Cathy appeared, standing above them, and stared at Max. “Oh, crap,” she gasped, just as Sarah had moments before. “You’re bleeding as much as he is. What can I do? How can I help? Are you okay?”
Max noted Cathy’s rambling. If Edward was right, it was a sign of nerves. Unfortunately, Max wasn’t exactly in a position to offer comfort right now. Max tied off Sheriff Jenson’s wrist with a tight knot. “I need you to drive, Cathy.” He eyed Sarah as he reached under the sheriff to pick him up. “Can you open the side door for me?” She nodded and rushed to do as he asked.
Weakened from his own blood loss, Max forced himself to work through it. Lifting the sheriff took more effort than it should have, the pain in his gut ripening with the movement. But Sheriff Jenson had sacrificed himself to save Cathy, and that made him a hero in Max’s book. Guilt added to the pain in his stomach. He should have gotten to him sooner, and maybe he wouldn’t be in the shape he was now.
Max settled the sheriff into the back of the van, hating that he had to place him next to Edward. The minute the injured man was on the floor, Max turned and pulled Sarah inside, eager to get her into a secure place, out of the open.
He slid the door shut. “Now, Cathy,” Max called to her, sitting down before he fell, and sliding to the wall to use it as a support. “Hit the accelerator and don’t stop until you get us to a doctor.”
Max knew he needed to tie off his wounds to stop the bleeding before he allowed himself to rest. He reached for his knife and started for the sheriff, needing a piece of his shirt to make a bandage. Sarah held out her hand. “I’ll do it.” She pointed to the wall. “Sit back and rest.”
He started to argue and decided he was in no shape to win. “I was going—”
“—to cut off some of his shirt to make another bandage. I know. I’ll do it.”
He would have smiled at her determination if not for the dizziness floating around in his head. Instead, he leaned back against the wall as ordered, and let his eyes shut. He healed quickly. Even small bouts of rest would allow his blood to start clotting, the magic of immortality to start taking hold, to start healing his injuries.
He didn’t want to sleep, didn’t want to let down his guard, but his body demanded attention. A few minutes of rest…and then he could fight again.
Sarah surveyed Sheriff Jenson, quickly checking for a pulse, and for any wound needing attention that hadn’t received it yet. Satisfied he was stable, she reported as much to Max and Cathy, certain Max wouldn’t let her help him until he knew the sheriff was well taken care of.
She sliced long pieces of material from the man’s shirt, ignoring Edward’s snorts and grunts behind her, because they spoke with brutal reality about just how close the demon remained to them. How easily it had insinuated itself into their group. Once again, her life had been touched by a demon possession. She hadn’t completely gotten her mind around that yet, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Not now, when she had to stay sharp, ready for the next challenge.
Rotating, she scooted to Max’s side and onto her knees. His head was back, eyes shut. Not wanting to startle him, she reached forward and pressed her hand to his jaw. “Max,” she whispered, watching his lashes lift as if weighed down. “I’m going to tie off your wound. Okay?”
“The sheriff—”
“Is stable,” she assured him, wrapping the cloth around his leg and tying it off as hard as she could. The Hound’s fangs had shredded his pants, and she couldn’t bear thinking about those nasty teeth in his flesh. “Were those the Darkland Beasts?” she asked.
He laughed but the sound held no humor; his eyes drifted shut. “Those were nothing but pets. Nowhere near as nasty as the Beasts.”
“Oh,” she said, not happy with that answer. If those were “pets,” she didn’t want to see the real thing. But one thing was for sure, she knew she had been right to believe Max. Her instincts were on target. Now she had to shoot straight with Max, so neither of them could be taken off guard.
She nudged his legs. “Lay them flat so I can see your stomach.”
“As long as you promise not to get all worked up over it,” he said.
“I’m already all worked up. I saw how bad it is.” She firmed her voice. “Put your legs down.”
He did as she ordered and she studied his wound, her chest tight with worry. She didn’t want him to die. What if he died? What if Edward died? Everyone around her got hurt. She inhaled and told herself to calm down and take action, rather than fret. She wondered how Max managed to carry the sheriff with that kind of wide-open gaping wound in his gut.
Another inhaled breath and she went to work quickly tying strips of material together. She leaned forward and braced her hand on his chest. Max’s eyes shot open, his hand going to hers, covering it. Despite the darkness of their circumstances, the intimacy between them shot to red-hot in an instant.
Sarah cleared her throat, trying to find her voice, her eyes still locked with his. “I need to wrap the bandage around your waist,” she explained, leaning forward, worried about the blood he was losing, not wanting to waste time.
She had nothing to soak the blood up with, and her T-shirt was already thickly covered with a combination of the sheriff’s and Max’s blood. “How close are we to town?” she called to Cathy.
“Another ten minutes,” Cathy replied. “I think I saw the doc’s office when we first arrived. I’ll head straight there and hope someone is home.”
“That works,” Sarah said, sliding the cloth behind Max’s back and around his waist. She tried not to think about the wave of warmth washing over her body, the sexual awareness well beyond inappropriate at this moment. The way she sensed this man on so many levels, so without reason or rationale, confused her.
Once she finished her work, Sarah found it to be poor at best. Blood was already staining the cloth. “Thank God we’re almost there. You need a doctor.”
Max grabbed her hand and pulled her close. “I need all right,” he murmured, his fingers lacing into her hair, their mouths only an inch apart. “You forgot something.”
“What would that be?” Sarah whispered.
“A kiss to make it all better,” he replied, a smile hinting on his sexy mouth, pain clearly keeping him from more.
She didn’t hesitate, not about to deny a wounded man—especially not one she found so damn appealing. She pressed her lips to his, feeling him inside out with that simple act of intimacy, wishing deep in her soul she could escape with him into that moment. That she would wake up in a warm bed, him by her side, all of this nothing but a bad dream.
When she finally found the will to pull away, she took a few lingering moments to drown in those hazel eyes of his. “Now, damn it,” she said, “get well. That’s an order.”
Adrian watched from a distance as the van sped away, a smile touching his lips. Normally, the presence of a Knight would make him furious. Every time he turned around, those damn Knights got in his way. He wanted their destruction and nothing less would do. But he knew this Knight. Max. He was one of the original Knights—Raphael’s first attempt at battling Adrian’s army—most of whom had succumbed to their dark sides and now fought for the Beasts. Adrian had been collecting the former Knights, forming a special unit to lead the battle against their present-day counterparts. Max walked near the darkness, barely touching the light. That he had survived so long spoke of his strength. He would be an excellent addition to this unit. Of course, it was a pity Adrian had shown his hand with the Hounds. They would surely alert Max of the Darkland presence. But he wouldn’t know for sure.
His next move must be considered carefully. Or perhaps his next move was to do nothing at all. Though Cain had ordered him to contain the town, to stop anyone from leaving, Cain would appreciate the magnitude of this opportunity. A trap could be set. Max would leave Nowhere and find a phone. He’d call his faithful brothers-in-arms and they’d race to the town’s aid. Yes. Adrian rather liked where this was leading. The more the merrier as far as Ad
rian was concerned. Cain would feel the same. Once the Knights were here in full force, Adrian could put his Beasts and his new legion of spirits to good use in battle.
On the other hand, the last thing Adrian needed was Max, or the woman who he sensed was Max’s mate, getting in Allen’s way. Adrian wanted Vars free so he could steal his powers. The woman would have to die. Which was really quite a perfect idea. Max would then be sealed in darkness. Max would fall to the beast and become one of Adrian’s army. Perhaps a little chat with Vars was in order. He’d allow the Vars to feel involved in his little plan to destroy the Knights, use his resources, build a little trust with the demon prince. Then, when the time was right, Adrian would destroy Vars just as he would the Knights.
Who would have thought a place called “Nowhere” could deliver such satisfaction?
In fact, this could prove a good test for his high-ranking Beasts, as well. He needed a new second, his last Segundo having betrayed him by trying to steal his place with Cain. The Beast who reined supreme on the battlefield against the Knights would begin his training as the new Segundo. Adrian smiled at the sheer brilliance of his own mind and then flashed out of the town, fire and malice lacing the air in his aftermath, his destination the Underworld. Cain would be pleased with his plan to destroy the Knights, although he’d leave his plot to destroy Vars out of things. Once he had Vars’s powers, Adrian might well be strong enough to overtake Cain.
But first, Nowhere and the Knights who would come to protect it, would fall.
Chapter 11
Ready to leave town, Max followed Sarah down the inn stairs, fresh bandages in place, compliments of his stop by the doc’s office. Max still felt like crap, but his natural healing abilities were aiding his efforts at hanging tough or at least faking it well. Though right about now, he wasn’t feeling the results of that ability. He’d lost a lot of blood. He needed rest to allow his body to do the job of healing.
After several hours of attention by the doctor, the sheriff was stable—at least for the time being—and Edward was sedated, with Cathy by his side, working on her demon-binding spell.
Sarah paused at the front desk, assuring the innkeeper that help was coming. Max stepped onto the porch, the clouds above black and ominous, though no more rain had fallen. He let his senses reach out, searching, expecting the scent of a Beast, but finding none. The presence of Hounds had to mean they were near. Were they? Max grimaced. He didn’t know anything for certain. This was a situation like none he’d ever faced before. Maybe the Hounds belonged to Vars. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Max dismissed it. He’d sensed Darkland Beasts back at that cabin. Which meant more were near, ready to devour this town and its people.
The faster Max got Sarah out of here, the better he’d feel. In a short window of time, a possessed Edward and a Hell Hound had come after her. Clearly, she’d been marked for death.
The inn door opened behind him and Sarah’s voice followed. “The doctor doesn’t want you to travel,” she said for the fifth time in ten minutes.
Max cast her a sideways glance as she stepped forward. “The doc has his hands full with the sheriff and Edward. He doesn’t need to deal with me, too.”
She turned to face him, her action showing the determination behind her words. “You’ve lost too much blood,” she said. “I’m worried.”
He turned to her then, surprised and warmed by the unfamiliar words of concern. No one worried about him except the Knights, and it wasn’t the same as Sarah doing so. He smiled through the dull throb in his gut. “If I don’t go, who’ll protect you?”
She gave him the evil eye and then lashed out at his male ego. “Oh, please. You’re in no shape to protect me. In fact, I’d have to protect you.”
Max couldn’t help himself, he laughed—it hurt like a bitch, but he laughed. Never before had he known a woman who had the guts this one did. She’d seen those Hounds, and yet, he believed she’d charge back into danger to save lives. “You have more balls than a lot of men I’ve known in my life, Sarah Meyers.”
She blinked at him, apparently not seeing the humor in any of this. In fact, her moment of taunting and teasing had disappeared completely. Her gaze dropped to his waist, where the bandages bulged beneath his shirt, lingering a moment before lifting to his face again.
With her brows knitting together, her voice quavering ever so slightly, she said, “Don’t you dare go and die on me.”
His gut tightened but not from pain this time—from the emotion in her voice, from her genuine fear for him. Max took her hand and pressed it to the bandages, determined to convince her that he was okay when that wasn’t anywhere near true. The small improvements his body could make without rest weren’t enough to overcome the extent of his wounds. He needed sleep and he needed it soon.
“I’m already healing, Sarah,” he assured her. “Can’t you tell I’m moving around more than before? I’m not like other people. I don’t die easily.”
She stared at him blankly before making a little huff of a noise. “There is a time and place for the macho—”
“No,” he said, interrupting her, covering the hand she had pressed to his stomach with his own. “It’s not like that. I’m different, Sarah. Different in ways I can’t explain right now. I promise I’ll be fine until we can get to a phone line.”
Her expression held a hint of well-contained shock. “Are you saying the government did something to you? Kind of like a super soldier of some sort?” Max had never claimed to work for the government and part of him wanted to clarify that, to make sure she didn’t think he’d misled her. But his instincts told him to hold back. Inviting more questions meant potential delays they couldn’t afford. The time for some honest conversation had come, though.
“I’m not saying anything at this point,” he said. “We need to have a heart-to-heart, honest talk, but let’s get out of this town first.”
“If we can get out of here,” she said.
“Oh, we’re getting out of here,” Max declared. “One way or the other, we’re leaving.” They climbed into the van, Sarah in the driver’s seat.
We’re getting out of here, one way or the other. Sarah replayed Max’s words in her head as she drove over the town bridge—the bridge where Kate had been killed. She glanced in Max’s direction, noting his battle-ready position. He held several guns, ready to fire from the window, intent on at least slowing any pursuers. She gripped the steering wheel with a white-knuckled hold, certain they were about to be attacked at any moment. But nothing happened. Nothing. Ten minutes passed and not a peep of trouble.
Max set his guns down, but kept them easily accessible as he started dialing his cell. “No signal yet,” he said.
“I can’t believe we just drove out of town,” Sarah said. “No trouble at all.”
“Seems a little too good to be true,” Max commented, punching the buttons on his phone again. “Which means it probably is.”
Sarah reached for a logical explanation. “Maybe reaching out to Allen from a distance is draining the demon’s powers.”
“Maybe,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced.
“You don’t buy that, do you?” she asked, casting him a quick look.
A frustrated sound slid from his lips as he hit the end button on his cell. “Damn it, we need a phone line.” He pressed his eyes shut a minute and then admitted, “In answer to your question, no, I don’t think the demon’s powers have weakened. I think letting us leave served an agenda we don’t understand yet.”
“There’s a sobering thought,” she said dryly. “Thanks for that.”
“Better to keep it real and stay on guard,” he retorted.
Kate brushed Sarah’s mind as a Motel 6 sign came into view and she did a quick turn into the entrance. “What are you doing?” Max asked, his wide-eyed gaze fixed on her, a stunned look on his face.
“The land lines are working here,” Sarah explained. “Kate says they’re working.” She pulled into a parking spot in fr
ont of the lobby.
Max gave her a blank look and then cautioned her. “You’re a lot more trusting of spirits than I am right about now.” He grabbed the door handle and pushed it open, noting only one lone car in the parking lot, no signs of human life anywhere.
Sarah met him at the front of the van, not willing to let his comment go by unanswered. “These spirits aren’t evil, Max. They want me to succeed because I’m helping them.”
“Just be careful,” he said. “We don’t know what this Vars is capable of doing. That’s all I’m saying.”
She inhaled, realizing he was right. They didn’t know what Vars could do. It was an unsettling thought. She’d always found the spirits she helped were in her comfort zone. Always assumed she could sense their true essence, just as she’d sensed the evil in that cabin. But what if she couldn’t?
“Call me paranoid,” Max said, changing the subject, “but I’m not about to part with my weapons, and I doubt they’ll be well-received inside. I’ll wait by the door where I can see you in case you run into trouble. If the phones work, let’s grab a room and we can wait for backup here. If not, let’s get in and out, and move onward.”
Right, Sarah thought, her adrenaline suddenly spiking. Phone. Room. Alone with Max. Why did she find the latter made her heart pound at triple time in her chest?
Ten minutes later, Max followed Sarah into the hotel room, locked the door and started for the phone but stopped as Sarah seemed to stumble. He caught her with his arm, holding her upright. “Wow. Are you okay?”
Sarah nodded and inhaled. “Kate’s trying to communicate, but it’s…it’s as if there is a battle raging in my head. Like the darkness from the cabin is beating at my mind, as well, trying to stop her.”
Max helped her to the bed, noting the way she swayed a bit, the way her skin seemed devoid of color. She’d been through a lot today, and neither of them had eaten or slept in—how many hours was it? He didn’t even know.
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