“You think so?” I laugh. “Bas has no idea what you really are. Did he know the Harrows are yours?”
“No, and neither will Daryn. Only you know.”
“Lucky me. Do you control them like Ra’om controlled you? Through torture? You were nothing but Ra’om’s—”
“Careful.” He finally does what I’ve been dreading and moves into my mind. It’s a familiar feeling. Painful. Like fingers walking around my eyes, then slipping inside and prodding at my brain. He put me through this repeatedly in the fall.
“Those were good times we had, weren’t they? In Rome? In California?” he asks, lining up with my thoughts. Then he withdraws from my head. Fast, like a hook releasing.
I need a few seconds to shake the edge of darkness he left behind and get full control of my own head again. “How did you keep all of this from Bas?”
“He was very ill for the first six weeks. Unconscious. Then delirious with fever. It gave me time to understand my power here. By the time he was healthy, I had arranged things the way I wanted. I had a plan. I knew having him on my side would be imperative to gaining Daryn’s trust.”
“You lied to him for eight months.”
“I didn’t enjoy it, but I had to. For a time, I thought about turning him. Bringing him to heel, so to speak. But it would’ve killed Sebastian. Not everyone is strong enough to hold darkness inside them.” He pauses. “You could do it.”
“Is this your sales pitch again? I love this.”
“Think of it, Gideon. All the guilt and remorse you struggle with, going away. Violence, even if it’s for good, is still violence. How do you reconcile that? How do you live with guilt? If you joined me, that would end. You’d never need to ask those questions again. We could be brothers. Can you imagine it?”
“Sure can. It looks like hell.”
“Your insolence is another thing I like about you.”
“You think fighting feeds me? That violence is something I enjoy?” I shake my head. “You’re evil.”
“Is that what you think evil is? The desire to do harm to another? If so, then I imagine you’re feeling evil right now.”
I can’t argue with that.
“That reminds me … I’ve wanted to talk to you about your hand. I owe you a debt for what I’ve done. Someday I’ll repay it.”
“Your death would settle it.”
“That’s not an option.”
“Then I don’t want anything from you.”
“I can’t say the same.”
The pressure around my eyes starts again. I feel him enter my head and plunge deep this time. Deep enough to sift through my memories.
Images blur before me—not under my power.
Samrael takes me to when I first saw Daryn in Wyoming at the Smith Cabin, after all those months away from her. I’m transported back to how I felt. Standing on the porch during that rainstorm. Watching her walk up. Telling myself not to fall for her again. I was so sure I could keep my distance.
How wrong you were.
Samrael’s voice echoes in my thoughts.
My memory lurches forward, blurring again, and then crystallizing. I’m in Nevada now. Seeing the moment in the trailer when Daryn and I were all over each other. Feeling that moment.
I can see how she changed your mind.
That’s not—it’s not—
Ah, there it is. A reaction. She is such a weakness in your armor. Too easy, Gideon. Between her and your horse, much too easy. First lesson I’d teach you if I were your mentor: Never care more than you can withstand to suffer.
We blur forward again to the time Daryn and I talked about her parents after the haunting where she saw her mother on the roof of the bungalow.
I relive it fully, my surroundings dropping away. I hear myself telling Daryn that her parents abandoned her. That she was a kid who needed them. I see how it affects her all over again. Then I’m back in my skin and the pressure goes away.
“Interesting,” Samrael says. “She fears abandonment. Perhaps it’s why she shows such extraordinary determination not to give up on you. Thank you, Gideon. It’ll be helpful.”
He turns and walks away.
“Wait.”
He stops.
“You’re mining me for information on her.” I don’t even ask; I know it’s what he’s doing. Because she’s a Seeker, he can’t see into her mind, so he’s going through me. “You’re going to use what you stole out of my head to get close to her. To win her trust, so she’ll let you out of here.”
“To be honest with you, I don’t think I need your help. I feel a connection with her. A kinship.” He smiles at his own words; then he reaches into his pocket and removes the orb. He holds it up like he’s examining it. “But I’m not going to take any chances.”
CHAPTER 37
DARYN
“Daryn?” Rael says. “I’m sorry, but it’s getting late. We need to go back before the Harrows begin to stir.”
I rein in the gray mare I’ve borrowed. A dozen riders stop around me—Rifters whose names I’m just beginning to sort out. Who have given up their day and put themselves at risk to search for Gideon.
We’ve spent hours riding, and we haven’t seen anything except stupid white flowers and trees, trees, and more trees.
The disappointment is too much. To my horror, my eyes fill. I dismount and stride away before I embarrass myself.
“Go on ahead, Dunnett,” Rael says behind me. “We’ll catch up.”
The hoofbeats recede as the posse rides back to Gray Fort. My disappointment fades away as I draw deep breaths, but I don’t find calm. I find anger.
“No pep talk?” I ask without turning to face Rael. “I’m a little disappointed.” My words are bitter, but I’m so tired of searching and searching and being let down.
“I was trying to give you some space, but if you’d like encouragement, I might be able to help.” There’s a quiet thud as he hops down from the saddle. “Would you?”
“Like encouragement?” I turn to face him, and he stops in his tracks. “Sure. Why not?”
“Okay. First, let me be sure I understand: you’re discouraged because our search hasn’t been successful yet, correct?”
“What kind of Seeker never finds?”
Rael stands perfectly still, regarding me with an unblinking stare. “I think ‘never’ may be a slight exaggeration.”
I roll my eyes. I know I’m exaggerating, but being called out on it isn’t exactly making me feel any better.
“All right,” he says. “Bear with me as I share a small story with you.” He exhales quietly and at length. “Roughly a year ago, I was in Rio de Janeiro, in one of the favelas there—the shantytowns that climb the mountains around the city. They’re ramshackle settlements, the houses stacked one atop another like beehives. Poverty, crime, and hunger thrive in them. That is what had drawn me and the other Kindred.
“I had spent the previous night with them inspiring fear and inciting violence. These were the things I did then, the things that once fed me and that I must atone for.