Authors: Anne Hope
“I’m not afraid of you.” He was dangerous, no question about that, but for some inexplicable reason she felt safe with him.
“You should be.” He took a few predatory steps toward her, then twined his fingers in her hair in a gesture that was passionate enough to be painful. “I can get inside your head, make you do anything I want.”
“I doubt that.”
“I’ll prove it.” A wicked glint deepened his eyes to emerald. “Take off your robe.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, dug her heels in, literally and figuratively. “Cassie told me you have a way of always getting what you want from women, but this shocking display of overconfidence is a little much. Even for you.”
Surprise clouded his features. “It doesn’t work on you.” She couldn’t tell if what she caught in his voice was pleasure or regret.
“What doesn’t work on me?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
Irritation swept in to tighten her stomach muscles, followed closely by exasperation. “You can really drive a girl mad, you know that?”
A tight laugh resonated in his chest. “You’ve got no idea.”
Frantic waves beat the shore. They pounded sand and rock with violent fists right before they crested at the foot of the cliff where Marcus stood. The Watchers’ complex sat at the head of a tall hill framing the sea. It was peaceful out here, deserted. In this small corner of the world, a Hybrid didn’t have to fear what he was. There was no one around for miles. No one he could influence or corrupt. No one who could influence and corrupt him.
His encounter with Jace Cutler had shaken him, and that was saying a lot, because his kind wasn’t easily flustered. He still couldn’t understand what had happened last night, why he’d let Cutler walk away. The impulse to back off had been stronger than him, impossible to control or subdue. Now what the hell was he going to tell Cal? The man was counting on him.
“I thought I’d find you out here.” Cal’s familiar voice echoed above the surf as whitecaps continued to froth below. The guy had a sixth sense like nothing Marcus had ever seen before. No detail escaped him. Marcus’s tracking abilities paled in comparison.
“Needed some time alone to think.”
“I gather things didn’t go according to plan last night.”
Marcus hesitated. Even though he was a soulless son of a bitch, he still cared enough to want to please Cal. The man was like a father to him, the only one he remembered. He couldn’t stomach the thought of disappointing him. “I’m still trying to sort everything out. I had him, Cal. I had him cornered. Then I just let him go.”
Puzzled brows rode high on Cal’s forehead. “He planted a suggestion?”
“That’s the only thing that makes sense, but I just can’t wrap my brain around it. We’re not supposed to be able to influence each other. That only works on humans. But I know one thing—I wouldn’t have released him. Not willingly.”
Cal studied the battling swells below, equally balanced forces rising from the sea to duel for dominance. “This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. If he asserted his power over you, then he can assert his power over others like you.”
“You mean Athanatos?”
“I doubt anyone could influence Athanatos—he’s too powerful—but his followers are a different story. We need to get Cutler on our side.”
A seagull swooped down to nip at the damp sand. Its mournful cries rose to the sky, beckoning others to join the feast. “How? He doesn’t trust me. And I certainly didn’t win him over last night. I think I nicked him with my dagger. There was angel’s blood on it.”
“An unfortunate setback, but nothing that can’t be put right.” Cal inclined his eyes toward the heavens as if seeing something visible only to him. He did that often—stared at the infinite stretch above with a longing that pierced with its intensity. “Did you manage to read him? Is he likely to go rogue?”
“Can’t be sure. The darkness is strong in him, almost pure. His impulses could prove hard to control. I think he may have already fed. His behavior was wild, erratic. You should’ve seen what he did to that guy, Cal. He would’ve killed him if I hadn’t shown up.”
“But he didn’t.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Then there’s hope.”
Marcus scoffed. “If we can get through his thick skull. The guy’s as pigheaded as they come.”
The statement didn’t deter Cal in the least. Very few things did. “If you can’t take him by force, then we’ll just have to persuade him to come to us.”
“How?”
“By capturing what he most desires.”
The wind picked up, and—although it was physically impossible—Marcus could’ve sworn he felt the chill. “Are you referring to Lia Benson?”
“You said it yourself; her energy perfectly mirrors his. If my theory is correct, then she’s the key.”
“We’d be taking one hell of a risk. You know how protective a Hybrid can be of what’s his.”
Contentment tugged at Cal’s mouth, and his impassive face almost broke into a smile. “That’s what I’m counting on.”
Chapter Eleven
Jasmine and lavender. The subtle fragrance taunted him from beyond the closed bathroom door, spiced with the familiar scent of her skin. Lia was taking a shower, and Jace’s senses were so sharp, he could hear the water caressing her naked flesh, the soap bar gliding erotically over her belly, sliding down the gentle flare of her hips to coat them with suds.
She liked it. Liked the way the water massaged her, warm and silky. Liked the soft touch of the soap and how clean it made her feel.
Her thoughts traveled through the atmosphere like sound waves, rang loud and clear in his head. He sensed her confusion, the maelstrom of emotions warring inside her, her desire to throw caution to the wind and follow her heart for once. For a second she considered inviting him to join her, and the force of her yearning nearly undid him. Every inch of him burned with the need to explore and possess. Hell, for a chance to stand naked beside her, he would’ve even risked drowning again.
Jace swallowed an oath. He was losing it. He couldn’t be reading Lia’s mind. More likely he was hearing an echo of his own thoughts. He wanted her—there was no question about that—and his desire ran deeper than the physical.
She was all wrong for him. It didn’t take a genius to see that Lia Benson was his polar opposite, all goodness and light, while he was anything but. Her sister was more his type, a long-legged beauty with a soul as ravaged as his. Provided he had a soul. He couldn’t be sure of anything anymore, except for the yawning emptiness inside him.
The water stopped, and moments later she emerged, wrapped in a baby-blue terrycloth robe, her skin rosy from the warm assault of the jets, her hair a burnished cascade of damp curls tumbling over her shoulders. He hadn’t realized how long her hair was, or how damn silky it looked. His hand itched with the need to touch it, to wrap one of those wicked strands around his finger and anchor her to him. Her haloing glow burned so bright, he had to squint to look at her. That phosphorous essence filled him, even as the hunger inside him grew painful. The dueling needs to consume and protect raged beneath his ribs. He wasn’t sure which was more powerful or which would win. He knew only that he couldn’t walk away. No matter what.
A shy smile flickered across her mouth. “Shower’s all yours. Try not to smash the door this time.”
He would’ve liked nothing more than to offer a smart reply, but his voice was buried beneath thick layers of emotion. The only thought in his head was how impossibly radiant she was. He was a flaming idiot for ever thinking of her as plain.
His silence discomfited her. He didn’t need to read her thoughts to know it. He saw it in the tight clasp of her arms across her chest and the jerky way she shifted her weight to the balls of her feet. “I never asked you how you found me.”
“You’re in the book,” he lied. The truth was, some crazy instinct had driven him to her. All he’d had to do was picture her face in his mind. “Not too many Lia Bensons with an M.D. after their name.”
Her gaze flitted from her feet to her hands, then settled somewhere beyond his shoulder as she struggled to avoid making eye contact. “Yeah, I guess so.” She offered him a tremulous smile. “I have to get to the hospital. Make yourself at home while I’m gone.”
She breezed past him, a fragrant cloud of flowers and woman, soft and inviting. Dark, dangerous need coiled in his gut. He wanted to follow her, grab her and press her to the wall, feel her curves mold to his body and her wet skin brush his. He wanted to crush her mouth, devour it, pull her essence deep inside him where it could never escape him.
Instead, he stalked into the bathroom, where her feminine scent lingered and another ice-cold shower awaited him.
An unnatural hush hung over the hospital today, soft and pacifying. A minimum number of trauma patients were brought in, the staff seemed relatively calm and happy, and no one got into a scrap over an overturned cart. Overall, life was good.
Lia busied herself making her rounds, reassuring her patients, going over test results, but she had trouble concentrating. Memories of Jace kept invading her thoughts—the way he’d cradled her in his arms last night, the vulnerability she’d caught in his eyes when he’d asked her if she’d be willing to kiss him. God, she’d wanted to. The mere thought of it made electric energy vibrate in her pores, until her skin ached from it. Loneliness was far more comfortable than this unfamiliar yearning that had taken root within her. She was used to being alone. The last thing she’d been looking for was a relationship, and a complicated one at that.
Yet here she was, suddenly unable to think of anything else, as though she’d found the part of herself that had been missing all these years.
It made no sense. She didn’t believe in things such as fate, even less so in the theory of soul mates. Her mother had spent her entire life looking for her other half, only to fail miserably. At the moment, Janine Evans Benson Lorenzo Morris was going through her fourth bitter divorce. Cassie was so much like their mom, it was scary. Every part of her being was centered on finding
the one,
the man who’d complete her, that once-in-a-lifetime relationship that would finally validate her existence.
Lia had always prided herself on refusing to become a slave to foolish romantic notions. She was in charge of her own destiny. She’d never needed a man to feel complete.
Until now.
She’d even considered seducing him that morning, which was totally unlike her. That was more something Cassie would do. Still, the thought of inviting him to join her in the shower had thrilled and invigorated her. Thankfully, she hadn’t worked up the nerve to actually go through with it, partly because she was a coward and partly because the fear of hurting her sister had held her back. She couldn’t control her thoughts or her yearnings, but she could control her actions. That had to count for something.
With a sigh, Lia took a sip of her coffee—black, no sugar—and pulled out the next lab report. Unlike matters of the heart, medicine was something she understood, and understood well. One document in particular snagged her attention. Jace’s bloodwork was in. She studied the results, looking for anything that could explain the events of the past two days.
Nothing.
Everything appeared perfectly normal. The viral check would take a couple of days to come in, but she was willing to bet nothing would show up there either. Maybe Jace was right. Maybe she really couldn’t explain any of this with something as mundane as a medical exam. There were some things science still failed to grasp. Perhaps what had happened to Jace was one of them.
Lia paused as she noted the discrepancy. When Jace was first admitted to the hospital, a sample of his blood had been sent to the lab to determine his blood type, in the event he needed a transfusion. The results had indicated a rare subtype—A2 negative. This sample was A negative.
She wasn’t sure what had transpired, but she knew for a fact that this second sample hadn’t come from Jace Cutler.
She caught sight of Katie at the nurse’s station, flagged her down. “Katie, are you the one who collected that blood sample from Jace Cutler?”
“No.” The young nurse flushed. “Diane did.”
The mention of that woman’s name made ice crust along Lia’s nerves.
“I know you assigned the task to me,” Katie quickly justified, “and I had every intention of doing it myself. I was on my way to his room when Diane saw me and offered to take over. I was going to say no, but for some reason I didn’t.” Katie worried her lower lip. “To be honest, I was kinda relieved.”
Katie’s statement puzzled Lia. “Why?”
She hitched her shoulder in a childlike shrug. “I didn’t like being around him. He made me feel funny. I don’t know how to explain it. Whenever I was with him, everything looked bleak, like a faded image, a painting with no color.” She reflected, buried her hands in the pockets of her nurse’s uniform. “It’s as if he ate away all my hope and all that was left was despair.”
“That’s impossible. No person can do that.”
“Not a person, no.” The girl averted her gaze. “But a demon could.”
Katie was taking this superstitious nonsense a little too far. Lia tamped down the wave of foreboding cresting in her chest and shook her head. “There’s no such thing as demons.”
“That’s not what my grandmother says. She says demons walk among us wearing human flesh. That they bring out the worst in people, push them to violence, then feed on their souls.
“There’s a legend in our family,” Katie continued, her expression brimming with conviction. “A couple of centuries ago one of my ancestors was traveling by wagon from Iowa to Oregon with a group of pioneers. By the time they reached Malheur River, they were exhausted. That’s when they met another group of travelers that had set up camp there. The strangers invited them to stop and rest, and the pioneers agreed.
“But then everything started to go wrong. Despair set in. The pioneers became angry, disoriented. They couldn’t agree which route to take. They started to fight. One man actually killed another in a fit of rage. My ancestor swore that he saw one of the strangers bend over and swallow the dead man’s soul. He totally freaked out and ran for his life. He later returned with a rescue party, but there was no sign of the others.