He reached for the door handle, needing to put distance between them. His willpower, the ironclad control he was so well-known for among his fellow soldiers, seemed nonexistent where she was concerned.
Holly sat in the truck. He assumed she was waiting on him to come to her side. When he opened the door for her, she didn’t move. “Holly?”
She turned her head to look at him. “What?”
Anger in her tone, he noted. “You’re mad.”
“You’re observant,” she retorted. “It must be those great warrior senses of yours, hard at work.”
He held the door with one hand, dropping his head between his shoulders so she couldn’t see his expression as he contemplated his response. This was like playing tug-of-war with his own mind and body.
Before he could answer, Holly slid down to the ground and faced him. Her hands went to her hips. “A warrior on the battlefield, a coward off.”
His head popped up, eyes narrowed and dark. “What in the hell does that mean?”
She snorted. “Figure it out yourself.” Grabbing her purse from the truck, she flung it over her shoulder and started walking toward the restaurant.
Mason let a low growl escape his throat as he shoved the door shut and quickly followed on her heels. Chasing after her was becoming a bad habit. His mind raced with options, emotions, anger…and yes, irritation. But it was short-lived as he analyzed her actions. Damn. She was trying to get an emotional response from him and he had taken the bait.
As he stepped into the diner, Mason found himself fighting a smile. The woman was impossible.
To ignore.
To resist.
He made a frustrated sound and silently added, to win an argument with.
Holly had slid into a booth and grabbed a menu before he was past the front door. Mason covered the distance between them, sitting across from her as he took in their surroundings, looking for escape routes and potential problems.
The first thing he noted was the emptiness of the place. They were the only customers. Good. The fewer people around, the less likelihood of trouble.
Several no-frills booths lined the walls with alternating red and yellow seats. Six regular tables covered in checkered cloths sat in the middle of the room. In the far back was a sign indicating a bathroom.
Turning to rest his back against the wall, he put one leg on the seat as he surveyed the scene behind him. The diner was connected to a bar by way of a huge cut-out door. He could see several pool tables and miscellaneous people milling around them. The sound of country music filtered through the air, as did the sound of pool balls clicking.
A waitress approached their table wearing a pink uniform and smacking gum like a teenager. Only she was more like thirty and had cleavage and big blond hair that screamed look at me. “Coffee for you folks?”
“Orange juice for me,” Mason said and, indicating Holly with a nod, “Chocolate milk for the lady.”
The woman smacked her gum. “Got it. I’m Janis. Be right back.”
Holly sat down her menu and looked at Mason. “What if I didn’t want chocolate milk?”
“But you did,” he said with certainty.
“That’s not the point,” she countered tartly.
He brow lifted. “Why do you want to argue with me?”
She glowered at him. “Why do you want to avoid me?”
He smiled. “Want isn’t the issue.”
“What does that mean?” a challenge in both her voice and eyes.
“I’ve already told you, Holly. There are—”
Janis sat down their drinks. “What can I get you to eat?”
Mason sighed. “Holly?”
“Cheeseburger and fries,” she said to Janis.
“Same for me,” Mason said, “only make it two.”
Janis eyed him. “Big appetite, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She tucked her pen behind her ear and grinned at him. She gave him a good several second inspection. “Looks like you handle it well. I like that in a man.”
Mason didn’t say anything. Janis turned and left swinging her hips a little too obviously as she did.
Mason refocused on Holly to find her frowning. “Janis was hitting on you.”
“No, she was not,” he said. “Besides, Janis is far from my type.” Then he lowered his voice. “There isn’t anyone who would take my attention from you.”
Holly snorted and looked away. “Whatever.”
“Holly,” he said reaching across the table and covering her hand with his. She turned to look at him the second he touched her, questions in her eyes. He answered the only way he knew how. “There are things about me you don’t know.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Yes,” she said in a clipped tone. “We’ve already established that.”
His lips thinned. “Things you won’t like. I am simply trying to protect you.”
“Protect me?” she asked with disbelief in her eyes. “If this is how you protect me, then stop. One minute you want me, the next you push me away.” Her voice quivered ever so slightly, giving him insight into her feelings. “Your form of protection is pretty hard to swallow.”
She averted her gaze and he knew he had hurt her. “I’m sorry, Holly.” He tried to relay how sincerely he meant the words in his tone.
She looked at him, surprise in her eyes. “Then don’t do it anymore.”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. Holly was so direct. “You never hold back, do you?”
“Not about things that matter to me.”
Mason sobered quickly. She wasn’t making things easy on him. “Tell me about yourself, Holly Heart. What matters to you?”
He was pleased to find her eager to talk. It was as if she let down some curtain and then him walk inside. She began talking without hesitation. About her parents, her research and even the dog she had as a child. Her voice wrapped around him like a soft caress. Watching her eyes twinkle and her expressions change kept him so spellbound he hardly remembered eating.
Mason paid the bill and was about to suggest they get on the road when her eyes lightened. “That’s one of my favorite country songs. Come dance with me.”
His eyes widened. “No,” he said. “We have to go.”
“Please, Mason. Just a quick dance. For a few minutes let’s forget everything and dance.”
“Holly—”
She cut him off with determined measure in her gaze. “I guess a tough guy like you doesn’t dance? Or is it against some Black Knight code? If so, is there a manual I can read?”
He stared at her. She was going to be the death of him. Before he could talk himself out of it, he pushed to his feet and held out his hand.
Her brow inched up but she didn’t move.
“Let’s dance,” he said, noticing the husky quality of his voice but not able to stop it.
His reward was her brilliant smile as she moved from the booth to her feet and placed her hand in his. “Thank you,” she said sweetly.
As she stepped closer to him, Mason trailed his finger down her cheek. He felt her tremble in response and everything male in him roared with approval. “You make it very hard to say no, Holly Heart.”
“Good,” she whispered.
Tucking her arm under his elbow, he led her to the bar. Dim lighting filtered through the room while the jukebox switched to another slow, country song. Covertly, Mason surveyed the room.
There wasn’t a dance floor so Mason simply pulled Holly into a dark corner and then into his arms. He was crazy for delaying their departure. Moving was critical to keep the Arions from tracking their position.
But here he was, dancing with Holly.
Together they melted into the shadows, her head on his shoulder. His hands slid up and down her back, along the perfect curve of her hip, and she answered him with a soft purring sound.
For the moments following, Mason pushed his concerns about the future aside. He was with Holly and nothing stood between them. Holding her was like comi
ng home. He felt a peace he hadn’t felt in years, if ever.
How long they clung to one another, swaying with the music, in perfect sync with every movement, he wasn’t sure. He could have stayed lost in their little world forever.
Reality invaded with a crash from behind. He stiffened, scanned the room and identifyied the noise as nothing more than a broken glass. Still, he knew they had lingered too long.
“We have to go,” he told Holly.
She nodded but her eyes were alluring, full of desire, and he found himself regretting the loss of their time together. Pushing to her tiptoes, she cupped his face with one of her hands. “Thank you for dancing with me.”
He covered her hand with his before bringing it to his mouth. His lips brushed her knuckles. “Anytime, anything,” he whispered.
They stood there, not dancing, not moving for long seconds. Forcing himself, he said, “We have to go.”
“Um,” Holly said. “I should go to the bathroom before we leave.”
He nodded as his hand settled on the small of her back. He walked her through the bar toward the restrooms.
“When you’re done, wait right here for me,” Mason told her before they each turned to the appropriate door.
* * * * *
Mason stilled, but only for an instant of confirmation.
Holly.
He had heard her cry his name in his head. Her fear wrapped around him, making his breathing tight, as if he had a vice on his throat, strangling him. Pure terror like he had never known made his stomach twist in knots. Forcefully, he closed his eyes and let his senses take over.
Images came to him as clear as if he was seeing them firsthand. There were two men in the women’s restroom, one standing in front of Holly, the other behind her, holding a knife to her throat.
He despised the Arions’ use of humans to perform their bidding. Humans were rewarded for their participation. If effective in the assigned task, in return, the human would be turned into an Arion. The Arions won in this matter either way. They had their will acted upon without bringing attention to their race and they expanded their kind with only those who would do their bidding.
Mason closed the distance between the two bathrooms in a matter of seconds. Moving with the soundless grace of a well-trained Knight and the speed of a superhuman, he pushed open the women’s door. He grabbed the man facing Holly and broke his neck. Before the man hit the ground, Mason had removed a shiny, round blade from his belt. Quiet and effective, it was often his weapon of choice.
In one quick motion, the blade was planted in the other man’s forehead. The knife the attacker had been holding to Holly’s throat fell to the ground, making a loud clattering noise.
He crumpled to the floor, whimpering with pain, but very much alive. Mason kneeled in front of him, removing the knife from his flesh. Using the man’s shirt, Mason cleaned the blade.
Looking into his eyes, Mason’s stare burned with pure fury. “When I clap, you will do to yourself what you intended for your victim.” He held the man in his hypnotic gaze and then asked, “Do you understand?” The man nodded, his eyes glazed with the trance-like state Mason had placed him under.
Mason pushed to his feet and reached for Holly. She was trembling, her arms wrapped around her body. Framing her face with his hands he looked into her eyes, intentionally grabbing her with his power.
“I’m here,” he said in a comforting voice as his thumbs wiped tears from her cheeks. “You’re safe. I would never let anyone hurt you.”
Her lips quivered. “I know.”
“We have to go,” he said, taking her hand.
She nodded, her eyes wide, her lips trembling as if she was icy-cold.
Mason pulled her behind him, guiding her into the hallway. He moved to release Holly’s hand but she held it tight, insistently. Understanding her need, he tucked her hand under his elbow and then clapped, setting the man in the bathroom into action.
Taking Holly by the hand again, he pulled her behind him and toward the exit.
Chapter Eleven
Mason looked up at the sky with a grim expression on his face. Darkness had fallen with a thick cloud cover, eerie, like something out of a horror movie. The moon was a strange grayish color, ominous and half-covered. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Inwardly he cursed their bad luck. Storms would only slow them down.
His senses told him there was no Arion presence in the direct area, but that didn’t mean they weren’t in danger. Humans were clearly at the Arions’ bidding. And he had to put distance between them and the diner before the bodies of the two men in the bathroom were discovered.
Mason went straight to the driver’s side of his truck, pulling Holly along with him, wanting to keep her near. He helped her slide into the truck. She stayed close to his side as he slid behind the wheel, holding his arm as if it was her lifeline.
He was glad to have her near so he could feel her alive and well. Damn, he had come too close to losing her. Once he shut the truck door, he wanted to hold her but there wasn’t time. He needed to get them the hell away from the diner.
But he worried about her. She’d been through hell.
She was a strong woman but seeing someone killed was a tough thing. It was also hard to face the evil of a man intent on making a kill. She had faced two such men on this night.
Two too many.
He could feel her delicate little shivers. Minutes passed but her body still hadn’t calmed. As soon as he felt it was safe, he pulled to the side of the road, fearful she was going into shock. He turned to her, pulling her into his arms, stroking her back and hair.
“I’m so sorry, Angel. I’m here for you. I swear I won’t let anything happen to you.”
It was said true Arion mates had many abilities with their partners, including a calming effect. At this moment, Mason prayed it was true. Her heartbeat was too fast.
He kept touching her, stroking and caressing her with gentle reassurance. “Breathe for me, nice and slow, in and out.”
She wasn’t responding well. He leaned back, looking into her eyes. Mentally, he reached out to her, calming her. He held her gaze. “Let’s try this again but keep looking at me. Let’s breathe together, Angel. Okay?”
She just looked at him.
He reached for her mind, silently willing her to comply. “Breathe in,” he said, sucking in a breath, feeling relieved when she did as well. Then he blew out a breath and she followed. They did this several times.
Gently, he caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. Her heart was beating a bit more normally now and he could see responsiveness in her gaze. “Better?”
She nodded but a choked sob escaped her lips and she tried to turn away from him. He didn’t let her. He grabbed her and pulled her into his embrace, holding her as he whispered comforting words of love. At first she resisted, as if afraid to let go but, moments later, she clung to him, her face buried in his shirt.
She was more like him than he’d realized. A need to be in control drove her actions and reactions far more than he initially thought. He understood what that felt like.
The connections he felt to Holly were like nothing he had ever experienced or even imagined. She reached inside him and made him whole. Seeing the sharpened edge of a blade against her throat had been pure torture. He tightened his arms around her.
How could he ever walk away from her? Yet how could he not?
His mind raced a million miles an hour, taking twists and turns and settling on a major concern. What would Holly’s reaction be to him killing those men?
Once she was over her initial shock, would she hate him for what he had done? Would she understand that he had been in soldier mode, protecting what was his?
He was a soldier, trained to kill when needed. And Holly was important to him both as a soldier and a man. If someone threatened her, he wouldn’t hesitate to take his or her life.
Fighting evil sometimes meant kill or be killed.
He ran hi
s hand down her hair, kissing her temple, her head and then her forehead. Tilting her chin up, he looked into her eyes, tears clinging to her lashes even though she had calmed.
She made an effort to smile. “I’m sorry I lost it like that.”
His eyes went to her soft, full lips. “Don’t be,” he said lowering his head, brushing his mouth across hers and tasting the saltiness of her tears.
“You saved my life,” she whispered against his mouth.
Underground Guardians BOX SET: Includes 'Protector' and 'Healer' Page 15