Knights of White Bundle

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “Well, this is quaint,” Cathy said. “So far the town looks more fairy tale than nightmare.”

  “Apparently, it normally is,” Sarah commented, reaching for the door and shoving it open. She’d been hunting the supernatural since she was twelve, tagging along with her parents before their deaths. They’d died at the hand of a friend who was possessed by a demon. Sarah knew better than to underestimate a situation because it “looked” safe. Nothing had been safe since their deaths. “Let’s size up the place before we haul our equipment inside.”

  Ten steps led them up to a porch that covered the front of the house. Cushioned chairs and couches sat in various positions, welcoming people to sit down and relax. Several wind chimes dangled from the roof, lifting with the wind. The scent of rain was in the air.

  Edward held the door open for Sarah, and she entered the house, her boots scraping against the hardwood floor. To her right was a small dining area where several people mingled around a table, sharing coffee, and to her left, a lounge area with a fireplace and winding stairwell—all part of the inn’s cozy allure.

  Sarah walked up to the desk directly in front of her and pumped her finger on the bell. A woman came down the stairs mumbling as she rushed forward. “All right, already. I’m coming.”

  The gruff response took Sarah by surprise, and she turned to see if Edward and Cathy shared her reaction, only to find them arguing, their voices low but laced with heaviness. A flutter of unease touched her stomach. The sheriff had spoken of odd, violent behavior in the townspeople.

  “Ringing the bell once was enough,” the fiftysomething woman said, as she shoved her glasses on her face and slammed the guest book down. “Impatience will get you in trouble, Miss.”

  In a different situation, Sarah would point out that she had rung the bell only once. Not this time. Not in this situation. “Sorry for any inconvenience,” Sarah said. “I should have reservations for three rooms under Meyers.”

  Before the woman could answer, two men came down the stairs exchanging heated words. One of the patrons in the dining area stood up and shoved his chair to the ground, yelling at the person he’d been speaking pleasantly to. The woman behind the counter screamed and took off toward them, as if intending to interfere. Sarah turned to find little five-foot Cathy poking a finger at Edward’s chest, fearless of his towering six-three frame.

  The door to the inn opened, and her eyes went wide at the unexpected sight of the man filling the entrance. Dressed in jeans and a leather jacket—that had to be hot considering the Texas summer, but damn he wore it well—he towered well above six feet tall; his shoulders nearly reached the width of the entry. His hazel eyes melted into hers for all of two seconds before he moved.

  Next thing she knew, she was lying on her back, the hot leather-clad man on top of her. A knife zoomed past her and planted into the wall next to her head.

  “You okay?” her stranger asked, near her ear.

  “Yes,” she mouthed, unable to find her voice. As okay as she could be with insanity and his rock-hard body surrounding her. Not to mention, the weapon she felt pressed against her leg. And it wasn’t the kind meant for pleasure. Whoever this stranger was, he came armed and ready to fight. If he lost control like the rest of them, they could all kiss their tomorrows goodbye.

  But he wasn’t out of control that she could see. And it seemed they were two sane people, alone in a crowd that seemed to be losing their minds.

  A crashing sound put them both into action. He eyed the counter and in silent agreement, they scrambled behind it, taking shelter. They both settled with their backs against the solid surface, waiting for what came next.

  But nothing happened. “Do you hear that?” Sarah whispered.

  He frowned and rotated to face the counter, squatting beside her, listening. The sound of nothingness filled the air. Complete, utter quiet had taken over where chaos had ruled.

  “Let’s hope this is a good sign,” he said, as he eased upward to check out the situation. But Sarah had a feeling this was only the beginning. The beginning of what?—that was the question.

  Max eased from his squatting position, analyzing the reason for the sudden silence. He knew he’d been sent to Nowhere, Texas, as part of a test. The ultimate test that would decide if his soul was worth saving. And as he peered from behind the desk, taking in the sight before him, he had no doubt that the test was not only already in full-blown effect, it was going to be hell.

  Scrubbing his jaw, he watched as the faces of the inn’s guests filled with bemusement, as if they had been zapped back to reality and struggled for their memories. They had no idea they’d just damn near killed one another.

  In his four hundred years of living, three hundred and seventy of it had been spent fighting demon foot soldiers and protecting unknowing humans. He’d stuck to his own kind, The Knights of White; he had no clue what to do with a bunch of humans who’d clearly lost their marbles. But how ironic that he was here, dealing with them now, considering he’d gotten in trouble for killing a human—albeit an evil human, but it still broke the rules.

  Beside him, the gorgeous blonde, who had his gut tightening and his heart pounding, peered out from behind the counter. “They don’t know what they did, do they?”

  “It doesn’t appear so,” he commented, discreetly inhaling another whiff of her jasmine-scented perfume. He cut her a curious glance. “Why is it you weren’t affected?”

  She narrowed her eyes on him. “I could ask you the same.”

  He laughed at that, watching her walk toward a petite brunette and a big black man. She had spunk, this one. Max felt an unnatural desire take hold, to pull her back by his side, to kiss her until she told him what he wanted to know.

  There was something deep inside him that seemed to respond to this woman, seemed to call out to him. No woman had ever drawn such an instant reaction. The kind of reaction he’d heard spoken of as a sign of mating. But then, that seemed unlikely. He was inches from being destined for hell. He would not be rewarded with a mate.

  Then again, this was the ultimate test he was living, a test that would push him to his limits. Perhaps, facing his mate and being strong enough to walk away, selfless enough to put her needs first, was part of that test. To claim her would mean locking her to him eternally. She would share his destiny, which was uncertain at best.

  Of course, there was one other option. She could also be part of some sort of demon trick or manipulation. He couldn’t be too cautious at this point.

  Max decided whatever her role in this test—and she had one, of that he was certain—he had better keep her close. He stepped forward and joined her and her friends. “How is everyone?” he asked. “No serious injuries, I hope?”

  The blond, would-be mate, would-be trickster answered. She had a soft, sweet voice that danced along his nerve endings with sensual results.

  “Thankfully, they seem to be fine,” she said, her gaze on him, a probing look in her sea-green eyes. “They don’t remember any of it, though.” She paused and studied him. Something in her probing stare gave him the impression she was looking for a reason to distrust him. “I’m Sarah Meyers, by the way.” She motioned to her friends. “This is my research team, Cathy Wilburt and Edward Marshall.”

  He inclined his head at the introductions. “I’m Max,” he announced, not willing to give a last name. He hadn’t used one in centuries. His past was his past.

  “Nice to meet you, Max,” Sarah said, offering her hand.

  Max steeled himself for the impact as he reached out to accept Sarah’s hand. The minute their palms connected, molten heat shot up his arm. Shock darted across her face, and he knew that she, too, felt what he did. Discreetly, he cleared his throat, withdrawing his hand with regret. “What kind of research do you do?”

  Before Sarah could answer, a murmur of concerned voices filled the room as it grew darker inside; the sunlight was no longer shining through the windows. Rain began to beat fiercely on the roof. Someone
flipped on several lights as both Max and Sarah looked outside, to the storm that was stealing the attention of the other patrons.

  “What the hell?” Max said, half to himself, his voice low. The rain was black. A thick, greasy-looking black.

  To get a closer look, Sarah stepped to the window. At the same moment, Max moved, as well, claiming a position beside her. Their shoulders brushed, and for a moment Max felt as if they were one. Neither moved, neither stepped away from the other.

  After several seconds, she glanced at him. “Do you believe in supernatural experiences?” she asked.

  Max drew in a breath and let it out. “Yes,” he said, eyeing the darkness outside the window, the sun having disappeared.

  Sarah shivered and hugged herself. “Something evil has come to this town.”

  Max feared she was right. He knew evil in an intimate way. Long ago, a Darkland Beast had bitten him, turned him into a demon, his soul lost. Though he’d been given back that soul, saved to fight evil, he’d felt that sinister reality—still felt it—inside him. He still possessed the primal side that the Beast had created. Yet nothing he had felt, past or present, nothing he had experienced, came close to the sinister feeling that crawled through the air this day.

  Whatever caused that rain, whatever caused the humans to lose control, was evil personified. And Max knew he had to destroy it.

  Before it destroyed him, and everyone around him.

  Chapter 2

  The lights flashed and then went out; the inn was cast, once again, into dark shadows. The room grew silent, the people inside transfixed by the sight of the black rain.

  Max and Sarah remained side by side, arms touching, watching the oily-looking substance pound into puddles on the ground. Sarah’s presence beside him drew unfamiliar feelings. A desire to keep her close and safe. The way she lingered near him, allowing their physical connection—the touch of two strangers—seemed to indicate that the invisible bond between them was growing without effort, growing from simple exposure to one another.

  It was Edward who broke the silence. From behind Max and Sarah, his deep, gravelly voice filled the air. “Shouldn’t we call the sheriff?”

  Sarah responded by turning to the woman behind the counter. “Can you get him on the phone?” she asked.

  Max’s eyes remained transfixed on that cursed black rain one more second before he glanced at Sarah, wondering what kind of evil was going to try to thwart his ability to claim his mate. If she were his mate, he reminded himself. She could be part of a trick.

  “I doubt the sheriff can help with this,” he pointed out.

  “Unfortunately, there’s truth to that,” she said. “That’s why he called my team to assist. But he still needs to know what just went on here.”

  “Phone’s down,” the front-desk clerk called out, concern lacing her now friendly voice. Gone was the grumpy, gray-haired woman who’d yelled at Sarah, replaced by a sweet woman with fear in her eyes. “Computer, too.”

  Reaching for his cell, Max checked for service. “Nothing.” Max held up the screen for her to see the no-service notation.

  “Damn,” Sarah murmured.

  “I’d say we should get our equipment,” Edward said, “but it’s outside. And frankly, I don’t want any part of that junk falling from the sky.”

  Cathy interjected, “If they can log our reservations manually, we can get checked into our rooms. Then we’ll be ready to set up when it stops.”

  “If it stops,” Edward muttered bad-naturedly, a snort following his words.

  Cathy nudged him. “Be positive for once.”

  “Yes,” Sarah said. “Be positive. And grab me a room key, too, please.”

  Max wondered what equipment they were referring to. “You said the sheriff requested your presence?” he asked, as Edward and Cathy moved out of hearing range.

  “Right. Apparently there had been some strange things happening before the rain.” His brow lifted in question and she responded, “As in supernatural things.” She hesitated and then added, “We’re paranormal investigators.” She dropped the words into the air with emphasis, much like dropping a bomb. Then she waited, studying him closely, giving him a second to reply. When he didn’t, she asked, “No smart remarks? No rolled eyes?”

  “I was actually thinking the sheriff was a pretty smart guy,” Max commented. “Because whatever is going on here isn’t of this world.”

  “I’m amazed to hear that you believe in the supernatural,” she said, surprise in her voice. “Most people either don’t believe, or won’t admit they do for fear of looking silly.”

  He eyed the black rain flowing by the bucketful, hard and fast. “If I didn’t believe before this storm, I would now.”

  “There are all kinds of scientific explanations for black rain,” she inserted.

  “And we both know they’d all be bull crap,” he quickly countered.

  “Yes,” Sarah said, amusement lacing her words as she repeated his statement. “They would, indeed, be ‘bull crap.’” She sobered quickly, as her gaze scanned the room. Around them people murmured concerns, fear in their voices. “And clearly these people know that.”

  “It’s in everyone’s best interests that we figure out what’s going on,” Max asserted. “How about I lend you a hand with your investigation? I’ll go grab that equipment of yours. And while I’m at it, I’ll get my laptop computer. It’s got a hell of a battery, and I’m not half-bad with research.”

  “Aren’t you worried about that rain?”

  “I’ve been chin deep in all kinds of sh—er, junk in my lifetime. A little black water isn’t going to make me melt.”

  “You don’t think it can hurt you,” Sarah said, and it wasn’t a question. A hint of suspicion laced her words. “Just like you weren’t affected by whatever made everyone start acting weird. Why is that?”

  She didn’t trust him and he didn’t blame her. But he couldn’t afford to trust her, either. Not with everything he had on the line. A fool he was not. Sarah could be part of his test. He countered with a reminder. “I believe I asked you that question a few minutes ago and you avoided it.”

  She seemed to hesitate. “Yes. I guess I did.” She paused, and then admitted, “I’m a medium. As in I communicate with the spirit world. Have been since I was about twelve. I assume it must offer me some sort of mental shield.”

  Interesting. So, she wasn’t like everyone else here any more than he was. That supported his theory that she was his mate, the light to his darkness.

  A frown dipped her brows. “No comment?”

  Max smiled, resisting the urge to reach out and brush his fingers down her ivory cheek. “You want me to say I don’t believe you, don’t you?”

  They stared at each other for several seconds, her eyes searching his. She was seeking something in his gaze, something he didn’t understand. But he wanted to. He wanted to understand everything about this woman.

  Her lashes fluttered and she turned to the window, her fingers spreading on the panel. “People don’t understand what I am.”

  The statement, the emotion attached to her words, took him off guard. He felt pain that wasn’t his own. He felt her pain. It was as if they were one, bound without the actual mating ritual.

  “This isn’t my first supernatural experience,” Max confessed, wanting her to know she had found acceptance in him. “In fact, I have a few talents of my own.” Like immortality, he added silently. Unless someone sliced off his head or bled him dry, he wasn’t going anywhere. He could feel pain, he could even get hurt, but he’d heal.

  Her head whipped around, body tensing, her attention fixed on him. “Meaning what?”

  “You investigate what can’t be seen, Sarah,” he said, shoving aside his jacket enough to expose several weapons. “I hunt things you don’t want to see. Things, I can promise you, most people don’t want to even know exist. Let’s just hope you don’t see them for yourself, though I fear you might. Something is telling me our two world
s have come to a crossroads. We need to figure out what we’re facing before it finds us.”

  Confusion flashed on her face. “I feel the same thing. It’s…unusual.”

  He continued, “Time is what matters right now. We need to figure out what this rain means before something else happens. If that equipment of yours will help, I need to go get it.” Max held out his hand. “Keys?”

  “Okay,” she said, “but I’m not done asking questions. Not even close. If I consider working with you—and I’m not saying I am—I need to understand who and what you are.”

  He inclined his head. “Understood.”

  She gave him a probing inspection, seeming to gauge his words. Apparently accepting his reply, at least for the time being, she gave him her back, walking over to the front desk where Edward and Cathy were busy with check-in. She whispered to her friends. After a moment, Edward and Cathy twisted around and looked at Max as if he were insane.

  A long, hard stare later, Edward reached into his pocket and tossed the keys to Max. “It’s your death wish, man.”

  Max caught the keys and smiled. “They don’t call me Wild Thing for nothing,” he commented dryly.

  Sarah stared at Max, ignoring his joke. She wasn’t buying into his nonchalant attitude about the rain. He might have some sort of “gift” as she did, but she was pretty darn certain he was aware he was taking a risk. There was no telling what effect that rain could have on what it touched.

  The idea of Max risking his safety bothered her. Not that he couldn’t take care of himself. Still, for some reason, she fought the urge to insist he not do this. She also knew herself well enough to know her feelings were a bit over the top. She had to assume her emotions were getting mixed up with those of the female spirit making contact. It was clear this spirit worried for her husband. That could happen. At times, she felt the spirits so intensely, they almost became her.