Chapter 27
Paul was worried. Andra hadn’t resisted when he tucked her into bed, which meant she was a lot worse off than he’d hoped. She’d told him that they had to leave as soon as she could find the trail again, and asked him to gather as many men as he could.
He’d gone to do just that when he saw Angus turn the corner at the end of the hall. The older man wasn’t moving with his normal fluid grace. Instead, his movements were jerky and rigid, as if he were injured.
Then again, his daughter was missing. That was more than enough pain for any man to bear.
“Can she help?” he asked Paul without greeting.
Paul nodded. “She’s going to try. She said she made contact with Sibyl and that she’s still alive and unharmed.”
Angus covered his face and let out a deep breath of relief.
“She also said that Sibyl doesn’t want her to come.”
“My poor baby girl,” whispered Angus. “She probably thinks Andra is more important to us than she is. She’s always felt that, because she never reached maturity and can’t bond with any of our men, she was somehow flawed and unimportant.”
“That’s ridiculous. How many times has she saved our lives with her predictions?”
“That’s what I’ve always told her, but I guess a father’s opinion doesn’t count.”
“I didn’t know she was your daughter. How could I not have known?”
Angus shrugged. “Sibyl and Gilda don’t get along. There aren’t many men left alive who were there when Sibyl was born, and somewhere along the line, she just stopped claiming us. Even though she has a child’s body, she’s been a grown woman for a long time. It seemed the least we could do was respect her wishes.”
“Why has she never grown?”
Angus’s blue eyes clouded with a mixture of anger and sadness. “I won’t answer that. Ask her if you want to know, though I doubt she’d tell you.”
That meant it was officially none of his business. “We’re going to find her, Angus. I know Andra can do this.”
“Then why haven’t you already left?”
“She nearly killed herself making contact with Sibyl. She needs a few minutes to rest before she finds the path. Besides, we’re going to need to gather the men who are able to come with us.”
“I want to go.”
Paul put his hand on Angus’s shoulder. “Of course you’re going. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“How many men do we need?”
“I was just going to see Joseph about that. I don’t know how many we can spare with the wall breached. We can’t leave the place unguarded.”
“Let me talk to Joseph,” said Angus. “You go pick your men and I’ll see to it that they’re ours.”
“He won’t leave the humans unguarded.”
“I won’t ask him to, but he owes me some favors and I’m calling them in. She’s my daughter.”
Paul nodded. “Meet me back at my suite in an hour. We’ll be ready to go.”
They’d been driving southeast for most of the day when Andra lost the trail. Frustration bubbled up inside her, making her want to scream.
“Stop,” she told Madoc, who was driving the giant SUV they’d been given. The thing held eight normal-size people, but only five Theronai and herself. It was packed shoulder-to-massive-shoulder with warriors, all of whom were now looking at her.
“Is this the place?” asked Morgan from the front seat. His brown skin and feral expression made his eyes look like they were glowing. There was something predatory about him—graceful, quiet movements ruled him, as if he were hunting for something no matter where he went.
“No,” said Andra, hearing the sound of defeat in her voice. “I’ve lost the path.”
Madoc checked the clock on the dashboard. “It’ll be dark in another two hours.”
“Do you want to try again, or call it a night?” asked Paul. He hadn’t stopped touching her since they’d left Dabyr. His arm was around her shoulders, holding her close to his side.
Even with the heat of his body, Andra was cold, and so tired she could barely keep her eyes open.
“I can’t leave her to spend the night with those things. I have to try again.”
Paul nodded his understanding. “Everyone out,” he ordered. “Give us a few minutes. Madoc, go tell Angus and the others what’s going on.”
Madoc gave an affirmative grunt and all four men got out of the vehicle.
“Lie down on the seat,” he told her.
Andra didn’t need a second offer. Her body was so heavy and numb with weariness, she felt like her skin had turned to lead. Paul had shoved his big body in the space between the two front seats and the backseat where she lay. He looked almost comical crouched there in the small space, and for some reason, it made her heart give a little flop in her chest.
She realized at that moment that this man would do anything for her. He was commitment and loyalty personified. So long as he drew breath, he would do whatever it took to make her safe and happy. Including forfeit his life.
She couldn’t let that happen. She needed to give him his ring back and separate herself from him before she no longer could. The idea of staying with him was becoming more temptation than she could stand. If she didn’t walk away soon, she never would, and that scared the hell out of her, because she knew how it would end—the same way it had for Mom and Tori and Nika. She’d do something wrong and she’d have to watch another person she loved suffer or die.
The realization that she loved him stunned her stupid for a moment, and she hadn’t heard what he’d said.
“What?” she asked.
“Are you comfortable?”
Hardly, but she nodded anyway.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“I’m just worried about Sibyl,” she lied.
Paul smoothed her hair away from her face and gave her an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll find her.”
Such faith. She had no idea where he found it after all he’d been through, all he’d seen of her past, but if he could have faith, then she would, too.
Andra took his left hand and kissed his palm before she settled it around her throat. The two parts of the luceria locked together and she was flooded with a heady rush of power that never ceased to amaze her.
She was going to miss that almost as much as she was going to miss Paul.
“I’m not going to let you go,” he told her as if reading her thoughts. “Fair warning.”
She couldn’t think about that right now. She had to concentrate.
Andra closed her eyes and searched for that trail of acceptance. It was nowhere to be found.
“Hand me the doll,” she said.
Paul pulled it out of a duffel bag and gave it to her. The cool weight of the doll’s porcelain head rested over her heart. She smelled the faint scent of sunshine and roses clinging to it. Sibyl’s scent. This doll was somehow part of her, vibrating with its own kind of energy that Andra didn’t understand.
Maybe this was what psychics felt when they connected with an object. It wasn’t painful, but neither was it completely comfortable. The doll had a jumbled, chaotic feeling about it—a shadow or blemish that Andra couldn’t see, but could feel.
As her body fell away, she was flung across the sky and plunged down into the earth. Her head spun and she felt nauseated even though she was no longer inside her body.
A single bare lightbulb hung from the ceiling of a room with no walls, only swirling plumes of color. Andra recognized it as Sibyl’s mind, even though the colors were darker now. There were no hopeful pastel hues, only deep, muted browns and grays.
Sibyl stepped out from one of the plumes. This time she was wearing a frilly black gown covered in artistically shredded tatters of lace. Her eyes were rimmed with liner and her lips covered in a garish red gloss. Her fingernails were long and painted black.
“Trying out a new look?” asked Andra, unable to keep the parental dismay from her tone.
Sibyl frowned for a moment; then a satisfied smile stretched her painted lips. Her appearance changed back to the more appropriately girlish attire, complete with ankle socks and pink bows. No more baby hooker. “Better?” she asked.
“Much.”
“I’m so glad you came,” she said.
“I thought you wanted me to stay away.”
Her smile widened. “I’ve changed my mind. This place is horrible.”
“Do you know where you are?” asked Andra.
“I think so.” She waved her hand and a map that looked similar to a satellite image, but recorded from a lower angle, appeared. She pointed at one spot while Andra frantically tried to memorize the nearby highways and streets. It was in northern Alabama, only two or three hours from where they were.
“Can you find me?” asked Sibyl in a voice that shook with a mere hint of fear. She hadn’t been afraid before, but maybe things had gotten worse where she was.
Andra filled her voice with confidence to help soothe the child. “I can now. Don’t worry. We’re coming.”
“We? Who’s with you?”
“There are ten men with me, Gilda, and Helen.” She hadn’t had time to do more than meet Helen, but Paul said she was powerful. “We’ll get you out.”
Sibyl’s eyes gleamed with a flash of anger at the mention of her mother’s name. It was then that Andra noticed that her eyes were no longer blue. They’d gone completely black.
Something wasn’t right here.
“What’s wrong with your eyes?” she asked.
Sibyl shrugged a dainty shoulder. “It’s the darkness. All of the Theronai’s eyes turn black after they’ve been out of the light for a while.”
Poor thing. All that darkness had to be hard to tolerate, even if she wasn’t easily scared.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. You just hold on, baby.”
Her voice was faint and tinted with sorrow. “I’ll try. Please hurry. I don’t know how much longer I can stand this. They have me locked up in a cage with the skeleton of another little girl. I know they’re going to leave me here to die.”
Andra’s throat closed off, choking her with anguish. “What?”
“She’s wearing a pink nightgown just like me. They let her die in this cage all alone.”
Oh, God. Tori. She’d been wearing a pink nightgown the night she was taken. Her body was still there.
Andra felt her heart rip open all over again. Anguish bled from her, but it didn’t lessen. She could still feel every sharp stab of guilt, every grinding wave of grief, as if Tori had been taken just last night.
Before she realized what had happened, she was back inside her body, sobbing.
“Shhh.” Paul held her, rocking her against his solid chest. “I’ve got you.”
“I found her,” said Andra.
“That’s good, right? Now we can go get her back.”
