by Jaci Burton
“So you weren’t able to injure it in any way?”
“Well, yeah, actually, my silver knife. I stabbed it. It howled in pain, then disappeared in a puff of smoke.”
Lou paused on the other end of the phone. “Interesting.”
“Which means?”
“My guess is the Sons of Darkness have created a new form of demon. They might be recruiting humans, or kidnapping them and changing them into this new form of hybrid. I’ll have to alert the other Keepers right away.”
“Great.” Just what they needed. As if they didn’t already carry three different types of weaponry to battle these things. Any more firepower added to their arsenal and they’d be so gun-heavy they’d have to go hunting in tanks instead of on foot. “So now what?”
“I’ll get the Realm of Light on developing a new weapon to fight against them. In the meantime, see what you can create there.”
Oh, right. Because he was all about manufacturing weaponry while holed up in a villa in southern Italy. “Yeah. I’ll get right on that.”
He could almost see Lou’s smile on the other end of the phone. “You’re resourceful, Ryder. You’ll figure it out. In the meantime, your job is to protect Angelique. She’s the key to finding the black diamond. Eventually she’s going to have to surrender it, and she’s in danger from the Sons of Darkness until she does.”
“Got it.”
“And I wouldn’t put it past the Sons of Darkness to find you again.”
“That’s what I thought, too. Eventually we’re going to have to move again.”
“Keep me posted,” Lou said.
Ryder hung up and made a circle through the house, searching for anything he could use to make weapons. That was his first priority, because like Lou said, the demons were coming after them. He was certain of it. Running had only bought them a little time. The demons had found Angelique once-they’d do it again.
But next time Ryder would be here. Which wouldn’t do either of them much good without decent weaponry to battle the demons, especially if they sent more of the newly designed ones.
“What are you looking for?”
He stopped and turned, facing Angelique. “Silver.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what hurt the demon who broke in and attacked you.”
“Oh. Okay, then. Let’s go silver hunting.”
She moved around the house, opening closets and drawers, picking up every object and inspecting it carefully, laying the ones in the center of the room that were pure silver.
He liked that she didn’t ask a lot of questions or expect a ton of explanation. And she pitched in right away.
“There’s a locked cellar out back, by the way,” she added, throwing a pitcher into the pile on the floor.
“There is?”
“Yeah. It’s behind all those bushes at the far end of the property. I noticed it when I was wandering around the yard. That’s what I came in to tell you.”
He nodded. “Let’s go check it out.”
Okay, so this wasn’t their house, and he would be destroying someone else’s things, but they had to survive. The Realm of Light would take care of reimbursing the owner for the loss of anything they used, and Ryder and Angelique would be long gone before the missing objects were noticed anyway.
Angelique led him to the cellar, completely unnoticeable unless you were searching for it. Leave it to Angie to unearth it. They cleared the brush and Ryder knelt down to inspect the rather sturdy padlock. Not too sturdy, though, because Ryder had it picked within minutes.
“You’re pretty good at breaking and entering,” Angelique said with a wry grin.
“I’ve had some experience getting into places.”
“I’ll just bet you have.”
He discarded the lock and pulled the lid off, wrinkling his nose at the musty smell that wafted up at them from down below.
He turned on his flashlight and led the way down the thick stone steps. “Be careful.”
It was much cooler down here, and roomier than Ryder would have thought at first glance.
“Oooh, antiques!” Angelique said, her voice tinged with excitement. She hurried past him and knelt on the ground, inspecting what looked to be old pottery stacked up and wrapped in nearly transparent, yellowed linen.
Ryder zeroed in on the table at the back of the cellar. Just what he needed. Old swords and daggers, sheathed in ancient scabbards and leather holders.
“Let me see those,” Angie said, coming up next to him.
He handed one to her and she carefully pulled a sword from its scabbard. She held it in her hands like a woman would a newborn. Lovingly, gingerly, and with tender care. Then she put it down, her eyes lit up, and she sifted through the others.
“These are phenomenal. Cutlass, rapiers, daggers, even battle-axes. Some newer, some as old as medieval times.”
Angelique gazed in lust at the objects in front of her. Ryder laughed. “Gives you a thrill, huh?”
She didn’t turn from the weaponry in front of her. “You have no idea. These must be worth a fortune. I wonder if the current owner of this property is even aware of the treasures in here. Who would leave this stuff locked up in a cellar? They belong in a museum.”
“Not sure. Either way, they’re ours now. Gather these up.”
She finally swiveled and faced him. “What are you going to do?”
“We’re going to use these weapons. Now help me carry them out of here.”
“Ryder, these are antiques.”
“No, they’re weapons.” He scooped up an armful and waited for Angelique.
“We can’t take them.”
Ignoring her, he pivoted and walked out of the cellar, knowing she’d follow. He made his way back into the house and laid his stash on the kitchen table. Angelique put those she had carried alongside the ones he’d brought.
“I don’t like this,” she said.
“Duly noted. Now I need a blowtorch.”
Angelique whimpered.
He smiled at her misery as he walked out of the house and down the stone walkway. He didn’t think he’d be lucky enough to find a torch in this place, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to search the garage anyway.
Damned if the owner didn’t have a blowtorch in the garage. Actually, the garage was fairly well stocked with tools.
“It’s got to be my lucky day.” Not much had gone right the past few months. It was good that at least something had. They’d found plenty of silver, and now he had a torch hot enough to melt it down.
He grabbed all the silver and brought it to the garage, then found a pot sturdy enough to hold it all and set to work.
It was a tedious, painstaking task that took the better part of the day. And Angelique stayed right there with him, her goggles on to protect her eyes from the blinding light of the torch. He burned, she watched. And brought him drinks and food during breaks. She was silent the entire time, though from the sour expression on her face he was more than aware of her displeasure at what he was doing.
It wasn’t like he was melting down any of the antique weapons they’d found in the shed. Those he’d use later, after the silver was liquefied.
By the time he was finished, it was dark outside, and he was filthy.
“I’m going to go take a shower and let this cool down a bit. Then it’s part two.”
“Delightful,” Angelique said, wrinkling her nose.
He shook his head at her continued disgust with the process, and headed into the house to clean up. She followed.
“What, exactly, do you plan to do now that you’ve melted all that precious silver that didn’t belong to you?” she said, following him up to the bathroom.
He stripped off his boots and socks. “I’m going to coat all the weapons in the melted silver to use against the demons.”
“I see. So you’ll be ruining all the antiques, too.”
He dragged his shirt over his head and discarded it on the floor. “Yes, as a matter of fact I will be.”
“I really hate this, Ryder.”
“So you’ve mentioned.” He leaned in and turned the shower on, then flipped the button on his pants and dragged the zipper down.
Angelique’s gaze followed.
“You gonna hang in here and continue to argue with me?”
“I might.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” The pants dropped to the floor and he turned and stepped into the shower. “But if you’re going to bitch, talk loud. Otherwise I won’t be able to hear you over the water.”
“Damn you, Ryder.”
He heard the door close and grinned, then reached for the soap.
The man had the body of a god. Breathtakingly stunning. Muscles ran in ripples down his abdomen, his arms lined with clearly defined ridges. His thighs were like stout tree trunks, and she’d gone utterly female when he’d dropped his pants.
She’d completely lost her train of thought while he’d stood there, briefly and gloriously stark naked, before he turned and stepped into the shower.
She might as well have drooled while she was at it.
By the time she recovered her senses, it was too late to continue the argument.
Ryder was the most stubborn, infuriating man she’d ever known. And clearly, he had no idea what she did for a living. Or at least he didn’t care.
Angelique stared at the closed bathroom door and listened to the shower running, trying not to remember the sight of Ryder’s naked body. Though she doubted she’d ever forget. She sucked in a breath, blew it out with force, and contemplated opening the door to continue their discussion.
To what end? It wouldn’t get her anywhere. She knew what he was doing. And really, what choice did he have? It wasn’t like he was going to ruin the antiques out of spite. It was necessary for their survival-for her protection.
Still, it didn’t mean she had to like it.
Frustration was pointless. She decided to go downstairs to cook dinner and take her anxiety out on raw vegetables. It felt good to attack something with a knife.
And the vegetables didn’t talk back or argue with her. By the time she’d cut up carrots, zucchini, and squash, she felt immensely better.
“You’re dangerous wielding that knife.”
“You have no idea.” She didn’t turn or glance Ryder’s way. It was bad enough to be able to smell his clean scent. And her head was still filled with visuals of what he looked like without clothes. He had a mighty fine ass, too.
Irritated by her wayward thoughts, she scooped up the vegetables and tossed them into the pot, then shoved a plate at him.
“There’s a grill out back. Cook these steaks.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
After Ryder left, she concentrated on food instead of the effect his nearness had on her. Now that she had her wits about her again and had recovered from the attack by the demon, she was all too aware of how Ryder made her feel.
Frustrated, angry, irritated, turned on, curious, excited, flushed with heat, and filled with need. Mixed emotions for sure, none of which should be front and center in her mind. Finding her sister and staying one step ahead of the Sons of Darkness were her priorities.
She just had to figure out a way to accomplish both.
And maybe Ryder could help.
She opened a bottle of wine, deciding tonight they were going to talk, lay everything out on the table and see where they stood.
It was time for honesty, on both sides.
Which should make for an interesting evening.
CHAPTER FIVE
Heart pounding in excitement, Isabelle tried for nonchalance, but failed. She couldn’t help but gape as the launch took her out to Dalton’s yacht.
It was shiny, sleek, and beautiful, and she couldn’t wait to climb on board. She had a feeling her entire life was about to change.
She’d gotten his portfolio, read it through, and made a few phone calls for verification. It hadn’t taken her long after that to pack up her things and check out of the cheap hotel room. She’d practically sprinted down to the dock.
Okay, so she’d taken a shower first, changed clothes and made sure she looked decent. After all, she had a benefactor to impress. A stinking rich benefactor. If she played her cards right, all her dreams might soon come true.
The launch came up next to the yacht and she was helped aboard by a crew member who held out his hand and assisted her up the ladder.
Wow. Polished, gleaming deck, cushioned seating and lounge chairs, a bar, even a hot tub. Fancy stuff. Amazing the things money could buy.
“Mr. Gabriel will be right with you, ma’am. I’ll take your luggage to one of the cabins below,” the deckhand said with a short nod of his head.
“Thank you.”
She wandered around, running her hand over the railing and staring out to sea. Calm, blue waters, and underneath was the possibility of a lifetime. Butterflies flitted in her stomach, anticipation driving away the hurt and anger she’d carried with her these past few months.
Don’t think about it. Do your job and just forget.
A soft breeze blew strands of hair against her cheek. She tucked them behind her ear, enjoying the warm afternoon sun against her face. This was so peaceful, the rocking motion of the boat lulling her into a sense of security she hadn’t felt in far too long.
She needed good things to happen in her life. A dark cloud had been hanging over her head, and she was determined to blow it away.
Success could provide the hard wind she needed to obliterate that cloud. And money could supply a lot of amnesia. Then she could forget the bad things.
“Welcome aboard.”
She turned at the sound of Dalton’s voice, once again struck by an instantaneous attraction to him. More than just his appearance, though that part of him was mighty fine. White linen pants, blue button-down silk shirt, they both looked great against his dark tan. But it was more than appearance. There was the sexiness of his voice, the slow and easy way he walked toward her, the way he smiled as if he was genuinely happy to see her. What woman wouldn’t be affected by all that in one delectable package?
He held out his hand and she slid hers against his palm, then fought a shudder.
A zap of electricity, a sudden rush of heat.
Wow. Now that was chemistry. But it was more than that. Something behind his eyes, an awareness, as if she knew him. . really knew him. An instant comfort. She rarely felt that with men. Men always made her uncomfortable. She used them, definitely, but she was never at ease with them.
Dalton felt. . easy.
“Thank you for agreeing to provide the funding for this venture,” she said.
“I’m glad my portfolio met with your approval.”
She snorted, then clamped her lips together, unable to believe she’d done that. “Sorry. It’s just that. . who wouldn’t find your portfolio acceptable? You are a billionaire, after all.”
He smiled, seemingly not insulted. “I guess you have a point. Should I feel used?”
“Probably.”
Now it was his turn to snort. “I like an honest woman. How about a drink?”
Honest? Now that was a quality she’d never attributed to herself, but Dalton didn’t have to know that. “I’d love one.”
He motioned to a table under a shaded overhang. “Bloody Marys, Dimitri. Doubles.”
When he slid into the chair next to hers, she said, “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“No. I just like a strong cocktail. I can make yours a single if you’d like.”
She shook her head. “Not necessary. I can handle my alcohol.”
“Good.” He swirled the celery around the dark red liquid, then lifted the glass to his lips and took a long swallow. Something about that action really hit her hot buttons. The color of the drink was compelling. She took a drink out of her own glass, enjoying the hot, spicy flavor.
“It’s really good.”
He nodded. “Dimitri is a great bartender.”
/>
“So is this what you do with all your time? Sail around on your yacht?”
“Not exactly. I have many business interests that take me around the world.”
“Such as?”
“Financial interests. Investments. But my companies run well on their own and I can afford the best people. That leaves much of my time open for personal pursuits.”