by Vanessa Jaye
“Should I be?”
“Why, that is entirely your choice, my darling.” Templeton laughed kindly. “Belief can kill or belief can cure.”
Oh, and that was supposed to be reassuring?
Nate’s hand pressed against her back, urging her towards the small wooden table under a large tree. Templeton saw them seated then headed inside to get refreshments. Mitch offered to help and excused himself to follow the older man indoors.
“Okay?” Nate asked.
The place did skeeve her out, yet as she stared into Nate’s eyes she realized that she was actually okay because he was with her. And that was an unsettling revelation.
Where had this confidence in him come from? Not to downplay the whole saving her life thing, but she was getting far too attached to him, far too used to and dependent on him. She shifted restlessly in the nylon folding chair.
“Things will never return to the way they were, Tessa.”
“Will you stay out of my head!”
His eyes narrowed and she felt him push against the boundaries of her mind. “No, I won’t, not any longer. I’ve given you time, Tessa. You can’t say I haven’t.”
Images flooded her, of what Nate wanted to do to her and what he wanted her to do to him. All of his pent-up frustrations from the last few days came at her like a tidal wave, drowning her in heated sensations.
A moan dredged up from her throat and her back arched off the chair as her breasts grew heavy with need. She was gasping for air, every nerve ending alive and thirsting for his touch. Tessa gripped the table edge, unable to break Nate’s erotic hold on her senses.
“Not any longer, Tessa,” he vowed hoarsely.
He touched her then, his hand lightly resting over hers on the table, his fingertips just a whispered stroke across her knuckles. It was exquisite, unbearable pleasure. She went wet and his nostrils flared as he breathed in and she knew, just knew he was savoring the scent of her arousal. A low rumble rose from his chest.
Then, just like that, he snapped it off. Cutting the flow of feelings and emotions. The images disappeared as if he’d pushed a button. But her body remembered. She sagged back against the chair, panting and trembling. She stared at him, wanting to be afraid.
But she wanted his kisses more.
Chapter Twelve
Nate got up abruptly. “I’ll see what’s keeping them.”
If he sat here with Tessa any longer, there was no telling what he’d do.
He stalked into the house and followed the murmur of voices down a dim corridor that led to Templeton’s workroom. Dried herbs hung from the rafters and a long table pushed up against one wall was covered with various jars, bottles, skulls of various sizes and species and several mortars.
“You two get lost?” Nate asked, his voice sharp with ill-temper.
Unruffled, Templeton looked up from measuring some white powder out into a vial. “Where’s the young lady?”
“Enjoying the view.”
Templeton stared at him for a long moment. “She isn’t who you think she is.”
“And how would you know?” he snapped.
Templeton’s smile only broadened. “Go back outside, son, and look again at my garden. I know about dreams. I know about your dreams.”
Nate felt as if he was standing at the edge of a great abyss. He had a choice: would he fall or would he fly?
“I know her,” he said as if that simple sentence explained everything. “If she’s not connected to Beth, then who is she? Why the bond?” Nate heard the ragged edge in his voice that he couldn’t control. He looked to Mitch as if he had the answer.
But it was Templeton, discerner of dreams, who answered. “You’ve known true love once before, it’s easily recognizable to you now that it’s found you again.”
His chest felt hollow, as if something profound had been carved out. Or maybe it wasn’t hollowness, but light from a burden lifted. Here was something too new to believe in. Yet in order to grasp this new hope he had to let go of all that had sustained him for the past five years. He didn’t know if he could do that.
“Remember, belief can kill.” Templeton tapped the leather pouch around Nate’s neck. “Or it can cure.” The old man’s haunting gaze drilled into him.
Nate broke eye contact. He couldn’t think about what Templeton was telling him right now. Later, when he was alone…
“Speaking of killing, you know the Pithcus fed on the ship,” Mitch steered the conversation back on topic.
The old man’s smile finally disappeared. “How long is the ship docked for?”
“Two days.”
Templeton became even grimmer. “I heard ’bout what happen on Bardos. You two think it might hunt here on St. Stephan’s?”
Nate and Mitch exchanged glances. “It could…” Nate looked Templeton in the eye, “but I think it’s picked its next quarry.”
“You?”
Nate shook his head.
“Ahhh.” Understanding dawned in those pale eyes. “Tessa.”
Nate clenched his jaw.
“Would it chance another attack on board with the risk of discovery being so high?” Templeton asked.
Mitch folded his arms. “Seems unlikely to me—”
“But not impossible.” Nate gave Mitch a hard look. “That’s not a chance I’m about to take.”
“And what are you going to do when the ship returns to the US of A? Still guard Tessa?”
“Yes.”
Mitch raised an eyebrow. “And what if you’re wrong…” he trailed off, letting all possible ways in which Nate could be wrong laden the air between them.
“What if you’re wrong and the Pithcus is free to roam and to hunt and to kill again and again. Is that a chance you’re willing to take?”
Yes! The affirmative tore through Nate, shattering all obstacles to the truth that had lain in his subconscious for several days.
Mitch’s expression darkened and he made a disgusted sound.
“You would let innocents die, have the Pithcus continue to feed on humans and our own kind for some chick you hardly know, who can barely stand to be around your sorry emo ass?”
Yes.
Mitch’s reprimand and the dull shame that it brought wasn’t enough to suppress Nate’s selfish desires.
But the truth—that Tessa didn’t love him and wanted no part of him or the nightmare he’d dragged her into—that was enough.
“I’ll stop the Pithcus. I promised Beth and the Elders. I’ll see that Tessa is safe first then we’ll move on.”
Uttering those words wrenched his heart, but Nate steeled himself from the hurt and walled off the path in his brain that led to what could have been.
“You have something for us?” He looked around the workroom, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.
Templeton chuckled. “Time to change the subject? All right then. Remember I was telling you boys outside about my success with the Matriarch’s Kiss? I did some additional experimenting with cross-pollination. Look at this.” He turned back to the worktable and nudged several blood-colored seedpods across the wooden surface.
Nate held his hand out. “This is from the new strain?”
“Grafted onto a Cartemine vine.” Templeton dropped several seeds into Nate’s palm.
“Son of a bitch!” He jerked his hand back. Stinging pain scrabbled up his arm from his fingertips up his shoulder. “Cartemine root?”
“No, not the root. The seeds form on the stems. Give here.” Templeton grasped Nate’s wrist in a firm hold. “Now isn’t that interesting.” They all stared at the rapidly blistering skin of Nate’s hand. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. Never mind, I have something to fix it.”
Templeton went across the room. He shuffled several jars back and forth across the table surface, searching.
“Is this?” he said aloud, lifting one bottle to examine the contents. “No, not this. I wonder if I’ve run out?” He muttered some more under his breath, before raising his voice again. �
�Mitchell, take off your Shoni-blades, the poison needs time to penetrate the metal. Now where did I put that jar of duppy seed and mongoose fat?”
Nate paid scant attention to Templeton’s rambling. His heart thudded wildly in his chest as roiling anger clamped sharp claws into him. He focused on controlling the beast, curling his other hand in a fist.
“Very interesting indeed,” Mitch said quietly, picking up a seed and rubbing it between his thumb and fingers.
Nate subsumed the bubbling rage inside him and tamped down on his pain. When he’d emptied himself of all thought and feeling, he met Mitch’s hard catlike gaze.
“Looks like we found ourselves a winner.” He fought to slow his breathing. “If these seeds affect me like this, imagine what a larger dose will do to the Pithcus.”
“Oh, I am imagining.” Mitch dropped the seed and studied his unmarked palm. “I’m very creative that way.”
It had taken a few minutes, but she’d finally figured out what the scribbled words were. Crudely painted in white and black on the multi-colored walls—it was all scripture, from various sources and religions, if her guess was right. If there was such a thing as benevolent menace, this place held it. Tessa sat quietly on a wooden bench underneath shelter at the back of Templeton’s yard. The tree stump with the hatchet buried into its blood-splattered surface was just a few feet away.
This place must be used as a place of worship. Or sacrifice. Tessa wondered if she should pray, or what she could offer up to deliver her from Nate’s influence. Her body still vibrated with his recent invasion of her mind. And those were just his thoughts, random images. How would she deal with the reality?
Would. Not could. At this point it seemed inevitable. She’d never been the focus of such single-minded attention before. And his hunger for her only fed her own for him.
Tessa fought the sense of helplessness that swept over her. Closing her eyes, she bowed her head and covered the lower half of her face with trembling hands.
“Does God hear your prayers?”
She jumped up, heart in her throat, and turned to find Mitch behind her. Like Nate, he moved so silently she hadn’t heard his approach.
“Does he hear yours?” she shot back.
“All the time.” Mitch gazed around the shelter. “Should be on these walls somewhere: He helps those who help themselves.”
“Where’s Nate.” She glanced over Mitch’s shoulder. He didn’t like her, so why was he seeking her out?
“He’s had a little accident, Templeton is looking after it.”
Her unease was immediately replaced with alarm. “What kind of accident?”
“Minor…at the moment.” He held up his hand to stop her next question. “Look, we don’t have a lot of time here. I have to speak to you, warn you. Stay away from Nate.”
“You need a new playlist, Mitch. I heard this one already.”
“Then listen up and pay attention to the chorus. Stay. Away. From. Nate. It’s for your own safety.”
The rasping sound of her breath rang in her ears as she got what he was trying to tell her. “You think Nate wants to hurt me?”
“Is not a matter of ‘wants to’ or not. He might not have a choice.”
She teetered on indecision before rejecting the very idea. “Nate wouldn’t hurt me. He’s protecting me.”
“From what? The Pithcus? It won’t risk another attack onboard again.”
“But Nate said—”
“Nate says a lot of things. Things he wants to believe. Things he wants others to believe.” Mitch’s expression was drawn sharp. He opened his mouth, closed it and opened it again.
“What is it? You obviously had something else to say, spit it out.” She almost wanted to take the words back. She didn’t want to hear any more of his theories.
“You know what Nate’s mate meant to him. He’s gone to great lengths to seek his revenge against the Pithcus. He would sacrifice anything. And anyone, if it got him what he wanted.
“Anyone.”
Oh God. She suddenly felt sick.
“Oye!” Templeton yelled from across the yard. “You people come here for the mango juice.”
Nate stood a little ways off from Templeton. His expression was cold. The very air around him seemed to shimmer with menace.
Mitch indicated she should precede him back to the other two men. “Take my warning to heart, Tessa,” he whispered.
She didn’t answer but went reluctantly back to Nate, even though every instinct told her to run in the opposite direction from all of them.
The next half hour was torturous. Every now and again she sensed the feelers Nate sent out, but he didn’t push through the mental boundaries she flung up between them, as he had earlier.
Finally, it was time to leave. Templeton clasped her hand in both of his. There was surprising strength in those gnarled hands.
“Ever so nice to meet you, my darlin’. We’ll see each other again.”
Not if she saw him first. Tessa forced a smile and gently extricated herself from his grip.
He raised his eyebrows but his soft smile never wavered. “Only remember what I tell you, hold on to your beliefs.”
Whatever. She’d like to tell him where to stuff his little homilies.
The men exchanged goodbyes, then she, Nate and Mitch were on their way back to the bone-yard footpath. When they got to the gates, a decidedly nervous looking Silas was already there. They piled into the car and before the doors were properly shut he was tearing down the road in a spray of gravel.
Surprisingly, Nate didn’t try to interrogate her about what she and Mitch had been discussing. Instead he spent the entire trip back down the hill staring broodingly out the window. Tessa locked her hands in her lap. She didn’t doubt for a second that he’d corner her at the first chance they were alone, and part of her was spoiling for that moment. The other part of her felt like a bird trapped in a net. Only the patter between Silas and Mitch kept a lid on her panic, their loud outrageous boastings and robust laughter blanketing the tension in the rear of the cab.
Once they reached the town proper, Silas took a slightly different route to the harbor and they came upon a bustling market. The sound of multiple languages mingled with the lively calypso music blaring from various sources.
Silas pulled up to the curb. “Here you are, boss, Pirates Market.”
“Thanks for taking care of us,” Mitch said as he opened his door.
Silas made a dismissive sound. “I’se never forget the debt I owe the two of you. Never.”
“Not to worry.” Nate reached out and grasped Silas’s shoulder.
With tears in his eyes, the other man covered Nate’s hand and gave him a sharp nod, acknowledging something that passed between them. Then he turned to Tessa.
“I wish you had more time to spend on our island, miss. I would show you the sights. Maybe next time, eh?”
“Maybe.” She made no move to get out of the car.
Silas looked questioningly at Nate and Mitch then back to Tessa.
“If you could just take me back to the ship, I’d really appreciate it.”
“I thought you wanted to look around the market,” Nate said.
“You thought wrong.”
“Well, Silas has other things to do, so come on.” He jerked his head towards the open door.
“But the ship is just over there, I can see it from here. How long is it going to take him to drive down the street?”
“You’ll never know, because he’s not going there.” Nate leaned forward, eyes narrowed and flashing silver in the dim interior of the cab. His voice deepened to a rough bass that broke out gooseflesh on her nape. “Now are you going to get out of the car, or do I drag you out?”
Chapter Thirteen
They were in the middle of a bustling tourist area, in broad daylight.
He wouldn’t dare.
He inched closer, the leather seat creaking under his weight, his hot breath brushing her lips in a phantom kis
s. “Don’t push me, Tessa.”
She got out. And headed back to the ship, walking pass the line of parked taxis in front of Silas. Another car door slammed.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Tessa spun around, then took a quick step back when she found he was only inches away. “What’s wrong with me? Well, isn’t it obvious, Nate? I’m not your precious Beth. I’m nothing to you but a poor substitute for the woman you love.” She ran out of voice, humiliation wringing it dry a moment too late.
She hadn’t meant to reveal so much, yet her disappointment was too sharp. For the last few days she’d kidded herself into thinking she was a priority with Nate. But she wasn’t, she was just—
“That’s not true!” He was vehemently denying it before she’d finished the thought.
Nate turned on Mitch. In a few strides he had him by the shirtfront. “You told her she was bait?”
Mitch grabbed his wrist. “Isn’t she? You tell me she’s not a means to an end. Tell me you’d give up your quest, right here, right now, for her. That you would give up your vow to Beth.”
He leaned in till he was almost nose-to-nose with Nate. “Better yet, tell her.”
“You backstabbing bastard.” Nate twisted Mitch’s shirt in his fists before he gave him a hard shove.
Mitch stumbled back a step. “What you waiting for, holmes? Tell her. Tell. Her!”
“Boys, boys. Time to kiss and make up. You’re attracting a lot of attention.” Angelica sauntered out from between stalls, laden with several shopping bags. She raised her brows at Tessa. “What’s got into them?”
“Who cares?” She despised the way her voice came out all hoarse.
“Hey, you all right?” Angelica asked hesitantly.
“No. I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.”
“Wait!”
“Tessa!” Nate called out.
She ignored them both and sped up, weaving blindly through the crowds, not sure she was even headed in the right direction towards the ship.
Nate started after her, but Mitch held him back. “Let her go.”
“Get your fucking hands off me.”