Primal Heat 05 - Darkness Reborn

angel," Ryland said quietly, almost reverently. "The real deal. Put her down. You aren't worthy of holding her. None of us are."
    "An angel?" Stunned, Kane looked down at Sarah. Her dark brown hair was tangled around her shoulders, her face ashen, tight lines of suffering around the corners of her mouth. Her throat was still bleeding from the attack, and more blood was oozing from her side. There were bruises all over her throat, and she was trembling violently against him. Protectiveness surged over him, and he knew it didn't matter what she was. Right now, she was a woman who was dying in his arms, and he had to stop it. "Tell me a story of redemption, Ryland," he said quietly, trying to soothe her with the tones of his voice. "Without it, she dies."
    Ryland immediately went down on one knee, and bowed his head, a show of respect so far from the rogue warrior he always was. "My mother," he said quietly. "She was the most beautiful soul that ever graced this earth."
    Kane was stunned by the raw emotion of Ryland's words, of the depth of reverence in his voice. Ryland was a cold killing machine, who cared only about following his own path, about revenge, about his own brand of justice. He was a warrior who felt nothing, who saw no beauty, who had no depth to his soul other than death, pain and anger, and yet his sincerity about his mother was so evident that Kane could feel the other warrior's emotion. "Son of a bitch, Ryland," he said softly, staring at the warrior he thought he knew. "Who the hell are you?"
    Ryland's head snapped up. "Don't swear in her presence, you bastard. She's a fucking angel, and deserves far more than a piece of scum like you or I could ever offer her. Don't ever forget it."
    Kane. Sarah's voice melted through his mind, and he swore at how weak she sounded.
    Listen to Ryland. He's telling you about his mother. Kane knelt in front of Ryland, meeting Ryland's grim face. "Talk, Ryland. Fucking talk."
    "My mother died trying to keep me safe," Ryland said urgently, looking at Sarah. "I'll never forget the blood, the way she screamed when the—"
    Kane hit Ryland in the side of the head. "What the hell's that? How is that a story of hope and faith?"
    Ryland's eyes darkened to black again. "She's my mother. She is all that was good in this world."
    "She died? How is that good?" Jesus, did the man have no sense of humanity? Even Kane knew there was no hope and faith in a story about dead mothers.
    "To save the sorry ass of her fucked up son, yeah," Ryland snapped. "That deserves a chorus in the heavens by the angels themselves."
    Kane. Sarah's fingers moved weakly, and he caught her hand. It has to be you. I can't feel his emotions. Only yours.
    Shit. His emotions weren't the kind that could save an angel, or anyone else for that matter. Kane looked at Ryland, desperate. "Help me, man. The feel good story has to come from me, but that's not my thing. I got nothing."
    Ryland met his gaze. "Dante. It has to be Dante. Tell her about Dante."
    Sudden grief poured through Kane at the thought of their leader who'd been assassinated so recently. "I can't—"
    I feel that, Sarah said . You loved him. Tell me. Who are you thinking about?
    Jesus. Emotions? She wanted him to talk about his emotions? He was a male. He didn't do emotions—
    Ryland's machete was suddenly at Kane's throat. "You will get in touch with your emotions if I have to carve them out of you. You give the angel what she wants. Now."
    Kane swallowed, the blade drawing blood as he met the eyes of the one man who understood how much it had broken him when Dante had died. Dante Sinclair saved my life, Sarah. He found me in a sewer, left for dead. I was covered in scars. I was a violent, deadly bastard ready to cut off any hand that tried to help me, and he didn't give a shit. Kane ground his jaw against the sudden swell of emotions, against the memories of that day when he'd been down in the rotting sewage, with no idea of what he was, who he was or how he'd gotten there. He could still recall that aching sense of loss and emptiness inside him, nearly crushing him with the void.
    When Dante had reached out and extended his hand to him, it had been a lifeline Kane had never forgotten.
    He saved you? Sarah's fingers tightened in his.
    He stared at her fingers curled so desperately in his hand, at the first sign of strength he'd seen from her. Her hand was so small, so slight, so vulnerable compared to his callused palms that were twice her size.