Lyka wanted to reassure him. He was terrified for her. In fact, he was already grieving for her, as if he thought she were dead.

She tried to send some kind of comfort through the tiny thread running between them, but her desire to ease him was too big to fit. All that seemed to trickle through was a faint strand of concern for him.

At least he’d know she was still alive.

The pain in her body began to fade as her limbs went numb. The poison was spreading through her system, making it harder to breathe.

Slayers were immune to most poisons. They’d been designed to be able to engage in hand-to-hand combat with Synestryn demons and still survive. That trait had been strengthened through the generations with careful breeding. The strongest members of the pack would reproduce, ensuring that the next generation of Slayer was tougher than the last.

Lyka’s brothers had been poisoned by demons in multiple battles and survived, but they’d both been gifted with their father’s genes.

Lyka hadn’t. Her father was Athanasian. She had no way of knowing if the immunity to poison passed on by her mother would be enough to save her.

The last of the demons fell at Joseph’s feet. Her body was so numb, it felt dead. The remnants of the pain were nearly gone now, but in its place was an empty kind of weakness—almost as if she had no body.

He was breathing hard when he turned to her. Panic lined his face, digging deep grooves around his mouth. “Hang on, Lyka.”

There was nothing else she could do.

He wiped the black blood from his sword on the fur of the dead and sheathed it. As soon as his hands were empty, he bent down to pick her up.

“Don’t touch the poison,” she reminded him. Her voice was weak and breathless, but at least she could still speak.

Theronai weren’t immune to sgath poison. If he so much as brushed her wounds, it could be absorbed by his skin and incapacitate him. If that happened, they were both as good as dead. It wouldn’t be long before another pack of demons smelled her blood and came to snack on their paralyzed bodies.

He gave her a hasty nod and stripped out of his shirt. He used it to pad her wounds and keep the oily poison off his skin.

“I’ve got you,” he said as he carried her to the truck. “Just hang on. Ronan isn’t far away.”

“I’ll be okay.” She hoped.

A pulse of grief spilled out of him.

Her words were slurred, and she hoped he could understand her. “I’m a Slayer, remember? Poison can’t hurt me.”

Except it had. Her brothers wouldn’t have even felt the effects of this much sgath poison. The fact that she did made her wonder just how much Slayer was really in her.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he said, but she could tell he was lying.

They were back at the truck. He carefully tucked her in the seat and buckled her seat belt.

She couldn’t move anymore. Even her head lolled to the side.

He leaned the seat back so she wouldn’t flop around so much and then hurried around to the driver’s side of the truck. When he got in, he was already on the phone.

“Pick up,” he all but shouted. When the person on the other end didn’t, he left a message. “Call me back, Ronan. Lyka’s been poisoned. I need you. Now!”

He dialed the phone again, and this time, whoever he’d called answered. “Lyka’s been poisoned,” he said.

There was a man’s voice on the other end of the line, his tone one of calm reassurance.

“Yes, but she’s also half Theronai,” said Joseph.

A chill passed through her body, leaving her trembling in its wake.

“Ronan didn’t answer his damn phone.” Tires spun and spit gravel as he peeled out. “I don’t care what he’s doing. This is more important.”

Another shiver racked her body so hard, it was nearly a convulsion. Every muscle in her was knotted and frozen, only now the numbness was starting to wear off and the pain was coming back with a vengeance.

Layered over that was a sharp increase in the worry flowing out of Joseph. That tiny pipeline between them was so clogged with fear, there was no room left for her to reassure him.

“I’ll be fine.” The words came out through her chattering teeth, robbing them of all confidence.

Joseph’s hand settled on her arm, so hot it nearly burned her. She jerked involuntarily as she hissed in pain.

“It’s getting worse,” he said into the phone. “She’s running out of time. I’m headed toward you as fast as I can go.”

The truck went airborne over a bump in the road. She was unable to control her body enough to compensate for the motion, which left her slinging around in the seat like a rag doll. If not for the seat belt, she would have sloshed over into his lap.

A heavy black cloud of confusion started to form over her, sinking down to consume her as it grew. She didn’t know where it came from or why it was there, but she knew that it wasn’t good.

Another hard shiver grabbed hold of her body and shook her. This time, the shaking didn’t ease. It got worse. Just as one wave of cold pain subsided, the next one slammed into her, stealing her breath. After a few of them, she wasn’t able to breathe at all.

The black cloud expanded to fill the entire truck and swallowed her whole.

Her last conscious thought was that she’d failed. She’d failed Eric and the young by not finding them. She’d failed Joseph by not being the partner he needed her to be. And she’d failed her people by not doing her duty and killing more demons when she had the chance. She’d barely even scratched the surface on what she’d wanted to do with her life, and already it was over.

Chapter 23

Ronan ignored his phone’s incessant buzzing as he raced toward the woman he sought. He’d already had to use precious power to convince a police officer that he’d imagined the pale man in the van doing 110 down the highway.

Touching the mind of a human with whom he had no blood bond, and at that distance, had been difficult but necessary.

His mystery woman—his savior—had started moving toward him.

There was no way he was going to let whatever emergency had popped up now deter him from finding her. She so rarely stopped, or even slowed down, the idea of her drawing nearer was almost inconceivable. He had to take advantage of the opportunity while it was still available to him.

A twinge of guilt over ignoring his phone hit his conscience, but he shrugged it away. If his instincts were right, then what he was doing now was far more important than anything that Joseph might want.