What he was telling me had to be bullshit, but the guy looked dead serious, and I knew from pieces of my memory coming back that this Ryszard had felt no remorse for Balen’s suffering. His fangs had been real, and I’d had bruises on my neck. It hadn’t been a ring. It had been teeth marks on my neck.
But it was impossible. “Why did he hurt Balen? He tortured him so badly. I don’t understand. Who would do that?”
Waleron’s brows rose. “Ryszard hurt you.”
“Yes, but Balen . . . I don’t know, it was much worse.” I didn’t know the full extent of what went down, but I saw it in Balen’s eyes. It was more pain than any person could normally endure. “No bullshit? There are really . . . vampires?” A hard pill to swallow, but for some reason, things were beginning to make sense now.
“Yes.” He lowered his hand to my forehead and I felt a swirling heat grip my body. I went to say something, but I wasn’t sure what because my mind was foggy. I attempted to move away, but he continued to send a pulsating throb into my head until I became so tired that I fell back onto the bed and was asleep within seconds.
I PACED THE LENGTH of the room in Keir’s basement, a.k.a. the Tomb. Restless wasn’t even close to describing how I was feeling. Completely fucked up mess of emotions was more accurate. Shit, I’d been fucked up before, now I was totally screwed, too.
Waleron had turned the plane around, but that didn’t mean I was going to live happily fuckin’ ever after. The Wraiths were going to be pissed at Waleron for defying judgment. My death was most likely now on their agenda.
But not before I saw her. Not before I found out what the hell was going on. I had to know she was okay. Jesus, what I felt in the plane had freaked me out. Sure, I was a Tracker, but being able to scent Danni’s emotions from that distance—impossible. And Waleron damn well knew it. Something else was at work here and I’d be damned if I’d let Danni face this without me.
The sweet scent of her drifted into me and I stopped pacing. Fuck, they brought her here. I walked to the door, threw it open, then took the stairs two at a time to the top floor and strode down the hall to where her scent led me.
I threw open the door, and then stopped abruptly. Anstice sat on the bed with Danni’s hand clasped in hers. Shit. I’d been unprepared to see my sister. She looked up at me with a tentative smile. Guilt hit me hard. It had eaten away at me for two years and now it was in my face and it sucked.
“You haven’t forgiven yourself,” Anstice said.
I said nothing. No, of course I hadn’t. How could I. I deserved her bitterness and hate.
Anstice lowered Danni’s hand and rose. God, she looked like our mother, regal with deep brown eyes filled with kindness. “Ryszard was going to make her his slave, wasn’t he?” Her voice was soothing, like a Healer’s. I remembered our mother’s voice being like that.
I nodded, my eyes flashing for a second to Danni lying so still and pale in the king size bed.
“Forgiveness is not required, Balen. I owe you my gratitude for saving her.”
“No,” I said. “I betrayed my own blood and kin for a stranger. I risked your life and that of the Talde. I broke our law.”
“Have you thought of the consequences if you hadn’t?”
Yes, a thousand fuckin’ times and I came to the same goddamn conclusion. I’d do it again. And that was what destroyed me. If given the chance, I’d do it again the exact same way.
Anstice approached.
I stiffened as her soft footsteps stopped inches away. She raised her hand then cupped my cheek. Jesus, it was like my mother was right here, all the good now in Anstice. “We’ve missed so many years. Please, don’t block me out now that you’re back. I want to know my brother.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t look like that will happen.” I turned my head and her hand dropped.
Anstice sighed. “Waleron woke her from deep sleep a few minutes ago.” She put her hand on my forearm and squeezed. “Balen, you did the right thing.” Then she walked from the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Waleron’s theory of why Danni had been so ill . . . fuck, it was my fault. Did it ever end? The pain I caused others?
I ran my hand through my hair, back and forth, and groaned. Jesus, this was a total fuck up. And yet I couldn’t deny that I was happy as shit to be back, to see her again.
She was mine, damn it.
“Balen?”
My heart skipped a beat at the sound of her voice. My knees actually weakened. It had never happened before and it took several seconds before I could put one foot in front of the other. Shit, I was in trouble with this woman.
She reached out her hand and I stared at it, remembering her long slender fingers unbuttoning my jeans, caressing my chest, stroking my cock.
When I remained motionless, she shifted closer on the bed and took my hand. “You’re here.” She rose up on her knees and put her hands on either side of my head, pulling me toward her. “Took you long enough.”
Before I could reply, her lips met mine, soft and hesitant, and it was so fuckin’ sweet. But nothing in me was sweet when it came to her. The impulse to throw her back on the bed and taste her again took control and I deepened the kiss. My tongue drove inside her mouth, tasting, touching the velvet surface that sent quivers through every muscle in my body then straight to my straining cock. Jesus Christ, I loved the feel of her lips on mine.
I hooked my arm around her waist and yanked her into me, groaning at the feel of her soft curves. She was a part of me, the goodness I lacked. Could I ever deny myself this woman? Fuck no. I was too selfish to let her go. The only word that roared through my head was mine.