His persistence. His faith in her. His trust in her.

But one thing separated them—his way of life. The violence. The enemies. The unknown. She knew she had to continue to build her own self-worth, to maintain her therapy sessions. Fighting vampires, CWOs and having her heart in her throat every single time Kilter walked out the door, afraid he wouldn’t return . . . she didn’t want that. Wasn’t ready for that. She was uncertain if she’d ever be.

She stroked the underside of his jaw, loving the stubble under the pad of her fingers. She felt his love for her, knew the truth in his words. “I will always be yours, Kilter. As you will forever be in my heart. I love you but—“

He frowned as he interrupted, “There is no goddamn but.”

She bit her lower lip, looking away. He wouldn’t allow it as he grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him. “I stabbed a person, Kilter. And then I used my capabilities to try and kill him.”

“He was a bloody vampire
who was going to kill you,” Kilter retorted. He went to get off the bed when she grabbed his hand and pulled him back down.

“I don’t want that life, Kilter. I’ve been trying to escape it my entire life.”

“You would leave me? Waleron and Delara? You’d give up those who care about you?” Kilter’s tone lowered, “I will look after you. We all will. You won’t have to fight as we do. I can protect you, Rayne.” He cupped both cheeks in his hands, thumbs caressing her skin. “Please baby, you have to trust me.”

She leaned into his hand, closing her eyes. This
was why she’d do it. Why she’d risk everything. “Kilter, you mean the—”

He jerked from her grasp and leapt from the bed
, running his hand through his hair as he paced back and forth. “So you’re leaving me? That’s your plan? To walk away? Christ, Rayne, you’re destroying me here.” He took a deep breath. Rayne slipped out of bed as he continued to pace back and forth. “No. I won’t let you—”

She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, her head resting on his back. She felt his heart racing erratically beneath her palms and slowed it down.
He took a deep breath. “Stop. You have to learn to let me finish my sentences.”

He went to turn, but she held him in place.

“No, stand there and listen to me,” she ordered. The tension slightly dissipated from his body as she continued to hold him. “You mean the world to me. If I had to I would live back in the compound if only to know you would be by my side.” She felt his sharp intake of air. “Yes, I don’t want this life, but I want you in my life more, and if that means we live here and fight crazy bug-people and whatever else, then that’s what we will do.”

She couldn’t stop him this time as he whirled around and picked her up in his arms, his eyes blazing with intensity. “I won’t repeat myself, so you better say yes the first time. Marry me.”

“What?” She balked.

“I’m impatient and crass and I get what I want.” He walked over to the bed and lay her down. He came overtop, hands grabbing her wrists and placing them above her head. “And I want you.”

She licked her lips several times and saw his eyes flash with desire as he watched her. She wiggled her body and tried to get her wrists free, but he remained immobile.

“Your answer,” he demanded.

“Let my hands go first,” she said.

“No,” he replied and readjusted himself so he lay between her legs. “Tell me yes.”

“Will you always be this way?”

He hesitated then a slow grin formed. “Yes.”

“Mmmm, I see.” She saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but still his resolve was unmovable. This was whom she loved. Crass, determined and stubborn as a mule, but he’d go to the ends of the earth for those he loved. He’d give his own life, a selfless man with so much to give. Betrayed by his brother and the woman he loved, yet still he had opened himself up to her. Trusted her to bring him back from destruction.

“Rayne, please.” His voice was an agonized whisper.