Knights of White Bundle

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “What do you mean by encoded?” Des inquired.

  “She gave several examples of the type of text used, and none of it is easy to understand.” Jessica found a passage and read, “The fifth family born unto the Temple of Solomon.” Her gaze lifted from the book. “In other words, anyone who found the journal would have to do some serious research to figure out what they were reading. They wouldn’t just read a list of names and be able to hunt down the descendants of these bloodlines.”

  Rock chimed in then from where he stood at the kitchen counter making a sandwich. “So that’s good, right? That means if we get the journal back before it can be fully translated and researched, we at least have a chance to track those families and offer them protection.”

  “I would say, yes,” Jessica agreed. “Even great scholars would need time—as my mother said—maybe even years, to decode the list.” She bit her bottom lip. “A demon though. I don’t know. Maybe they would understand the information?”

  “Let’s hope Solomon came up with something they don’t understand,” Des commented. “But none of this explains why you think this had gotten personal for your mother.”

  Jessica hesitated. “My mother believed her family name to be on that list of bloodlines.”

  Des felt as if he had been punched in the gut, the implication of her words washing over him. Thank God they’d retrieved the diaries. If the Beasts found out about the suspicions that Jessica’s family was on that list, they would kill her.

  “Why did she think that?” he asked cautiously.

  “She’d pieced together the writings I mentioned she’d found and seems to have gathered certain family names who hold high positions on the list for some reason. She didn’t know for sure if her name was on the list, but she was strongly inclined to believe that it was. She also felt anyone on that list would be—”

  “Hunted,” Des said softly, trying not to scare her.

  “Yes,” she said. “She references demons in a few excerpts. She was tormented by that prospect, afraid to leave the journal buried and afraid not to. Afraid it would fall into the wrong hands.” Jessica swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat. “She didn’t voice a lot of this to those around her, worried she’d sound insane. But she felt driven to follow up on this.”

  “Rock,” Des said, his tone low and calm, though he felt anything but. “Call Jag.” He refocused on Jessica. “You’ll be safe at our training facility.”

  Her rejection was instant. “I’m not going anywhere but after that journal.”

  Oh, she was going. She might not think she was going, but she was going. He wasn’t letting her step in harm’s way. “It’s the only place you’ll be completely safe.”

  Rock’s voice could be heard, talking on the phone. An instant later, Jag orbed into the room and the other men slowly eased out of sight. “Rock says Jessica faces imminent danger,” Jag stated, his gaze shifting between Des and Jessica.

  Des watched Jessica eye his leader, her expression indicating no surprise at his dramatic entrance. At this point, Des doubted much would shock her. “I’m fine,” Jessica informed Jag. “Des is overreacting.”

  Des leaned on the table, his hands flattening on the wooden surface. “I’m not overreacting.” He cut Jag a sideways look. “Her mother believed their family to be descendants of angels.”

  “If this is true,” Jag said cautiously, “Des is right. You’re in danger, Jessica. Your mother’s bloodline will be a target.”

  She inhaled a heavy breath and let it out. “If I’m in danger so is everyone else on that list.”

  “Risking your own life will not save theirs,” Des countered, ready to tie her up and hand her over to Jag. He was not letting her get hurt.

  Jessica’s eyes flashed with anger. “You only have two options.” She glanced between Jag and Des. “One being to find the journal before Greg hands it over to the Beasts.”

  “He probably already has,” Des argued.

  She gave him a challenging look and countered his remark. “Then you need to find another way to the treasure box holding that list. And it is a treasure to the Beasts. We all know that. If my mother’s work is the key to this search, I am too. I can stumble my way around this Hebrew text better than any of you.”

  Des ground his teeth. “This isn’t a discussion, Jessica. You are going with Jag and that’s final.”

  “Who are you to tell me what to do?” she challenged, her finger pointed at her chest. “I decide what I do.” She grabbed the diaries. “I’m going to that bedroom you shoved me into when I first got here. And I’m going to read my mother’s diaries and find a way to get to that treasure before the Beasts.”

  Des watched her depart, fighting an urge to go after her. Who was he to tell her what to do? I’m your mate, damn it! Unbidden, the words screamed in his head, barely contained as he watched her leave.

  Jag leaned against the wall and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “She’s right, you know. She can help.”

  “She has no idea what she is getting into.”

  “She knows.” Jag spoke with confidence. “I showed her the battles. I showed her the Beasts.”

  “I won’t let her risk her safety.”

  “Her choices are her own.”

  Before he could stop himself, Des threw out a challenge. “If this were Karen, would you say the same?”

  Jag’s response wasn’t instant; his eyes narrowed on Des’s features. “Are you claiming Jessica as your mate?”

  Des let his head fall forward a moment. “Yes. No.” He lifted his gaze to Jag’s again and studied his friend. “How can she be? I thought you and Karen were a one-time deal. You’re our leader. She’s your wife from a past life. There has never been any mention of mates for the rest of us, no matter what we might dream of.”

  “Time will give you the answers you seek,” Jag assured. “If Jessica is your mate, you will know. Your Beast will hunger for her pure nature as much as the man does. The urge to claim Karen was almost impossible for me to fight.”

  It was more than an urge. More like a command. But Des didn’t say that. “If I claim her—what then?”

  “She has your protection. Your immortality.”

  “My life,” Des said flatly, reality playing hard in his mind. “She could never deal with what I am. She shouldn’t have to.”

  “Perhaps she can deal with it better than you do.”

  Des’s lips thinned, his defenses going on alert. Everyone knew Des embraced his Beast while the other Knights suppressed theirs. “I deal with it fine.”

  “By pushing the man out of the way,” Jag said. “But when will the man be lost?”

  “Hiding from that part of myself won’t make it go away,” Des proclaimed. The truth was, he’d been a slave in his mortal life, but had often felt more like an animal. He understood the Beast and, until Jessica’s arrival in his life, had managed its presence with ease.

  “Claiming the Beast so readily is dangerous, Des. Let Jessica help you find the man again.”

  “What if she finds the Beast instead?”

  “Perhaps you’re more afraid she’ll find the man than the Beast. It’s the man you don’t want to face. The man—and his past. You have to let go of what was and find what is.”

  Jag pushed off the wall. “You know how to reach me if you need me.” He disappeared.

  Des stared at the empty space Jag had stood in a few moments before, unsure where to go from there. Part of him wanted to storm down the hall and demand Jessica go to the ranch, to safety. The other part wanted to pull her close and never let her go. Wanted to tell her who and what he really was—-to explain both man and Beast—and believe she could accept him, even embrace their bond.

  But Des had long ago embraced hard-core reality and that allowed him to cope and thrive, to survive the eternal battle of good over evil. If he let Jessica in, if he let down his guard and she turned away from him, would he find his way back to sanity, to control of his Beast?


  He’d found a way to push the darkness aside without Jessica’s help for this long, he could continue. He couldn’t risk losing complete control. He would fight evil and win, both on the battlefield and within himself.

  No other option existed.

  Chapter 15

  Jessica stayed in the bedroom long enough to become paranoid, which amounted to barely an hour after her confrontation with Des and Jag, fearful she might get left behind. Which was nuts, of course. Des wanted to ship her off to some ranch, not leave her behind.

  The minute she entered the living room, her worries kicked into overdrive. Almost all the equipment was packed away, and there wasn’t a man in sight.

  She stormed toward the patio where the door stood open, intent on finding Des and confronting him. The revelations made while reading her mother’s diaries had only served to solidify what she knew deep in her gut anyway. The events of the past week were part of her destiny. A destiny that had started long before her mother’s involvement, and continued onward. A destiny she had to serve, and that meant going after the journal and that list.

  Light rain pelted down on the ground as Jessica stepped outside and made her way to Rinehart’s side, as he loaded equipment into a van. “Where’s Des?”

  Rain began to fall harder, and Jessica’s hair was plastered to her face, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t seeking shelter until she found Des.

  Rinehart motioned to a metal shed, two vans sitting near it, which Jessica hadn’t noticed before. “I wouldn’t bother him now,” Rinehart suggested, straightening as he nudged his cowboy hat out of his eyes. “He’s going over field plans with some of the Knights.”

  “What plan?” she asked. “When are we leaving?”

  “I’m not sure when you and Des are leaving. The rest of us leave in thirty minutes.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked. “Why would Des and I leave separately?”

  The rain turned to a downpour and Rinehart made a frustrated sound as he looked skyward. His gaze lowered and he quickly surveyed Jessica’s clothing. “You better go inside. Your, ah, dress is going to get a lot of attention.”

  She looked down, appalled to realize the pink material had become translucent. Embarrassed, she rotated toward the door, her gaze landing on Des as he approached from her left.

  He covered the distance between them with stealth speed, his hand closing around hers as he tugged her inside the house.

  “You might as well be naked,” he said, eyes sweeping her body, lingering on her chest, where her nipples peaked against the sheer material. “There are ten men running around here.”

  She shoved a clump of wet hair off her forehead. “It wasn’t raining this hard when I went outside.”

  “Why were you even out there?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” she demanded. “Am I a prisoner, Des? Is that it? We’re back to that?”

  He ignored her question, his hands sliding around her waist, pulling her tight against his body. “If that’s what I have to do to keep you from running around half-naked in front of my men, then yes.” Possessiveness laced the words, and damn the man, it made her hot. She didn’t want to be. Didn’t want to respond to such caveman-type behavior, but there was no mistaking the distinct ache forming between her thighs. And when his hand slid down her backside, molding her tight against his hips, against the proof of his arousal, she moaned before she could stop herself.

  A wicked smile played on his mouth as his lips drew closer, teasing her with the kiss to come. Her lashes fluttered, her nipples peaking beneath the cold, wet fabric. “Des,” she whispered. “I—”

  Suddenly, his hand went over her mouth. Jessica’s eyes flew open. He cast her a warning stare, his body stiff as he walked her to a corner to retrieve a stash of weapons that had yet to be loaded in the vans.

  She felt his arms release her, and she wanted to pull him back, a bad feeling twisting her in knots. A sinister charge suddenly laced the air. The sound of the rain seemed to magnify, louder, louder. No other sound existed. Even from Des, who lifted the lid of a box to display five guns. Thanks to her father’s military background, and insistence she learn to defend herself, Jessica knew they were all Glock handguns. And she knew how to use them.

  Suddenly she heard a shout. Des cursed, clearly getting more out of that shout than she had because he grabbed two guns and pointed them. At that same moment, the ceiling crashed in, two beastly looking creatures hitting the ground as if the fall had been nothing. They wore shiny suits she remembered from the vision Jag had given her, half their faces distorted, grotesque.

  Des fired both guns, one round after the other, unloading the weapons in their snarling faces, between their eyes. The creatures stumbled, fell.

  Turning to Jessica, he offered her the guns. “You know how to use them, right?”

  She nodded, accepting the Glocks, kneeling down to reload. Des followed her to a squatting position, his face intense, the look in his eyes primal and hard. His movements seemed effortless as he flipped open another case and removed a magnificent sword with detailed engraving on the handle.

  Impossibly, the creatures Des had shot in the head stirred, one already on his feet, a sword drawn. “Oh my God,” Jessica said, barely finding her voice. She raised one of the guns, unable to handle both at once, ready to fire.

  But before she could act, another Beast crashed through the sliding glass door, shattering it. She ducked, her hands covering her face as glass pinched at her skin. She peered between her fingers, afraid to be blind to what might come next. Des was in control, his moves swift and certain as he sliced the Beast’s head off with the weapon.

  Jessica jerked her attention away before the head hit the ground, unable to bear that sight. She aimed at the other two Beasts and fired, missing on her first attempt. Before she could make another shot, Des was in the middle of the room, matching blades with the two Beasts.

  She fired at yet another creature as it entered the broken sliding glass door, and this time she hit her target but the Beast didn’t slow. A second later, she was being dragged through the door, her gun crashing to the ground outside.

  “Des!” She screamed his name over and over, kicking as hard as she could and landing her heels on the Beast’s knees several times with apparently no damage.

  Suddenly, Rinehart and Rock were in front of the animal, swords in hand. The Beast laughed, low and deep. Evil. “You’ll have to go through her to get to me.”

  A gunshot rang in the air, once, twice, three times. The Beast stumbled and let go of Jessica. She fell down and scrambled around to face the thing. Its head hit the ground, followed by its body, Des’s sword swiping through the air. Her eyes locked with his, as the rain began again, pelting at their skin.

  The relief Des felt over Jessica’s safety was short-lived. Low growls filled the air, and big black dogs charged at them. Only they weren’t dogs. They were huge monster-like animals; fangs protruded from distorted faces, their eyes glowing red.

  A scream ripped from Jessica’s throat and Des raced forward, then grabbed her and shoved her behind his back. Rinehart, Rock, Max and Des formed a circle around her.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Rock said.

  “What the hell are these ugly bastards?” Des asked.

  “You don’t know?” Jessica shouted only to be ignored.

  “Best guess?” Max asked, his tone dry, unaffected. “Greg thought he hired men. He hired Hounds. We know what those double H’s stood for. Try Hell Hounds.”

  “Great,” Des said. “This party gets richer every day. I’m betting they die about like the Beasts. Anyone got any other suggestions, speak up now!”

  One of the dogs charged at Rock, and he sliced his blade through the air and took the animal’s head. It disappeared as if it burst into flames. Des and the other men prepared to charge at the dogs only to find the Hounds retreating.

  “Let them go,” Des said, eyeing the group. “I want everyone out of here in t
en minutes.” He tossed his weapon to the ground and reached for Jessica at the same moment she pushed to her feet. She rushed into his arms.

  He held her for several seconds, held her so tightly he knew she could barely breathe, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He had come so close to losing her, and it was the first time he’d felt this type of fear, this utter terror, since the day he’d watched Arabella die at the hands of the Beasts.

  When he loosened his hold, he couldn’t quite talk himself into letting go of her completely. His hands slid down her hair, framing her face. “Are you okay?”

  She swallowed and nodded, watching the flaming Hound body. “How does it burn in the rain?”

  “It’s fire straight from hell.”

  “Were they after me?”

  “Using humans as a shield is their way,” he said. “I don’t think they came for you.”

  Her eyes went wide. “They came for the diaries!” She started running for the house, but Des grabbed her hand. She turned to him, rain running down her face. “The diaries!”

  “Don’t leave my side,” Des said, yanking her close. The woman was trying to get herself killed. “Do you understand?” But he didn’t give her time to answer. He started walking, her hand still tightly circled by his. She followed him inside the house, and thankfully they found the diaries untouched.

  Jessica grabbed a plastic grocery bag from the kitchen and wrapped the notebooks in it to protect them.

  Once they were safely inside the Porsche, ready to depart, fears began to form. “They weren’t after the diaries, were they?”

  He shook his head. “They were here to kill us. They don’t want us anywhere near that box.”

  And Des didn’t want the Darkland Beasts anywhere near Jessica. Nor could he stand the idea of her being away from him. Yet, his life was about the Beasts, his destiny fighting their evil. He couldn’t keep Jessica close without exposing her to the Beasts, and he felt selfish for wanting to.