Take

by Nashoda Rose

  Then he tortured me for six years; watched me suffer. Forced me to heal him. He had left reminders on my body, so every time I looked at myself in the mirror I saw him.

  “Jesus, the Talde in England. The little girl, Breanna,” Xamien said beneath his breath. “Everything was burned to the ground.”

  I nodded and stepped back from Jasper’s grip on my hips. I was instantly cold and wanted the comfort of his hands again. It was possessive and protective and yet, Jasper was neither. Not really. He was both at that moment merely because he was paid to be.

  Xamien put his hand on my shoulder as if knowing I needed some sort of support. “But there are no Healers missing. How is it that the bastard can Trace now? You said you had to heal his lungs every week so he’d be able to Trace.”

  Everyone was quiet.

  Waleron had yet to react to anything I was saying, but he rarely reacted—stone cold.

  “You should’ve fuckin’ told me it was that bastard who did that to her. That it was Drake after her.” Jasper’s voice erupted in the silence. I jerked but his abrupt words weren’t directed at me; they were at Waleron. “Jesus.” He turned and strode away and I watched him, the muscles in his back tight and his hand running through his hair as he stalked to the car then slammed his fist down on the roof. The sound echoed and I knew there had to be one hell of a dent.

  When he turned around and started walking back, his eyes never left mine as the fear slid over my skin in a suffocating black tar. My fear was not of Jasper; it was what I knew had to have happened. This was worse. Way worse. There was only one possibility as to how Drake was strong enough to Trace without a Healer.

  Jasper reached me and without hesitating, he wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me into him while his other hand cupped my chin. “I can protect you.” I tried to shake my head, but his hand prevented me. “I’m good at what I do.”

  “You’re a killer. That is what you do.” I said it gently and I hadn’t meant it to be mean, just that it was the truth. Jasper was a killer. He was good at that. He was the hunter, not the hunted and at the moment, we were the hunted by an ancient Scar that could Trace and now . . . now he was stronger than ever. Because Drake was now vampire.

  Jasper’s jaw clenched and his lips pursed together. Then his gaze drifted to Waleron as he said, “Yeah, well someone has to do what needs to be done.” I thought I saw Waleron give a microscopic nod, but I couldn’t be sure and his expression never changed.

  “He’s vampire,” Waleron said as if reading my thoughts. “It’s the only way he could be strong again without a Healer.”

  Xamien swore under his breath. There was no other possibility, except that Drake had gone hybrid. “Balen has a strong ability to Track vampires. We can call him.”

  Balen was a Scar Tracker who was with a Talde in Toronto. He had once drunk vampire blood in exchange for saving a woman’s life. He’d nearly Transitioned into a vampire, but fought the hunger of the blood thirst and defeated it.

  But it wouldn’t matter if they found Drake. If he’d Transitioned, then he was more than likely stronger than ever and would stop at nothing to find me. But why would he want me now if he didn’t need me to heal his lungs?

  My legs gave out when I realized why. Jasper held me tight against him, his breath up against my neck.

  Drake knew. He knew I could heal his Ink. That was why he was searching for me. It was the only possibility. The timing was right. Six months ago, I’d communicated with Waleron’s Ink. Six months ago, Drake supposedly started asking questions about a girl with scars.

  “What is it?” Jasper whispered in my mind.

  I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell anyone. If they knew I was capable of healing Drake’s Ink, Waleron would kill me and then Xamien would retaliate. But healing Drake’s Ink would make him almost undefeatable. A hybrid with an Ink so deadly the Goddess had to kill it . . .

  Then it hit me. Drake wanted to change me into a vampire. I’d be a slave to him—he’d be my master. I’d have no choice but to do what he wanted and I’d be forced to heal his Ink. But I had one small advantage. If Drake got to me, I had to willingly drink his blood in order to Transition.

  But no matter what, if Waleron knew, he’d never allow me to live and risk the lives of the Scars.

  I looked over at Xamien who was scowling at Jasper. I loved Xamien; he was the closest I had to family and just like my mother and Talde had tried to protect me, so would Xamien. He’d even go against Waleron.

  “I’ll stay with her,” Xamien said. “If he’s a vampire, then I’m better protecting her than Jasper.”

  Jasper’s arms tensed around me and for a minute, I thought he was going to argue, but he didn’t and I hated that I felt disappointed. Then I was mad that I did.

  “Xamien,” Waleron said in a calm, steady voice. “I need you with me. We have a better chance finding him being able to Trace. You and I are the only Scars left with the ability besides Drake.” He nodded to Jasper. “Two weeks. Take her.”

  Jasper hesitated and then nodded and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the car. “Jasper wait.” He kept tugging me behind him and I looked back at Xamien who was now head to head with Waleron and the tension was palpable.

  “No way am I letting Xamien have you.” Jasper’s voice was abrupt and I was startled at his choice of words. What he didn’t realize was that I hadn’t been about to say that. I’d wanted to say goodbye to Xamien. “I want my payment and I won’t get it if you land in that asshole’s hands.” He ground out the words as though he was angry at them.

  I stopped as fury boiled over in my chest. “I’m already in an asshole’s hands,” I shot back.

  “Very funny, princess.”

  “So, now I’m a princess?”

  “Yeah, you’re a fuckin’ princess. And right now, you’re my princess.” He pushed down on my head. “Get in the car.”

  I did and he slammed the door.

  “Max . . . or do you want me to call you Breanna now?” Xamien’s comforting voice entered my head.

  “Max, sir,” I replied. That was who I was now. For six years, I was no one, something used, an object, and when I became Max, I was a person again. Xamien didn’t use me or hurt me. He just loved me for the broken girl I’d become.

  I was stronger than Breanna. I fought to bury the fear Drake had instilled in me and even though it lived there still, it didn’t own me like it used to. And now Jasper . . . I looked over at him as he folded into the car. Jasper unearthed the fear and made me want to fight for the girl I was now.

  “We’ll find him,” Xamien said. “You know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  I did know and that was what terrified me. “Xamien?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I . . . love you. Not like . . . well . . .”

  “Love you, too, Max.” He paused. “Promise you’ll be careful with Jasper. You know what I mean, right?”

  The time to be careful had already passed. “Yeah, I’ll be careful.”

  Jasper skidded out of the small airport gates and horns honked as he went through the red light. He didn’t say anything and neither did I for ten minutes.

  Finally, I broke. “What’s with two weeks?”

  He glanced at me and his grip on the steering wheel tightened, the leather crackling beneath the pressure. “My job’s over.”

  “And then?” My voice quaked and I hated that I was letting the fear back in, but it wasn’t just Drake who now blanketed me with uncertainty. It was Xamien’s safety and the feelings I had for Jasper. It was what I might have to do in order to protect them all. What my Talde should’ve done years ago. What I should’ve tried to do during those six years with Drake, but I was too scared and weak.

  “Jesus, Max. He won’t get to you. Do you hear me?” When I didn’t answer, he repeated, “He. Won’t. Get. To. You. Say it.”

  I didn’t because eventually Drake would get to me. “And if he’s not caught before your job is over?” />
  “You’ll be fine. I have a place you’ll be safe.”

  “So, you just leave me there and that’s it?”

  Jasper slammed his hand into the dash and the vibration shook the car. “Max, damn it. I can’t give more than that. I’m already too clos—” The car jerked forward even faster. “I can’t.”

  I was uncertain what he meant by I can’t. But it sounded as if he was talking aloud to himself rather than to me.

  I looked out the window.

  He pulled up to a hotel a few hours later and this time it was a nice one with a beautiful garden out front and a yellow arch over the driveway. It was small, maybe fifty rooms, and was only four stories. The mountains were behind it and I imagined there was skiing here in the winter.

  I got out and followed him into the lobby where we were greeted by stunning marble floors and a cascading staircase. Jasper ignored it all and guided me to the front desk where a young, impeccably dressed woman greeted us.

  I noticed her eyes roam appreciatively over Jasper and expected him to procure a half-cocked grin. Except this time, he was all business to the girl’s obvious disappointment. He insisted on a room on the ground floor and then paid for it in cash. Without looking at me, he grabbed my hand and we walked down the row of rooms until we reached the last one. He unlocked the door, flicked on the light and then yanked the curtains closed, blocking the view of the mountain.

  “Get some rest.”

  I stood at the door while he checked the room over. “I was thinking,” he went into the bathroom and washed his hands. When he came out I continued, “what if we use me to lure Drake?” I knew it was risky, but they didn’t know Drake like I did. He’d never give up. He was relentless in his pursuit to be the most powerful Scar. That was all he talked about.

  Jasper bent over and shuffled through his bag, ignoring me.

  “I can talk to this Adrian guy and make certain you get your money.” Fear could break you, but it could also drive you to conquer it and I’d been trying for four years by practicing with my blades. Needing to feel strong again. I was a weak puppet used by a man for my ability. “I know him. I know his weaknesses.” And I was stronger now. I could destroy his Ink so it never had the chance of being reborn again. I didn’t know for certain if I could do it or if it was possible, but at the moment it was the best I had.

  “No!” Jasper stood up straight and kicked his bag to the side. “Fuck. No.”

  “It makes sense. He won’t kill me. I’m a possession to him. I belong to him. He wouldn’t—”

  “Jesus, Max. You hear what you said? You don’t fuckin’ belong to him. And that isn’t happening. Period.”

  “I want it to end, damn it!” I shouted. “I’m sick of living in a bubble. I want out, Jasper. We can use . . .”

  Jasper started toward me, his hands curled into fists, tension in every part of his body. I raised my chin, but my heart was slamming into my ribcage and it wasn’t in fear. I wasn’t scared of Jasper, his words may be harsh, but there was something in him I trusted. That speck in his eyes that refused to let me in, but revealed his vulnerability, his softness.

  He grabbed my arms, fingers bruising. “He is never getting near you again. Two weeks, two fuckin’ years, two hundred years. He isn’t touching you again.”

  “I know him better than anyone. I can get him to trust me and—”

  “You think he’ll trust you for one second? He’ll chain you up and make certain you never escape him again. Then if you’re lucky, he’ll only torture you. Unlucky, he’ll find someone you care about and torture them right in front of you. And then . . . then you’ll willingly drink his blood and become his slave.”

  “But if we can—”

  “What would you do if he had Xamien hanging from his fingernails being tortured day after day? Tell me, Max. Will you break then? Or will you watch him suffer for weeks? Hear his screams, hoping someone will come in time to save you both.” His jaw pulsated and his voice was laced with anger. I realized, this wasn’t about me—this was about him.

  “Jasper—”

  “But they’ll come too late and she’ll be dead.”

  My breath hitched. He said she. What had happened to him? Who was she?

  “Fuck!” Suddenly, he pushed me away from him and strode into the bathroom and slammed the door. “You don’t belong to him,” he shouted. “And he won’t get to you.”

  I heard the tap turn on and then a loud bang. There was no doubt something in Jasper’s past was exactly as he said. Coldness seeped into me as I imagined what could have happened. Had he made a choice like that? Was that why he was alone? Why he kept his distance from everyone? What made him this way?

  He opened the door again half an hour later. Water dripped off his chin and the strands of his hair. And his face—darkness. Ravaged pain had crept into the depths of his eyes and sat there unhidden beneath the cocky confidence he exuded. A beast lingered and it looked ready to attack.

  While curled up in the chair, he went to walk by me. I don’t know why I did it except it was instinctive. I reached out and placed my hand on his forearm. There was a stark contrast to my white skin against the black vivid ink of his tattoos. We contrasted in a lot of ways . . . except for what we both hid from others and ourselves.

  “I’m sorry. For whatever happened to you . . . and her.”

  He jerked, but not away from me, just muscles flexing beneath my palm.

  Our eyes met and I saw the moment his raw pain shifted and became hidden beneath a veil of cocky confidence. I slid my hand down his arm until my fingers linked with his.

  He glanced down at our interlocked hands. “Unless you want to fuck right now, let me go.”

  I knew he was acting out, just like I did by being cold and silent. It was my safety net to stay closed off. Jasper was doing the same thing.

  But I was tired of my safety net and I wanted it to break.

  I slipped my hand from his, stood, then grabbed the bottom of my shirt and yanked it up over my head.

  “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU doing?”

  She pulled off her shirt and tossed it on the floor. All the blood rushed from my head right down to my cock. Her pearl white skin against the black lace bra covering her breasts left me speechless. Fuck. Everything about her threw my usual steady composure into unchartered territory.

  I wanted to fuck her. Hear her scream and beg, and I wanted it over and over again.

  The sound of the zipper on her jeans had my heart slamming like a freight train into my ribs. I swallowed. Why was I just standing here? Why couldn’t I react? I should grab her and fuck her to get it out of my system. I’d never expected it would be her doing the instigating and me the hesitating.

  I grabbed her arms. “No.” What the hell was I doing? I hadn’t been laid in months. I’d stalked her; watched her for months and now . . . now I was pushing her away.

  But I was selfish and harsh and she’d said it herself . . . I was an asshole and suddenly I didn’t want her to see me that way.

  “Why not? You want me and I want you. It’s sex. I’m not stupid enough to think it’s anything more, Jasper.”

  I jerked at her words. For some reason, Max’s words bothered me—big time. That should be even more of a reason I should fuck her and prove to myself this was just that—sex. “How long since you fucked a guy?”

  “What?” Her arms moved as if she was about to cross them over her breasts and then decided against it and put them back at her sides. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Because when I fuck you, it will be hard. I need to know if you can take it.” I’d expected her to grab her shirt and put it back on. That was what I had intended. To scare her. Instead, she stared at me as she undid her bra and let it fall to the floor.

  Fuck.

  I was a guy. A guy that didn’t give a shit if a woman hated me in the morning, but they never did. I may be a selfish bastard but I never left a woman unsatisfied. And it was more a self-serving re
ason as I could always get seconds when I wanted. But this was different. Everything about it was different. Max was different.

  And that should’ve scared me enough to walk away.

  But Max . . . staring at her milky white, naked skin . . . her handful of breasts with nipples erect and waiting for my mouth to suck on them. I should’ve walked back into the bathroom, shut the door and jerked myself off in the shower.

  I didn’t.

  She wiggled her hips, slid off her jeans and stepped out of them.

  Jesus. It was that word for two reasons. She was fuckin’ gorgeous even with scars all over her legs and a few on her stomach. Some of them were faint lines like what would come from a knife, but others looked raw and raised, maybe burns from something.

  And that fucked me right up imagining her being held down and burned and cut, her screaming with pain, thrashing against the very bastard I was protecting her from. I could picture it, hear it and it was fucking with my head because I’d lived it. Watched as a child had been thrown carelessly into a grave after hearing the screams.

  Shit, Max deserved more than me. I couldn’t do it. I wanted to prove to myself that I could and still walk away from her, but I knew I was already feeling more for her than I should. For months I tried to convince myself it was nothing, but it was something. It was a fuck of a lot of something. “Put your clothes on.” I turned away from her, walked around the other side of the bed and lay down. I put my hands beneath my head and closed my eyes. Unfortunately, all I saw was Max standing naked and willing in front of me.