Primal Heat 05 - Darkness Reborn

been filled with cool, pure water that would have seeped into her skin from the moment she landed in it. Ten years ago, all she would have had to do was collapse right now, submerge beneath the water and let it restore her.
    Today, there was just the dry, crumbling rock that had once been the bottom of the fountain. Gritting her teeth, Sarah pulled herself across the basin to the statue in the middle, a sculpture that now looked more like a decaying leper than an angel. She braced herself on the bottom of the statue and reached up into the small bowl that used to overflow—
    Her fingers touched dry rock.
    No water. Not even a trickle.
    Damn! It had been almost dry when she'd left, but there'd been dampness. Now, it was bone dry. "Come on!" She had not allotted time to actually run out of water completely. She needed water now.
    Sarah grabbed the statue and hauled herself to her feet to look inside. The opening that water had been flowing through for a thousand years was dry. "Oh, man. This isn't good."
    Sarah shoved her fingers inside. Dry. "Oh, come on!" She grabbed a small rock, a fragment from the angel's toe, and clenched it in her fist as she leaned against the fountain, using the crumbling tower to hold her up. She hit the opening with the rock, trying to chisel it to make it bigger.
    The opening crumbled beneath her assault, getting wider and wider, and still no water. "Oh, crap. Seriously?" The rock fell out of her hands and clattered to the ground. "Dammit!" Tears of frustration burned in her eyes as she turned to retrieve it, and then she saw a shadow move in the woods.
    She froze, straining to see into the shadows of the forest. "Nonny?" There was a dark shadow, a quick movement, and her heart started to race as she saw the muscled bulk of a Calydon. Of course it was a Calydon. Who else ran around in the woods of Akara these days?
    Aching disappointment and loneliness arced through her at the realization that it would never be Nonny sneaking up on her again, and she fisted her hands against the grief, trying to steel herself. For two weeks, she'd fought to control her sadness, and she had to continue to keep control. Every minute she was in town, she was in danger, and she couldn't afford to get killed just because she was too upset to concentrate on staying alive.
    She had to focus on the movement in the woods, on the scout that had noted her arrival. It was daytime, so they wouldn't attack, and some might even be close to their normal human selves, but she knew she'd just been spotted.
    She'd have to leave town before nightfall and pray they didn't track her. How long could she keep sneaking into the village during the day and getting out at night before they figured out how to follow her? Not long. She knew it wouldn't be for much longer. And if they caught her tonight? Yeah, she'd last maybe five minutes. Tops.
    Which meant she had to find the damn water now . Her jaw jutting out in determination, she grabbed another rock and began pounding at the fountain. Her fingers were bleeding, and the rock slipped out of her aching grasp again. Sarah groaned as she watched it clatter across the pebbles, and slowly sank to her knees, leaning her head against the side of the fountain. She closed her eyes, the warm rock rough against her cheek as her body trembled. "This is ridiculous," she muttered. "It would be so anticlimactic to die sitting next to the fountain that is supposed to save my life. I'm really not this pathetic, am I?"
    "See what happens when you have sex with a guy and blow him off? It never ends well to break a guy's heart."
    Sarah whirled around at the sound of the male whose marks still burned on her arms.
    Standing behind her, his shoulder propped casually against the crumbling frame of one of the old buildings was Kane Santiago, a smug expression on his face. His torso was bare, showcasing the myriad of scars across his strong body, and his jeans hung low over his hips. With his hair tousled and spiky, the sun gleaming from behind him, his shoulders broad, he looked exactly like the savior who had plucked her from death and gifted her with the very depths of his emotions. But with his scars so vivid and raw across his body and the hard set to his jaw, he also looked exactly like Los Muerte himself, come back to life.
    * * *
    Sarah had no time to fear him. No time to worry about the talismans on his body. She just needed him. "Kane," she gasped, unable to keep the relief out of her voice.
    His