“Actually, they talk to me,” Sarah said. “I can’t really talk back, though I try. I was twelve when it started. The same age as my mother and her mother before her. I have an older brother, but he’s normal and, believe me, he likes it that way.”
“Interesting that only the females carry the gift,” Karen said. “Des’s mate, Jessica, can sense evil. A person you and I might think seems perfectly nice will put her nerves on edge. She’s remarkably accurate, too.”
“Really?” Sarah said. “She’d be great to have around on an investigation.”
“You won’t get her without Des right by her side,” Karen commented and eyed Jag. “Like Jag, he’s quite protective.”
Max watched Sarah closely as Karen talked, understanding how Des felt. He wanted to protect Sarah. Exactly the reason he had to push her away. Part of him said claiming her would contain his dark side, and that passing the test would then be ensured. But the other part of him, the part that logic ruled, knew he couldn’t take a risk with Sarah’s future.
“You’ve heard nothing from Kate since Marisol helped you sleep?” Jag asked, his long legs stretched in front of him as he reached for a bag and pulled out a second burger.
Sarah shook her head. “Nothing yet.”
“What does that mean?” Karen questioned, her expression concerned. “Is something wrong with her? Did the demon spirits get to her?”
“I don’t think it’s anything like that,” Sarah assured her. “Spirits only communicate when they have something important to say. My guess is the information she had before was time-sensitive. It’s too late for it to matter now.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Karen mused. “It must have been important. Why else would demon spirits try to stop the communication?”
“You think Allen has the stones already?” Jag asked.
“I don’t know,” Sarah said, leaning forward to set her drink on the nightstand. “But Cathy mentioned that the ritual Vars would need to perform should be held on a full moon. That gives us only a little more than a week to track down Allen. Between Cathy’s mother and Kate, I’m praying we get some leads.” Her lips thinned slightly. “Kate was trying to tell me something about a location last night. I remember that much, but nothing more. And even if I remember the location, I don’t remember the relevance it has.”
“If it were still important, Kate would tell you again though, right?” Max asked.
“That’s usually how it works,” she confirmed. “The spirits are quite forceful and determined when they want me to understand a particular detail. Then again, I have this nagging feeling whatever she told me last night was important, and she can’t, or won’t, contact me again right now. She might be afraid these demon spirits will hurt me again.”
“The full moon will be here before we know it,” Jag pointed out. “We have nothing to go on and only a short time to find answers.” He discarded half a burger into a bag, and pushed to his feet. “We should get going.”
“I hope Cathy is right about the full moon,” Karen said. “It seems that Vars has left us more time to counter his threat than I would have expected.”
“It’s not a long time when we have no clues,” Max reminded her. “And Vars didn’t intend for anyone to catch on to his plan.”
“I’ll call Cathy’s mom,” Sarah offered. “We can talk to her about the timelines to confirm Cathy’s thoughts. I’ll try to get her to talk on the phone, though. I think it’s about a three-hour drive to Dallas from here.”
Karen reached out and touched Sarah’s hand. “Jag has a few special talents himself. When you make that call tell her you’ll be right over. As in right over. No travel time. No drive.”
Sarah blinked. “What? How?”
A smile touched Karen’s lips. “Jag has this nifty little ability to transport through space in a blink of an eye. Unfortunately, he can transport only two at once. I’ll get back to the ranch and help research the Shadow Masters while Jag takes you two to see Cathy’s mother. I believe Des and a team of Knights should already be in Nowhere by now, so you can feel confident your friends will be well looked after. Des is one of our best Knights.”
Sarah’s eyes were wide as she glanced at Max. “Can you do that?”
“Ah, no,” he said. “If I could, I’d have gotten us the hell out of Nowhere a long time before I did.”
“You know,” she commented, “it’s kind of nice not to be the only one who’s different. Around you all, I feel almost normal.” Max’s eyes held hers, and beside him, he could feel Jag’s approval. Jag had done this on purpose, trying to motivate Max to conquer this test by letting him see what life could be like when the test was behind him. But what Jag didn’t understand was that Max had to look out for Sarah—in best case and worst case scenarios. He had to be sure he was on the other side of this test before he pulled her close and kept her there.
Karen and Jag departed, leaving a file behind with all the research Karen and Jessica had done so far on Vars and various other topics that they thought might be helpful. Max rested against the door, keeping his distance from Sarah as she spoke on the phone with Cathy’s mother, Sheryl.
“Okay,” Sarah said after ending the call. “We’re set. She expects us and she’s willing to help. Of course, she’s worried about Cathy. If we don’t convince Sheryl that her daughter is safe, she’ll take off after her.” Her gaze probed his features. “You look tired. You didn’t sleep at all, did you?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to be alert in case I needed to call Marisol back for you.”
“Thank you, Max,” she said softly. “I hate that you did that, though. I can see you’re tired. You need rest.”
She stood and he prayed she’d keep her distance. Especially since her concern touched him, weakening his resolve to push her away. No one worried about him. No one. Not even in his human life. It had always been his brother, the heir to his father’s title, that his parents had worried for.
“I’ll rest when this is over,” he said, his voice low, a bit gruff from emotion. She took another step—she was too close. He held up a staying hand. “Stop. Sarah.” He inhaled her soft feminine scent. It wasn’t perfume that teased his senses, it was the sweetness of Sarah, his mate, his woman. “I told you I can’t be near you.”
“And I told you I’m not afraid of you.”
She took another step and he acted out of desperation to keep his resolve, acted before he talked himself out of it. He gently shackled her arms with enough force to startle her, maneuvering her so that he placed her back against the wall.
Max pinned Sarah’s hands over her head, his thighs framing hers, trapping her legs, his hips pressed snugly against hers. Instantly, his groin tightened, desire licking at his limbs, at his cock—his willpower fading away. But he had to be strong, to let her see his dark side, and not allow himself to cave to temptation.
His mouth lingered above her ear, his primal side alive, hungry for her. “Fear me or you’re a fool,” he rasped softly.
“You can’t hurt me,” she countered, her voice quivering ever so slightly. “You said so. Karen said so, too.”
He leaned back and looked her in the eyes. “I lied. Think about it, Sarah. What if there isn’t enough human left in me to properly mate? What if I bite you and the beast takes too much blood and kills you?”
Seconds ticked by. She narrowed her gaze on him, her eyes full of confusion, her scrutiny intense. Her voice low, taut. “This isn’t working, Max. I told you I can sense your emotions, just like I do the spirits that communicate with me. You’re lying and you hate yourself for it. Why? Why are you doing this?”
“You might know the human, little Sarah,” he purred, nipping her lobe with his teeth, “but you don’t know the beast.”
Her chin lifted in defiance, but her voice quavered. “You’re not a Beast.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, leaning back to let her see the challenge in his expression. “I don’t know what Karen told you but look into
my eyes, Sarah. See the yellow? Did you know many of the Beasts have yellow in their red eyes? I’m so close to my dark side, even my physical appearance is changing.”
She shook her head, rejecting his words. “Lots of people—human people—have yellow in their eyes, Max.”
“But those humans aren’t four hundred years old with a soul as black as hell. You want to know why I’m being tested?” He felt a muscle jump in his jaw, his admission hard to muster. “I killed a human, Sarah.” He gave her no time to respond. “I killed a man and I don’t even remember doing it. The beast had total, complete control. I. Don’t. Remember.”
He dropped her arms, forcing himself to take a step back from her, hating the tears he saw welling in her eyes. “So now you know. I’m no different than the demon that took your parents and your friend. I killed, too.”
She hugged herself, her body shaking, though she gave him a steady look, her eyes pinning his in a probing stare. “Why did you kill this person?”
“Who and why doesn’t matter.”
Her voice raised in demand. “Why, Max?”
A knock sounded on the door. “Jag’s back. We need to go.”
Awareness rushed over Max—Beasts. They never attacked in a public place without killing all witnesses. The hotel was in the middle of open country, which left them exposed to a Darkland attack.
“Who, Max?” Sarah persisted, unaware of Max’s shift of attention to the imminent threat. She turned to the door as she said, “I’ll ask Jag.”
Sarah flipped the lock and Max grabbed her, tossing her behind him, and not as gently as he would have liked. He simply wanted her alive and well, out of harm’s way.
He flung open the door, blades already drawn, finding Jag in heavy combat with the Beasts. Max didn’t hesitate. This is what he did—what he was born to do. He attacked.
Chapter 16
Sarah found herself stumbling and falling to the hotel floor, stunned to have been shoved away by Max. Even more stunned to see him pull his blades and charge out the door. Something told her she was about to meet a Beast up close and personal, and after those Hounds, she didn’t want to do it unarmed.
Pushing to her feet, she scrambled toward the closet where she’d seen Max’s bag. He’d have weapons, she was sure of it. She had taken only a few steps when a snarl drew her attention. She turned, her eyes going wide at the creature standing in the doorway—with half its face distorted, and one eye bigger than the other. She noted the yellowish red eyes, and her stomach clenched as she recalled Max’s yellow-flecked eyes. She barely had time to take in the vinyl-looking suit the Beast wore, the long fangs, and wild mass of hair, before the Beast stumbled forward, Max on its back.
“Lock yourself in the bathroom,” Max yelled, as he landed on the ground, on top of the Beast.
Sarah darted to the closet, instead, to search for a gun. Adrenaline pumped through her body with such force she could feel her stomach in her chest. She couldn’t imagine how Max could take the Beast’s head in this tiny room. He’d never have the room to swing wide enough. A gun would at least slow the Beast down long enough to drag it out of here. She hoped.
With desperation in her actions, she grabbed the bag in the closet and dug, relief washing over her as she found a loaded Glock. Her relief faded as she turned to find Max’s back to her. She couldn’t fire at the Beast without hitting Max. Sarah held the gun in ready position, searching for an opportunity; there just wasn’t one.
“Jag!” she screamed, and repeated his name several times, praying for help. A good move because suddenly Jag was there. He came up behind the Beast and wrapped his arms around him. A second later he orbed out of the room, taking the Beast with him.
Max whirled around, eyes wild with concern as he focused on Sarah. “Tell me you’re okay.”
“I am!” She pointed. “Go help Jag!”
Max was on the move before she ever finished her sentence. She ran after him, clutching the gun—a tiny comfort she embraced wholeheartedly. But, thankfully, she didn’t need it. When she joined them, Max and Jag had already destroyed the enemies, the last one going up in flames as she watched, before turning to ash. Her eyes went wide as she realized their fancy vinyl-looking suits turned to ash, too. She didn’t ask how. She knew how. Magic.
Jag scanned the surrounding area as he and Max quickly sheathed their weapons. “I don’t see any witnesses, but I’m going to check closer to be certain. We may need Marisol to wipe some memories.”
Max inhaled and scrubbed his jaw. His voice was low, tense. “I know it’s crazy, but I had the distinct feeling William was here.”
Jag considered Max for a moment. Sarah didn’t know who William was, but she could tell he was important to Max.
“Never ignore your senses,” Jag responded, offering no further insight to clear up William’s identity for Sarah.
Jag continued, “They came for your woman.”
The sound of Jag calling her Max’s woman sent a dart of heat through her limbs, despite her confused emotions about Max right now. She’d seen the Beasts, seen their eyes. She’d endured Max’s assurance that he, too, was a Beast. It was hard not to feel a bit of apprehension, even fear.
She inhaled and forced herself to focus on the reason for the attack, not the personal side of this situation. She could see why the Beasts would want her dead. “They don’t want Kate to talk to me,” she whispered, the gun easing to her side.
Jag’s eyes narrowed on Sarah, his stare potent, packing a punch. “Know this, Sarah,” he said softly. “You are far more than a link to information. Max has resisted the call of his beast when others have not. His soul is a prize to our enemy. Destroying you would take away his hope of ever escaping the darkness—it would destroy him.” His gaze shifted back to Max. “Which is why you had to save Jessica that day, Max. Had you let her die, Des would be gone now. We both know he lived too close to his beast.” A second passed, then another, tension crackling in the air. “Don’t forget what you did for your fellow Knight, your brother-in-arms. I won’t, nor will Des. And I assure you, Salvador won’t, either.”
Jag walked away then, leaving Sarah and Max to face each other. Their eyes locked. Sarah felt the contact from head to toe and deeper—in her soul. He didn’t speak, and she knew he was waiting for some sort of reaction from her. She couldn’t find words no matter how hard she tried. There was so much to take in and try to understand. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing.
Moments ticked by, and Max made a frustrated sound. “Pack up,” he said. “I want the van loaded so we’re mobile if needed.” She felt the bitterness lacing his words and stepped backward with the impact. He’d wanted something from her, though she wasn’t sure what. Something she hadn’t given. He was confusing her. One minute, he made love to her, the next he pushed her away. Now, he seemed to want her to come to him.
Breaking eye contact, she turned away to do as he said, heading to the room to be alone with her internal struggles. She had to think. It was as simple as that. Images of those Beasts taunted her. The idea of one of them controlling Max made her almost sick. She could see that he was close to the edge; she’d even sensed it while he was fighting. There had been a primal ferocity to him while he fought, whereas Jag had seemed to be more warrior than Beast. Deep in her heart, Sarah knew that if she didn’t complete this mating soon, it would be too late for Max. He wouldn’t last much longer.
God, how she wanted to talk to Karen again, to understand more about mating. She needed more time to get to know Max, too, to understand him and his world. Sarah looked skyward. Give me a little time. Please. And then let me make the right choices. Sarah let her hands fall to her lap and ran her palms down her jeans. If she caused anyone else to get hurt, she’d be the one who deserved to be in the ground. She’d certainly be living in her own personal form of hell.
With Jag in between her and Max, his hand on each of their arms, the three of them appeared at their destination—Cathy’s mother’s home, on the
front porch.
As Jag had promised Sarah, their travel experience was uneventful, and she found herself staring at the door of Sheryl’s home. Despite the ease of the experience, her nerves were still rattled from the events back at the hotel. And despite Max being a big part of what caused those nerves, her first reaction was to look at Max, to share this new experience with him. She received a guarded look in return, an expression that was shielded, but no doubt cold. She’d pushed him away; now he pushed her away. They seemed to be having a tug-of-war, and she didn’t like it. Unbidden, a feeling of loss washed over her—fear that she’d lost him when she’d not even found him fully yet. This didn’t work for her. She had to clear the air and soon.
Doing her best to shake off the way his coldness bothered her, Sarah quickly eyed her surroundings, concerned that the neighbors might have seen them “pop” into view. But no worries—she found the porch enclosed and hidden from easy viewing.
“Has anyone ever caught you doing this?” she asked Jag. “You know—one minute you aren’t here and the next you are?”
Amusement danced in Jag’s eyes. “No, and I don’t plan to be caught. I choose my landing spots with care.”
“I’d ask how you do that, but I’m sure the answer would be as unbelievable as the gift.” She stepped to the door, making a mental note to ask him the question another time when they weren’t in peril.
Sarah started to knock when the door flew open to reveal an older version of Cathy with much longer dark hair, but the same big brown eyes and adorable features. Sheryl Wilburt wore a long, cream-colored, fitted dress that flattered her slim figure, showing off her curves without being too snug.
“Sarah!” Sheryl said, pulling her into a hug. Sarah had met Sheryl once before and often took her calls at the office, so they had a comfort level together. “Tell me what’s going on. I’ve been worried sick.” She leaned back to look at Sarah, her voice cracking a bit. “Tell me Cathy is okay. I need to hear it again. And Edward? Is he any better?”
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