It was so fucking unfair that Logan wanted to howl. To have the ability to heal his ally but not the strength made him furious—made him want to lash out and drain every blooded human he could find. Take their power and leave their corpses to rot. Why should he even care anymore what happened to the humans?

Thomas’s wide shoulders blocked out the overhead light, forcing Logan to look up. This was the part he hated most—admitting his weakness, crushing Drake’s friends with the weight of grief. Living with that weight himself.

“How bad is it?” asked Thomas, his deep voice thick with rage.

Logan just shook his head. “I can ease his pain. It won’t last long.”

“No,” said Helen. Her voice was thin and high and breathless. Almost panicked. “He’s not going to die.”

Denial. It always happened and Logan hated every fucking second of it. “I’m sorry, Helen.”

“You don’t understand. He can’t die. He has to watch me die.”

Logan had no idea what she was talking about, but something in her words tugged at a memory.

“We don’t have time for this now,” said Thomas. “We have to get out of here.”

Logan picked up Drake’s heavy body, being careful to avoid getting cut by Drake’s sword. The flames had seared his fist closed, locking the weapon in his grip. Thomas took Helen by the arm. Behind them, Helen’s house was swiftly being engulfed by flames. Thankfully, she was too worried over Drake to really notice. A small favor.

Sirens screamed in the distance. The human authorities were coming. It was time to go.

They laid Drake in the back of the van on a clean white blanket. He didn’t even groan. The stench of burning flesh stung Logan’s nose and made his empty stomach twist with nausea.

Helen scrambled in behind him and reached for Drake, but Logan stopped her. “Don’t touch him. He has enough pain as it is.”

Helen swallowed hard and nodded. Tears welled up and slid down her dirty cheek.

♥

Chapter 6

The van swayed as it turned a corner, knocking Helen’s head against the metal wall. “Careful,” said Logan. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

Helen didn’t even feel the impact. She was numb. Overloaded. She couldn’t take this all in. The monsters, her house burning down. Again. Drake’s horrible burns. It was all too much and something inside her had just shut down. She felt as if she were moving through cotton, every motion slow, never really feeling anything. The only thing that stood out among all the fuzziness was her certainty that Drake would live. She held on to that, knowing it was the only thing keeping her going right now. And she had to keep going. Miss Mabel still needed her to focus, to get her home safely.

“Will they be able to help him at the hospital?” she asked Logan.

His skin had lost all its color and he looked gaunter than before. He was still beautiful, but there was a fragileness about him now that hadn’t been there before. He looked tired. Frail. Even his voice sounded weak. “We’re not going to a hospital.”

“We have to. He needs help.”

“They can’t help him, Helen. Thomas knows where to go.”

Helen thought about arguing, but bit her tongue. She was out of her league here. She was floundering around trying to figure out what was happening to her normal, tidy world. Nothing was the same anymore and likely never would be again.

“How’s it going back there?” asked Thomas. He was driving the van a little too fast, but his big hands held control of the wheel without effort.

“Not great. How much longer?” asked Logan.

“We’ll be off the highway in five minutes. It’s another fifteen to the house. I’ve put in a call for help and we should have some Gerai showing up within the hour.”

“He’s not going to last that long,” said Logan. His voice was even, but there was a mask of anger on his face that he didn’t bother to hide from her.

“What’s a Gerai?” asked Helen. “Medicine? A doctor?”

Logan pressed his elegant hand against Drake’s brow. The side of his face was burned beyond recognition, and if he did survive, the scars would be horrific.

Which didn’t synch up with her vision at all. For the first time in her life, Helen was beginning to doubt that the vision was real. She wanted to be relieved by that hope, but not if it meant that Drake was going to suffer. She just wished she’d known what he’d been doing when he knocked her down. She would have stopped him. She wasn’t sure how, but maybe she could have found a way.

“No,” replied Logan. “A Gerai is a special kind of person who can donate blood to help Drake. Though I’m not sure that even that will help at this point.”

“I’ll donate if it will help. How can I tell if I’m one of these Gerai?”

Logan looked up at her, and something frightening flashed through those silvery blue eyes. For a second, he no longer looked beautiful. He looked deadly. Hungry.

The look was gone so quickly, she almost convinced herself she’d imagined it. Almost.

Logan shot a furtive glance toward Thomas, then down at Drake, as if he was checking to see whether anyone was watching him. He spoke in a low whisper that was barely loud enough to hear over the sound of the van. “You would share your blood?”

“Will it help?”

“Absolutely.”

“How?”

“I am able to use the power in your blood to heal.”

“How?”

“It’s what I do. I’m not human, remember?”

Right. Not human. And she’d offered him her blood.

Logan licked his lips and pulled his hand away from Drake’s head. There was plenty of room in the back of the van, but suddenly it seemed much smaller. Logan leaned forward with a predatory gleam in his eyes and reached his hand toward Helen.

Drake’s good hand shot out and gripped Logan’s wrist. “Don’t,” he ordered Logan, the single word mangled by his ruined lips.

Helen gasped, not expecting Drake to be alert enough to move. Pain twisted his face, or maybe it was rage. She couldn’t be sure, but one thing was clear: Drake did not want Logan to touch her.

“She offered,” said Logan. “It’s my right.”

“Not today it isn’t.” Drake’s words were slurred as his mouth tried to move against the tightness of the burns.

“I need her blood. You’ll die unless I’m strong enough to save you.”

“Then I die. I won’t have her obligated to you.” Drake’s eyes squeezed shut and he gasped for breath.

“You’re not quite so demanding without me dulling your pain, are you?”

Drake made horrible choking noises and she could see him struggling to breathe. Whatever Logan was doing, it was killing Drake.

“Stop it! Stop hurting him.”

“What’s going on back there?” asked Thomas, glancing over his shoulder.

Logan ignored him and looked at her again. There was no longer any question about whether or not she’d seen something odd in his face. She had. He wasn’t human. Not even close. Logan was something else. Something frightening and powerful and hungry. “You can help him, Helen. All I need is a little of your blood.”

“No,” ground out Drake between choking gasps.

“What the hell is going on?” bellowed Thomas.

“Helen, are you okay?” asked Miss Mabel.

“He’ll die without your help,” said Logan. “He’ll suffer horribly and then he’ll die.”

Helen was not going to let that happen. “You can have as much blood as you need.”

A triumphant light glowed in Logan’s eyes. “Swear it.”

“No,” gasped Drake, barely audible. He was dying. Getting weaker by the second.

“I swear it.” Helen felt the power of her vow wrap around her, become part of her. A sliver of her free will shriveled up and turned to ash. She had no idea what she’d just done, but whatever had just happened had changed her life forever.

Logan smiled a cold, inhuman smile. So beautiful. She couldn’t help but stare.

She felt herself relax and start to drift. She could no longer remember why she’d been so upset. All she knew was that the world went away and the only thing that remained was Logan’s beautiful face. Those haunting silvery eyes that almost seemed to glow.

“Close your eyes,” he told her, reaching out for her.

Right before she obeyed, she saw sharp, white fangs lengthen from between his parted lips.

Drake couldn’t move. He could barely breathe. He wasn’t sure whether it was something Logan had done to him or if it was because of his injuries, but it didn’t matter anymore. He couldn’t save Helen. She’d given her blood oath to the Sanguinar and was bound to it for the rest of her life.

Drake choked on his rage, struggling against the weakness and pain that held his body down. All he could do was watch as Logan lowered his head to Helen’s neck—her beautiful, soft neck that smelled like lilacs—and sank his fangs deep. Helen didn’t even flinch. Her body was limp in Logan’s arms, unable to fight. Not that she would have had a chance. Her vow had made sure of that. For the rest of her life, Logan would be able to feed from her whenever he wanted.

Drake heard a pitiful mewling sound and realized it was coming from himself. He couldn’t stand to watch, but he couldn’t look away, either. All he could do was bear witness to Logan’s treachery and pray that he would stop before it was too late.

“That’s it,” said Thomas, his voice tight with worry. “I’m pulling over.” The van slowed, but not nearly fast enough to make a difference.

Logan pulled away from Helen’s neck, and a second later the wound closed as if it had never been there. Not even a pink spot remained. He laid her limp body gently on the floor of the van and smoothed her hair back from her face. His touch was loving in its tenderness and it made Drake’s stomach give a sickening twist.

Logan turned to Drake and he could see something was different about him. Logan was no longer as pale or as gaunt as before and he wore an expression of victory. Conquest.

Thomas was in the back of the van with them now, but it was too late. There was nothing he could do to help Helen. The damage was already done.

Drake tried to warn Thomas that Logan had betrayed them, but he couldn’t speak.

“What’s wrong with her?” asked Thomas.

“She fainted. Everything’s fine. Just drive.”

“How’s Drake?”

“Awake. Suffering. Leave me to tend him. Your job is to get us to the Gerai before it’s too late.”

Thomas hesitated as if sensing something was wrong. He pressed a blunt finger against Helen’s wrist, checking for a pulse. “Did you know she was bleeding?” He held up Helen’s hand and across the palm were several deep cuts. Glass was still embedded in one of them.

“I’ll tend her. Go.” Logan’s voice was steady and even.

Drake struggled to speak. His eyes were wide and he was silently begging Thomas to understand what was wrong. Those damn choking noises came out, but nothing else. Nothing coherent.