“Sheriff, please,” Sarah said. “Listen to Max. I have a bad feeling about this.” But it was too late. Sheriff Jenson shoved open the door and exited.
Max cursed and started for the side door. When he got there, he rotated around in a squatting position to look at Sarah. “Stay here until I know it’s safe. You remember what I said about the gun?”
“I remember all too well,” Sarah said, hoping she wouldn’t have the opportunity to unload a weapon into a demon’s head.
He shoved open the side door. “Hold it in your hand. It’ll make me feel better. And lock the doors.”
A second later he was gone, and Cathy didn’t hesitate to lock up behind him. Edward did the same up front. They both knew if Sarah said something was wrong, something was wrong. Sarah eyed Cathy who hated guns. “Pull your gun.”
“You know how I feel—”
“Pull the damn gun, Cathy,” Sarah said, her tone uncharacteristically sharp, but she didn’t care. She had Max and Kate feeding her the kind of information that created nightmares. This wasn’t the time for coddling Cathy. Better to have her alive and irritated than dead.
Not waiting for Cathy’s response, Sarah moved to the front of the van to claim the passenger’s seat next to Edward, who had his gun resting on the steering wheel, aimed straight ahead, ready for use.
The sheriff was knocking at the cabin’s front door. Max appeared to be scouting the exterior of the place. Sarah drew a breath, her chest tight. All they could do now was wait and pray all hell wasn’t about to break loose.
Max met the sheriff at the front door of the cabin after a quick sweep of the perimeter. All might have seemed in order, but instincts, and Sarah’s warnings, had urged him to peek inside the windows. The crazy drawing on the floor and half-burned candles confirmed Allen was into some sort of magic.
“We have to go inside, Sheriff,” Max said.
“I don’t have a search warrant,” he countered.
“Then look the other way and I’ll go inside.”
Max didn’t have time to talk in circles with this man. “Look,” he said, hands settling on his hips. “Arrest me if you have to, but I’m going inside.” He inclined his head toward a window. “You might want to take a look in that window before you make any rash decisions, though.” Sheriff Jenson’s lips thinned beneath his thick mustache as he huffed and then stomped toward the window, apparently none too happy about the decision put before him. Max rested his weight on one foot, watching Sheriff Jenson survey the inside of the cabin before cursing under his breath.
“Fine,” he said, walking toward Max. “We’ll go in.”
Max didn’t have to be told twice. Before the sheriff made it back to his side, Max had popped the lock and shoved the door open. He would have headed inside, but his gut twisted at the idea of allowing Sarah out of his sight for even a moment.
“I’ll check it out first,” the sheriff said forcefully.
Perfect. Max didn’t argue. Let the sheriff ride his power trip. At the moment, it served Max’s needs well. “I’ll get the others.”
Sheriff Jenson hesitated. “Make sure they know this has to be quick. In and out. The last thing I need is for Allen to drive up while we’re inside.” He turned and entered the cabin.
Max made fast tracks to the van; he stopped at the passenger’s window as Sarah rolled it down. “Well?” she asked anxiously.
“No obvious signs of danger,” Max said. “But I did find markings on the cabin floor.”
“What kind of markings?” Cathy asked, her voice lifting with urgent interest as she poked her head between the seats.
“I’d rather you look for yourself,” Max said, casting Edward a glance. “Drive under the carport and park.” He wanted them sheltered as long as possible—just to be safe.
“You forget we need gas.” Edward patted the dashboard. “This baby is running on fumes. I don’t want to power her up again until we leave.”
“Damn,” Max muttered.
“All’s clear inside,” the sheriff called from the door, motioning everyone forward.
Max waved his understanding before turning back to the van. “When you get out of the van, don’t linger. Run to the cabin and get behind closed doors.”
“You said you didn’t see any trouble,” Cathy countered, her tone full of concern.
“That’s true,” Max agreed, trying to calm her before she got worked up. “I’m just playing things safe.”
“Let’s get this over with,” Edward said, looking over his shoulder at Cathy.
“All right then,” she conceded with a heavy sigh that indicated she wasn’t all that sold on the idea.
Max yanked open Sarah’s door as Cathy and Edward exited the driver’s side.
“Something isn’t right here,” Sarah said. “Kate was trying to tell me something, and I felt another spirit there, something dark.” He watched her swallow, her throat bobbing with the action. “And then she was just gone.”
Max wasn’t sure what to make of that, but it was clear that Sarah was rattled. All this spirit stuff had him grasping in vain for a game plan that had some semblance of cohesiveness.
Edward and Cathy rounded the van, and Max eyed the Sheriff who stood on alert. “You two go on inside.” They didn’t argue, moving toward the cabin at a fast walk. Max watched their progress, scanning to ensure they were safe before turning back to Sarah. “Stay behind the door. Once they’re inside, we’ll follow.”
She didn’t respond, her expression troubled. “I wish I had the answers,” he said. “But we’ll find them. We’ll get through this. Have faith.”
She made a frustrated sound, shoving her hair behind her ears before hugging herself. “I gave up on faith when it burned me years ago.” Her gaze slid to the ground. “I’ll stick with caution as my guide.”
Clearly, something in her past had worked her over in a big way. Max understood pain, Lord only knew. But his reaction to Sarah’s emotions delivered a shocking bit of personal introspection. In four hundred years, no matter how dark his world, no matter how hard he struggled against his inner beast, he’d hung on, and he’d never lost his faith. He’d doubted himself plenty. At least once a week, he questioned why he’d been chosen as a Knight, rather than his elder brother. He’d beaten himself up daily for not saving his family. But when he went onto the battlefield, he believed in what he fought for. And that—that—was what kept him fighting off the battlefield.
He reached out to slide his hand down her hair. To be his mate, her soul had to be pure. She had faith and hope inside her. He’d felt it in her kiss, in her touch, as it had calmed the darkness within him. She simply had to find her way back to her true self. No matter how much he wanted Sarah to be the magic key to save his soul, the truth was, she needed a bit of saving herself.
Max slid his finger under Sarah’s chin as he lifted her gaze to his. “Then I’ll have enough faith for both of us,” he vowed, and motioned toward the cabin.
Her eyes flashed with vulnerability, and he wanted to kiss away her pain. Instead, he forced himself to focus on the imminent need for action. “Let’s go find some answers,” he said, backing away a step to offer Sarah some space.
His attention turned to the cabin where the sheriff stood waiting at the door, his impatience evident in his glowering look. No doubt he was worried about Allen’s return.
Max reached around Sarah and shut her open door. “Once we step out of the shelter of the van’s cover, start moving and don’t stop until you’re inside.”
She nodded and they went into action. They started for the cabin, and Max felt a sudden rush of awareness track along his nerve endings, a feeling of being hunted. He held his breath, not daring to let it out until Sarah disappeared inside the doorway of the cabin.
Max paused at the entrance, his senses screaming, on the alert. Beasts. A Knight could sense a Beast from miles away, though a Beast couldn’t sense a Knight. A definite edge over his enemies that Max had been thankful for mor
e than a few times. Without question, Max knew his enemy was near. The question was—did the Beast, or Beasts, know he was present? He grabbed his phone from his belt and checked for a signal, hoping to call Jag for backup. Nothing. Still dead. He scanned again but saw nothing, no movement, no Beasts.
The wind picked up with sudden fierceness, and Max realized it had all but disappeared while he and Sarah had been standing at the van. Back now, it packed vicious gusts, seeming almost angry, pounding anything in its path.
One more look around and Max entered the cabin, shutting the door and locking it, his mind racing, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He had three humans to get out of there safely and no idea how many Beasts he faced, let alone what other evil he was up against. He needed backup, and he needed it now.
You’ll get it when you’re intended to have it, he reminded himself. Faith. Hang on to your faith. It’s gotten you through four hundred years. It’ll get you through one more day.
In the near distance, a spark of fire appeared in the air and took human form. Adrian, leader of the Darkland Beasts, appeared on the outskirts of the small town of Nowhere, Texas. The wind lifted his long blond hair from his leather-clad shoulders as he surveyed the small wooden cabin. He was seething with resentment that his king, Cain, had ordered him to aid Prince Vars’s escape. He despised the royal chain of command, despised his inability to rank within those standings. No matter how much hell he brought to earth, Cain would always keep Adrian in his place, hold him one notch beneath in the gifts he was allowed, the powers he wielded.
He didn’t give a damn about Vars’s promise to help defeat The Knights of White. Adrian had no desire to see his victory credited to Vars.
Adrian crossed his arms in front of his chest. There were a few enticing angles to using Vars’s legion of demon spirits to battle the Knights. If those spirits claimed innocent human bodies, the Knights wouldn’t want to kill them. And it would shift the power to the dark side. But that power belonged to Adrian, not Vars. Which meant that Vars’s legion of demon spirits had to become Adrian’s, as well.
If Vars were to be destroyed, his legion of demon spirits would be inherited by the first power who claimed them. What better time to battle Vars than during his first few moments of freedom when he’d be weak and unpracticed.
Adrian laughed, realizing his king had given him a gift. Cain knew Adrian would not allow Vars to steal his glory. No doubt the king intended Adrian to steal Vars’s legion of demons.
Adrian snapped his fingers, and fire once again stroked through the air. Two nameless servants appeared beside him, tall and dark, with dark eyes, and faces chiseled into harsh features—Hell Hounds in human disguise. They were gifts from Cain. Pets who did as he bid without daring to think on their own.
“Secure the cabin and kill anyone who gets in your way,” he ordered. His pets instantly responded, shifting into their Hound forms. The two massive animals lunged down the hill, muscled bodies shifting with otherworldly force, their long fangs bared in warning to any who dared approach.
Adrian watched the creatures depart; they were so easily at his command, just as his army of demon soldiers were. He could almost taste the power of owning Vars’s legion of demon spirits. He might not possess the royal title he desired, but Adrian was well on his way to being indestructible. He stared at the little cabin, thinking how inconsequential it appeared, but how important it had become. Because inside that cabin, Vars would be set free, and when he was, Adrian would be there to destroy him.
That cabin had become the stage for war, and the stepping-stone to Adrian’s next level of power.
Chapter 9
Sarah hesitated as she entered the cabin, finding herself lingering, waiting for Max. Why—she didn’t know. Only that keeping him close felt important. As if her safety, and his, somehow depended on it.
Behind her, she heard him push locks into place, sealing them inside the cabin. A momentary feeling of claustrophobia, an impulse to turn to Max and tell him to unlock the door, shot through her body. She shivered and hugged herself against the pure evil that seemed to pour from the walls.
As if he sensed her need, Max stepped to her side, his hand grazing her back; a wave of calm rushed over her. She inhaled, chest expanding, wondering how Max had such an impact on her. How could a man, a stranger, somehow give her a sense of security when people she’d known for years could not?
Together, operating almost as one, Max and Sarah began surveying the room. It was a tiny cabin with a fireplace in the corner, ruffled curtains and framed pictures decorating the walls. Normal enough except that the furniture had been stacked against the walls to make room for the magical circle and triangle in the center of the room. Scented incense laced the air—most likely used for a summoning ritual.
Cathy sat on a big blanket that had been spread out on the ground. It was covered with books and magic supplies. Edward stepped to the center of the circle drawn on the floor and studied the intricate details of the star inside its frame.
“What do all the details inside the circle mean?” Sheriff Jenson asked.
Cathy looked up from the book she held. “There are specific types of circles used for different magical purposes, but the general gist is that the conjurer stands in the circle and evokes to the triangle. The demon or spirit, or whatever it might be, should theoretically be trapped inside the triangle. Unless the conjurer is foolish enough to call on a demon more powerful than they can handle.” She held up the book. “This is the Grand Grimoire. Black magic in its rawest form. It’s bad stuff. Allen didn’t start small. Once he dipped his toe, he went all the way, which leads me to believe he was one of the foolish ones who called on powers well beyond his own.”
“Your job is starting to make mine look easy,” Max said softly, for Sarah’s ears only. Somehow, from what Max had described of the Darkland Beasts, she doubted that. She would have replied to that effect, but paused with sudden awareness.
“Kate,” she whispered. “Kate, she’s trying to find me again, but she’s still fighting something. She’s—”
Pain shot through Sarah’s head with a force she’d never experienced before. She squeezed her eyes shut and found herself reaching for Max to keep from falling. Images charged into her head, violent flashes that cut in and out like a television with static interference, each flash delivering a jolt of pain.
“Oh, God,” she gasped with shock. She’d never had a vision come in such a burst of images, never felt trauma of this magnitude from a spiritual communication.
In some remote part of her mind, Sarah felt Max’s arms around her, felt herself sink against the wall of his chest, taking comfort in his presence, his protection.
The bit of reality that Sarah tried to cling to, slid into darkness, and there were just the images flashing in her mind, and pain—so much pain. Her head felt like it would explode, but she fought through her discomfort and fixed her mind on what she was being shown. Allen in the circle. A demon in human form—a huge man with long, black hair—standing inside the triangle. A name. The demon’s name. Vars. More pain. More images. A blood bond. A promise of one favor for another. Something else. Something important. She reached out, trying to understand, fighting through the blackness. Kate screamed, a horrid wrenching sound that tore through Sarah’s mind, her ears, her head. And then, Kate was gone—but not before she gave Sarah one more important detail. Not before telling Sarah what Vars had asked of Allen and how he intended to get it. Sarah clung to that last bit of information as darkness overtook her. Complete, utter darkness.
Max sat down against the wall, Sarah cradled in his arms. She was in pain, and damn it, he couldn’t do anything about it. There had been only one other time in his life when he’d felt this helpless, and that had been when the Beasts were killing his family. He couldn’t stand doing nothing.
“You’re sure this is a vision?” Max demanded, fixing Cathy in a desperate stare. She kneeled beside Sarah, holding her hand. Edward and the sheriff
hovered behind her.
Cathy opened her mouth to speak, but the words were lost in a choked scream of pain as Edward grabbed her hair, dragging her toward the other side of the room.
Max blinked, certain he was seeing wrong. A glance at the Sheriff’s shocked expression said he, too, didn’t believe what he was seeing. The sheriff acted quickly, pulling his gun and trying to find a shot that wouldn’t put Cathy at risk. He shouted orders at Edward, but Edward acted as if he didn’t hear him.
Edward’s eyes flashed red as he fixed his attention on Sarah before charging at the sheriff, half dragging Cathy with him for cover. A second later, the sheriff was flat on his back, Cathy on top of him, and Edward charging at Max and Sarah.
From there it was a blur. Acting on instinct, Max covered Sarah with his body and rotated at the hip landing a hard foot in Edward’s stomach.
He barely had time to face forward and right himself before Edward came at them again, his eyes flashing red—seemingly unaffected by the blow Max had blasted him with. And it had been a hell of a blow, considering Max had supernatural strength. Which could mean only one thing—a demon. That was all it took for Max to let his beast flare, to embrace his darker side.
This thing, whatever it was, wanted to kill Sarah. Max had seen it in Edward’s glowing red eyes. Max slammed a fist into Edward’s jaw. Edward’s head snapped back, and Max used the opportunity to slam him to the ground. A split second later, Max straddled Edward, pinning one of the man’s hands beneath his knee, holding the other.
Battle instincts in play, Max used his free hand to unsheathe a blade, ready to destroy the demon bastard pretending to be a friend, pretending to protect when he meant to destroy.
“Max!” Sarah’s scream pierced the air. “No, Max! No!”
Max heard her voice, reaching for restraint but struggling. He’d handed over control to his beast at some point, and the beast pressed Max to finish this, to take out his enemy. Max’s body literally shook with the effort to hold back, the muscles in his neck and shoulders contracting painfully. He wanted to kill Edward. He wanted to kill him in a bad way.
Knights of White Bundle Page 54