Primal Heat 05 - Darkness Reborn

and she could sense the commitment they had to each other.
    What would it be like to have strength like that at her back? It reminded her of too long ago, before the people she'd cared about had all died.
    Kane turned his head suddenly and looked right at her. Sarah.
    His voice was like a warm strength curling through her mind, and she couldn't stop the sudden burn of tears. What?
    You're not alone anymore. I have your back. Even Ryland does, though I'll have to kill him if he makes a move on you.
    She stared at Kane, at the massive, deadly warrior who dwarfed the fountain that had once been so big, and she felt the honesty of his words and she wanted to cry with relief. She wasn't alone. Regardless of who he once was, or who he might become, right now, in this moment, she could count on him, and that was an unbelievable gift.
    But even as she began to relax and feel good about trusting him, she felt the slither of something dark inside him, beneath that rugged commitment. It was the kind of evil, tainted darkness that had destroyed so many, so brutally, for so long.
    Kane's eyes narrowed, and she felt a sudden surge of the violence inside him. What do you know about me?
    Dear God, what could she say? Was he really Los Muerte? I—
    "Got it." Ryland shouted from the back side of the statue. "This is the spot."
    Kane turned away then, sparing her answers she wasn't ready to give…for now. But she'd seen from the look on his face that he wasn't going to let it go. He was going to demand answers, and as she rubbed her hand over the brand on her arm, she knew there were things she simply couldn't afford for him to know.

Chapter Seven
    The darkness inside Kane was getting worse with each passing moment. It had been getting exponentially stronger since he'd first walked into the village of Akara two hours ago, waiting for Sarah's return. He rubbed the back of his neck restlessly as he knelt at the base of the crumbling fountain, studying the crack in the rocks that Ryland had pointed out. He felt like his skin was peeling off his body, like the scars were made of acid, burning through his skin.
    What the fuck was going on?
    Ryland set his hand over the crack at the base of the statue. "The air is damp here. There's water beneath the ground."
    Kane tested the air, and a cold blast of damp air hit him. It sizzled against his palm and he pulled his hand back. Across his palm was a blood-red streak, as if he'd been lashed by a burning whip. "Shit."
    Ryland's dark eyes met his, and he flipped over his hand, showing Kane that his skin was clear. Not a mark.
    "Thano."
    The third warrior placed his hand over the crack. "It feels damp," he agreed. "Definitely water under there." He pulled his hand back and showed both of them. Again, not a mark.
    The three warriors exchanged grim looks, and again, that cold, threatening energy seemed to swell inside Kane, like a chisel trying to crack his soul. Astronomical pain slashed through him.
    Worse now. Getting worse. Why was he different from Ryland and Thano? What the hell was going on? He closed his fist, refusing to get dragged down into fixating on it. His mission was to get Sarah water, and then he could deal with everything else. "Let's get this damned fountain out of the way then."
    "Wait." Sarah's desperate voice interrupted.
    "What's up?" Kane turned to look at her, and the moment he saw her again, he felt like he'd just been sucker-punched by his first sighting of her in over two weeks. She was leaning against the crumbling wall, her face pale and weary, but her eyes were brimming with fire and passion.
    Jesus. She was real. Ever since the night he'd met her, he'd had her only in his mind, trying to piece together what she really looked like, trying to figure out exactly what that whirlwind night had been about. He'd seen her only in the dim light, so his memories were of how she felt beneath him and what her voice sounded like. He could still remember the white light fading in her soul, and the beauty of her spirit as she'd flooded him when the darkness had tried to take him.
    She'd become almost a fantasy, a phantasm who'd blown into his life in the night and vanished by morning. With each day that had passed, it had been more and more difficult to hold onto the details of who she was, and with each day, the void in his soul had become stronger and stronger, until it felt like there were a thousand pounds of weight crushing his lungs, making it almost impossible to