If they’d questioned her powers before, they wouldn’t anymore.
She struggled to her feet. Dizziness swept over her, but she straightened her spine and pulled in a fortifying breath. “Kill me or die.”
Gathering his wits after Sarah’s surprising escape, Tanner debated standing to face off with her. She’d suffered through the Goddess only knew what at the hands of a cruel, sadistic man. Putting himself on equal footing wouldn’t calm her rage or increase the odds of taking her alive. Given the ease with which she’d destroyed her bonds, he and John would likely have to kill her or be killed in a recapture.
But is she truly evil? Or is she protecting herself?
John rubbed his right hand, the leather straps having burned bright red stripes across his palm when she’d pitched herself sideways. “Why didn’t you kill us when you had the chance, Sarah? You could’ve, you know.”
Throwing a frown at his partner, Tanner snorted. “Great strategy, John. Antagonize an angry woman.”
“She doesn’t want to hurt us. Otherwise, I’m pretty damn sure we’d be dead already. Isn’t that right, Sarah?”
The black began to fade from her eyes, but she turned her back to them before the natural gray-green color returned. She’d helped form the third side to complete the triangle of the shifters’ power. With the destruction of Kazmer, could the Black Triad have lost more than an essential leader? Were the remaining elders weakened even more than anyone had thought? Or had Sarah finally realized the cost of her choice?
She also hadn’t taken advantage of the opportunity to flee. Her ability to break what Tanner had thought were unbreakable restraints left him confused. If she’d meant the “or die” part of her challenge, he and John would be lifeless bodies on the ground by now. She should’ve dropped them with a single magickal blow and been on her way.
He laughed with a sudden realization. “You do have a heart. And your soul is no longer black.”
John pushed to his feet but didn’t move closer to her. “Naga’s going to be pissed.”
Spinning back around, Sarah perched her fists on her hips, emphasizing her feminine shape. Her irises were once again pitch black, her voice confident and clear. “The soul of an elder of the Black Triad cannot be redeemed.”
Her stance and attitude should’ve convinced Tanner, even if her words didn’t. He didn’t believe her, though—not when she hadn’t gone for the kill and escape. “Then you were never a true elder. Show us the source of your strength.”
She reached for the row of buttons on her blouse, her fingers working each one free of its hole without hesitation. The flaps separated, baring a narrow strip of pale skin between her breasts and down the length of her abdomen. Only a band of white lace below her full tits interrupted the view.
Flinging the shirt off her shoulders, she stripped down to her bra and formfitting skirt. She pivoted to reveal the intricate tattoo on her lower back, but not before Tanner got a peek at her dark nipples poking at the see-through lace. Her waist tapered in from the flare of hips, accentuating a perfectly rounded ass. A flash of desire zinged from his balls to his gut.
John strode up behind her, dropping to his knees and putting his face at eye level to the ink markings. Tanner joined him, remaining on his feet to study the design from above. They’d spent years learning every detail of the pattern that defined the power of a Black Triad elder. If she’d been endowed with title of “elder,” they’d know it in a matter of minutes.
Pointing to a curving black line that started at her spine, John traced outward, his finger nearly skimming along her back. One swirl led to the upper left corner of the inverted triangle, ending in hollow circle. The opposite side mirrored the first. A bold outline encased the three angles in red.
Every additional thread that matched the true imprint made Tanner’s stomach twist a little tighter. He glanced away, unable to watch as John began his study of the central runes. She wasn’t pure evil. She couldn’t be.
A faint line of puckered pink skin on her shoulder blade drew Tanner’s attention. Another lay parallel above and below. More stood out against the slightly pinker skin near her neck. Several crisscrossed the area directly over the tattoo, and his jaw tensed. Someone had whipped or beaten her—on numerous occasions.
Returning his gaze to the symbols, he blinked away the haze of uncontrolled wrath. The damage had happened long ago, and based on Sarah’s claims of violence, she’d already exacted vengeance upon the man who’d hurt her. With any luck, the bastard had suffered before he met his end.
“Holy shit. Look at this, Tanner.” John picked up a leaf and ripped off the stem, using it to point out his discovery. “Right here.”
Kneeling next to him, Tanner let the filtered sunlight enhance the contrast between skin and ink. Red dye filled the center of a circle with wavy lines radiating out from it.
Sarah flinched when John gestured to the next picture, and Tanner almost didn’t notice the absent black dots—three of them.
The Black Triad is missing.
Something else occurred to him a second later. The lack of the dots signified an implication far more important than the fact that she didn’t have the mark of an elder.
John pressed his forefinger to his lips. He’d obviously realized the same thing and thought it best to keep the knowledge from her. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. Or her.
Snagging Sarah’s blouse from the ground, Tanner stood, his temper still simmering over the scars. He held it just out of her reach. “Good news. You’re not an elder.”
Her eyes widened, revealing the unusual mix of colors instead of the disconcerting wall of darkness, and her tone confirmed her disbelief. “Then how have I been able to perform the spells of the Triad?”
“The tattoo contains some symbols that amplify the abilities you already have.” She grabbed for the shirt, but he whisked it through her fingertips. Curiosity got the better of him. The scars signified something important. “Who—”
“A man.” She lunged for him, snatching the blouse from his grip. Stuffing her arms in the sleeves, she marched back to the spot where they’d landed.
How had she known what he’d started to ask? Had his thoughts seeped into her subconscious through the link that would eventually form? “No man would ever do that to a woman. Whoever left those scars on you is a coward.”
She worked the buttons as she slid her feet into her shoes. “Was. He’s dead. I killed him.”
If Tanner had to guess, the guy had also been tortured, cursed, and left for dead—everything he deserved.
“Scars?” John’s sudden anger matched Tanner’s mood. “What did he do to you, Sarah?”
Lifting her chin, she stared at them. The moment she regained her composure, the emotionless façade slipped into place, and she answered the question as if the beating had happened to someone else, a stranger. “I received five lashings a day until I conceived a child. My husband was sterile.”
John huffed out a noisy exhale, his revulsion apparent. “But you’ve been pregnant. I saw stretch marks on your stomach, and we know the history of your condemnation for being a witch.”
“I was raped. I never told my husband. He believed the child I carried was his.” Her voice held no inflection, her face devoid of the pain and suffering she had to have experienced. “The lashings stopped.”
Closing his eyes, Tanner massaged the tense muscles in his forehead. Her husband had probably raped her too. If anyone was justified in cultivating centuries of hatred and revenge, Sarah Pennymead was. That she hadn’t cast a spell of death upon him and John in New Orleans or Chicago spoke volumes for her inherent goodness. She hadn’t committed indiscriminant acts of violence in her time with the Black Triad. Only those who treated others in some heinous manner had been subjected to her wrath.
The need to comfort her nearly smothered him. Would she accept his empathy? He doubted it, but he wouldn’t know unless he tried.
She seemed to ignore his approac
h until he stood less than an arm’s length from her. Although she appeared relaxed, the sharp scent of her wariness hung in the air.
Offering his hand, he waited for her to complete the handshake. “I’m Tanner Vale, and my partner is John Grey. I’m sorry for all you had to go through. When we return to the Xanthus compound, John and I will testify on your behalf before the council.”
Her gaze skipped from him to John and back again. “I can’t go with you. I must complete my task.”
His chest squeezed. “You don’t owe anything to Naga. Let him try to find his own damn Triad replacements. You aren’t one of them.”
John joined them to stand on her other side. “You have no idea how much danger you’re in, Sarah. Naga knows you don’t have the power of an elder, and once he finds out you know, you can damn well bet he isn’t going to let you go without a fight.”
Retreating several feet from them, she clasped her hands in front of her, looking nervous yet determined. “You don’t understand. I have to finish what I started, and it has to be now.”
Understanding dawned, and Tanner exchanged a silent conversation with his partner as they often did in urgent situations. A quick nod confirmed their agreement.
“Then we’re going with you.”
Chapter 5
Panic washed over her, but Patience stood her ground. She hadn’t expected compassion from the bounty hunters sent to drag her to her demise. Nor had she been prepared for the rush of sexual awareness.
She recognized the sharp scent of desire and conflicting emotions associated with passion—from them and her. Between her years running the brothel and the influence she’d had on the Macska witch matings, the smell of lust was all too familiar. While the horrible memories of abuse still haunted the deepest recesses of her mind, three hundred years and distance had healed the worst of her wounds. Still, in all that time, participating in sex hadn’t entered her thoughts.
Why now? And why would they want to go with me?
John bent to gather the pieces of the shattered cuffs. The shards melded together in his palm, forming a sphere of pliable metal. “At least we know how you broke free of the bonds. Nobody’s done that before.”
Picking up the shredded leather strap, Tanner shook his head. “You aren’t safe going by yourself, Sarah. You may not like it, but you need us. And don’t think for one second we don’t know exactly what you’re planning.”
They’d assured her she wasn’t an elder, but they hid something about the markings from her. They hadn’t told her all they’d discovered. “How are you going to stop me from going alone? We already know I can escape if you try to catch me again.”
The men shared a frown, a nearly invisible electrical current buzzing from one to the other.
She crossed her arms under her breasts when she couldn’t understand the exchange. “And don’t do that. If you have something to say, then say it aloud.”
They had the decency to look properly chastised, and John took a step closer. “We thought you were searching for someone to complete the Triad again, but you aren’t. Not in the way we’d first suspected anyway. You need us to protect you while you carry out your plan to destroy Naga.”
Her muscles tensed. How had they realized the veiled purpose of her plot? She’d kept her secret motive hidden for two years without anyone being the wiser. “Why should I allow you to escort me? Your reaction to the mark of the elder tells me the symbols mean more than what you said. What did you read?”
Tanner glanced toward the ground before meeting her gaze. “We can’t tell you yet. It isn’t time for you to know.”
“Who are you to decide?” She tried to feed her anger, but for some reason disappointment won. They didn’t really care about keeping her safe, or whether or not she succeeded.
“You have to trust us on this.”
Moving to stand beside his partner, Tanner nodded. “You have to trust us. Period.”
Trust?
She hadn’t trusted anyone since she was a child. Did she even remember how?
Both men dropped to one knee in the rays of the setting sun, bowing their heads. They spoke as one. “I swear my loyalty and my life to you. You shall not perish before I take my last breath, and the Goddess will strike me down if my promise is broken. True at the beginning. True to the end.”
Their oath of fealty sent shivers across her skin, and a lump crowded her throat. Emotion skittered through her veins, the mix of unfamiliar feelings sparking more fear than Naga’s power ever had.
John and Tanner remained statues at her feet. Were they waiting for her to accept their pledge?
A long minute became two, then three. Still, they didn’t rise.
Comprehension came. Anguish followed. She had to make a choice—the most difficult of her three-hundred-forty-nine-year life. If she denied them, she’d have to abandon her plan for the unforeseeable future.
I’d rather die.
But do I have the courage to choose the alternative?
Her pulse echoed in her head as she stared down at the broad shoulders of the men who’d promised to die protecting her. Anxiety warred with common sense. What reason did they have to lie? Could she take a leap of faith?
She opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t make a sound. Tanner and John knelt in front of her with no weapons, knowing she’d taken a life. Yet, they showed no fear.
Trust. They trust me.
That sudden insight lifted the weight from her chest and eased the tightness in her throat. She might not trust them without question, but they believed she wouldn’t betray them to Naga. “I…will try to trust you.”
Relief flooded every tense muscle in his body, but John resisted the urge to collapse on the ground with an exhausted sigh. He and Tanner had survived the first test of the prophecy.
The runes on Sarah’s back had shocked them both, the intricate design spelling out the future—the destiny the Fates had set for them half a decade ago. Finding the woman they were meant to share had taken far longer than either had anticipated. Neither could have guessed their mate would turn out to be the target they hunted—a woman who wasn’t what she seemed, in more ways than one.
This step, her willingness to attempt trust, meant as much to him as the final commitment she would be asked to make. She’d experienced hell, and she deserved all the patience he could muster.
Tanner reached for her hand as he rose. “You won’t regret it.”
Slipping his fingers around hers, John stood too, unable to hold back a smile. “Thank you, Sarah.”
She didn’t pull away from his touch, but she didn’t seem comfortable with it, either. “We must eat and rest. The search continues tomorrow.”
“Are we close to a town? Maybe we can find a motel for the night. Hell of a lot safer than going to the compound.” At her nod, John gestured to their clothes. “We should probably do a quick change before we leave the woods. Tanner and I didn’t have a chance to play catch up with the time jumps, and your skirt and blouse are a mess from sitting on the ground. Where are we? And what year is it?”
Her ruined clothes morphed into a pale green dress that nearly matched her eyes. “Plainfield, Wisconsin, 1957.”
Tanner’s nineteenth-century New Orleans wardrobe became a black suit paired with wingtips. Looking down, John shook his head at his own identical business attire. Given a choice, he’d sooner wear a noose than a necktie, but keeping his and Tanner’s mate safe came before his preferences in clothing.
Three suitcases appeared a few yards away, and Sarah pulled her hands free. “Our car broke down about half a mile north of here while traveling to visit a relative in Madison. We’re cousins. The children of our uncle Richard’s three sisters.” She furrowed her brow as if considering further instructions. “You may call me Sarah.”
Picking up two of the pieces of luggage, John gave her a warning look when she started to protest. “A gentleman carries a lady’s bags for her. And Sarah is your name. Why wouldn’t I call
you that?”
She led them through the woods toward a deserted stretch of road. “I’ve been Patience Wyndham for much longer than I was Sarah…Pennymead.”
Her hesitation suggested her real name held too many bad memories to even be spoken aloud. Learning her history in finer detail had shed light on her wish to be Patience. Time might heal physical wounds, but the hurt caused by her husband’s and community’s betrayal had evidently left scars much deeper than those on her back. He and Tanner would have to earn every bit of her trust.
“This way.” Her heels sunk into the soft ground as she turned toward a clearing just beyond the trees. “We’ll wait until full daylight to go to the cemetery.”
Tanner grabbed the third suitcase by the handle and muttered something about going to visit psychos under his breath. He’d obviously noticed the pattern in her stops in time. His and John’s study of history hadn’t really helped in their attempt to find her, but they had a thorough knowledge of the violence against mankind since her induction into the Black Triad.
False induction.
“Yes, I’m here to observe him.” Sarah didn’t slow her pace or look back at him when she answered. “Edward Gein is one of the men I chose to evaluate for Naga. He doesn’t feel remorse for what he does to the bodies. He has no conscience.”
“The man is a mentally deranged serial killer. Giving him the powers of an elder would be nuts.”
“Naga will know if I don’t conduct a thorough search. The candidates must fit the profile.”
When she didn’t elaborate, John had to wonder whether she also intended to track down the likes of Ted Bundy, Charles Manson, and Jeffrey Dahmer.
Not while I’m still breathing.
Switching both pieces of luggage to his other hand, he lengthened his stride to catch up with her and take hold of her elbow to guide her over the ditch to the road. “Watch your step.”
She stiffened at his touch but didn’t pull away. “I’m fine.”
Beyond Bewitching Page 4