“I don’t understand any of this,” Des said. “Jessica and I don’t make sense. We’re from different worlds.”
“It seems to me your worlds are intertwined. That journal has touched both of your lives. Perhaps that is the tie that binds you.”
Des pushed off the railing, facing Jag, seeking confirmation that Jessica was his mate, and if so, what it all meant. So many questions flew through his mind, he didn’t know what to ask first. What did their bond really mean? If he walked away would she forget him? Would she go on and be happy?
“Are you saying—”
A female voice filled the air, demanding, upset. “Jessica,” Des explained, his gaze locking with Jag’s.
Her voice sounded again. “I want to talk to Des.”
“Demanding. Fearless. Ready to kick your White Knight ass.” Jag smiled. “I like her already.”
Jessica glared at Rinehart and Max, waiting for her answer. Her fear had taken flight, replaced by an urgent need to get a grasp on her situation. She felt no physical threat from these men, but she felt a sense of unease inside that set her teeth on edge. She didn’t deal well with the unknown. It made her feel the floor might fall out from beneath her at any moment.
She repeated her question and would do so as many times as it took to get a direct answer. “Am. I.A. Prisoner?”
“Jessica.”
The deep voice from behind her resonated along her nerve endings with potent impact. She turned to find Des standing at a patio door.
Des. Everything inside her wanted to believe he was a good guy. But she wasn’t raised a fool, either. She deserved answers and she deserved them from him.
“We need to talk,” she said and cast him a look meant to say that she wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“Agreed,” he said. “But first, there’s someone who’d like to meet you.”
Her chest tightened. Why did this moment feel profound in some unexplainable way? “Who?”
“Our leader. The one who would defend the list in place of Solomon.”
“And why would he be the choice to take Solomon’s place as protector?”
“Why don’t you ask him that question yourself?” Des suggested.
“Where is he?” she asked.
Des lifted a curtain to expose the patio door. “Outside.”
She wanted answers, whatever it took to get them. Tentatively, Jessica stepped forward, aware of Des’s heavy stare, his absorbed attention. She didn’t look at him until they were shoulder to shoulder. Their gazes locked. Torment and regret flashed in his eyes. She saw it. Felt it. Felt him. Damn it, she wanted to hate him for how he’d used her. But Lord help her, she didn’t. She didn’t hate him at all. Her reactions to this man were without reason.
“I need to call my father,” she said softly.
He inclined his head. “Of course, but we need to discuss what to tell him first.”
“Hello, Jessica,” a man’s voice said. He spoke with a hint of Spanish accent. “I’m Jag.”
Jessica stepped onto the porch to find herself face to face with a ruggedly handsome man. A goatee and dark hair that touched his shoulders framed a strong face and square jaw.
“You are the leader of these men?”
“‘These men’ as you call them are the Knights of White, an elite group of warriors. And yes, I am their leader.”
“The Knights of White.” She repeated the name flatly, a bit numb at this point, not sure what to expect. This night got more and more bizarre at every turn.
Jag smiled. “You don’t like our name?”
“The name is fine.” She hesitated. “Different. Unique. But fine.” Her hand motioned to his ring and she frowned. “Your ring. It’s…interesting.”
He held out his hand, welcoming her to view the object of her interest. She bit her bottom lip and peered at the ring. He motioned her forward. “Come closer,” he said. “I don’t bite.”
Stepping forward, she eased the distance between her and the ring, noting it was shaped as a five-pointed star. “It’s Solomon’s seal.”
“It is. Solomon was a protector of humanity, just as I am. It was a gift from my mentor when I took on the leadership role of the Knights. My mate wears the same marking on her shoulder as well.”
Jessica frowned. “Your mate? You mean wife?”
“We are not like you, Jessica. On some level, I think you know this already. There is a ritual for our kind, which bonds us together, linking our souls. We live and die together. We are one. The star appears when that ritual is completed.” He smiled, his handsome face taking on a tender quality that softened the harsh lines of his features. “Her name is Karen. I think you’d like her.”
Her knees trembled as she asked her next question, somehow feeling it would have a profound impact on her future. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because what is different is often frightening. I need you to see us as who we are. It is our duty to find that list and protect those bloodlines, and we need your help to do that. Your mother was a great warrior in her own way. She knew that list had to be protected. She sensed evil hunted it. And she was right.”
She shook her head. Her mother had believed all of this. Deep down, Jessica did, too. But still. The strangeness kept growing, getting bigger, far beyond what she had accepted as reality in her day-to-day world. “I keep thinking I’m dreaming. Studying something you think is a myth and deciding it’s all real are two very different things.”
Jag reached out and touched her hand, and Jessica gasped at the impact. Suddenly, images flashed in her mind. Des fighting some horrid creatures—oh God, demons! She sucked in a breath, experiencing the same pain Des felt as a knife sliced his hand, feeling his will as he’d pushed past it. The night he’d come to the museum, she realized. That was how he had been injured.
Battle after battle played in her mind in fast forward. Des fighting demons. She saw all the men she had met, swords as their weapons, demons as their enemies. These were the Knights of White. They were demon hunters.
Abruptly, the images changed, replaced by visions of her and Des in her apartment, and again emotions wrapped around Jessica. She knew the torment Des had felt over lying to her. Then the picture in her mind shifted and she saw Des running up the stairs earlier that night, trying to get to her before Greg did. And she knew the fear he’d felt for her safety.
And then her mother was there, her mother writing in her diaries, fretting over a secret she had to hide, a secret that affected her family. Jessica’s chest tightened at the vivid image. Mom. Mom! But the picture faded and she couldn’t get it back. Everything went black.
Jessica blinked against the dampness in her eyes, realizing she was crying. Her gaze latched on to Jag’s. “Now you know why we need your help,” he said. “Will you help us, Jessica?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll help.” Through those visions she knew this was her calling, her destiny.
“Thank you.” He smiled, a smile that touched his eyes with sincerity. “You’ll have to meet my mate, Karen, someday soon. I think the two of you would find you have a lot in common.”
He inclined his head slightly. “Until we meet again.” Jag didn’t say more, nor did he give her a chance to ask anything else. He eyed Des over her shoulder. “I’ll see what I can find out about those initials you mentioned.”
Jessica wished Jag farewell and then turned to face Des, noting the questions in his eyes. She knew he had no idea what Jag had shown her. She hadn’t thanked Jag for the insight, she realized, and turned back to him only to find he was gone. She drew a breath, head spinning with the bizarreness of this world she had entered, with the magnitude of the information Jag had shared in such a short time.
She turned back to Des, her gaze resting on his handsome, rugged face. She wondered how the scar above his lip had happened. Wondered why she hadn’t noticed more scars on his body when they’d made love. She’d seen the countless battles he’d fought. She’d felt his lone
liness both in those visions and in this moment. She found she wanted to be the one to erase that feeling from Des, to heal him.
“What just happened with you and Jag?” he asked.
“He showed me the truth.”
His eyes darkened, grew more alert. “Meaning what?”
Jessica walked toward him, stopping when they were toe-to-toe. “Enough to more than earn that commitment I gave to help you,” she said, and quickly amended her statement. “I want to help.”
Several seconds passed before he answered. “I hated lying to you,” he said, his voice a bit husky. “If I’d told you the truth and you’d called the police—”
She cut him off. “You couldn’t risk losing the journal. I get that after Jag showed me those things.”
“Which was what?” he prodded again.
Enough to know Des hadn’t used her, that he cared about her. That there was something profound about their meeting and she was no fool. Jag had told her of his mate for a reason. But she didn’t say that. Didn’t question Des about their bond. The time wasn’t right.
She ignored his question. “You had to pretend to be a donor, Des. I get that.” Still, one thing bothered her and she couldn’t simply put it aside. A part of her was hurt and angry. “But you didn’t have to sleep with me in the process.”
“I know,” he said. “Believe me, I know. And I don’t blame you if you hate me for it. But right now, looking at you, feeling what I do, I don’t know if I could have changed that night no matter how hard I tried. I wanted you.”
The rough way he spoke the words, full of conviction, washed over her, igniting a mixture of passion and anger. “You think wanting me makes what happened okay?”
“No, but it doesn’t change the truth.” His voice was low, a primal quality lacing the tone. “I wanted you too much to walk away.”
He pulled her close then, mouth slanting over hers, tongue darting past her lips, hungry, sliding against hers, drinking her in. She melted into the kiss, wanting it, wanting him. God, how she wanted this man. Her hands slid around his waist, her chest pressed to his. She couldn’t get enough of him. His smell, his taste.
The sound of a throat being cleared barely broke into Jessica’s lust-filled haze. Then she heard, “Sorry to interrupt.”
Des tore his mouth from Jessica’s, and they both looked toward the door to find Max standing there. “I’ve got something to show you.”
“Now?” Des snapped.
“Uh, yeah. You’re both gonna want to see this.”
Chapter 14
Jessica followed Des into the living room to find Max and Rinehart staring at a television screen, and Jessica’s eyes went wide as she realized her father was the main attraction.
“Oh good Lord,” Jessica said. “I have to call him before he has the damn National Guard looking for me.”
Max eyed Des for approval and then handed her a cell phone. “It’s untraceable.”
“You can’t tell him the truth,” Des warned.
“I can handle my father,” Jessica assured him, dialing the phone.
A few minutes later, she hung up, her father dealt with. Jessica had given him enough detail to assure him she was safe, while convincing him that Des’s private security people had saved her from her attackers and were helping her hunt down the journal. Apparently, Michael was worried sick and her father promised to update him. Her father’s relief over Jessica’s safety had him promising to help her deal with the police for her. Eventually, she’d have to explain everything to them, but for now, he’d arrange a temporary reprieve.
Des motioned her to the kitchen. “I set the table up as a work area.”
“Great,” she said, casting him an appreciative look, thankful to be treated as part of the team, not a prisoner. “I do have a suggestion, since time is obviously of the essence.” Only Max and Des remained in the room. She had no idea where all the other men had gone. “If my mother had any theories about the location of the box and the list, she would have planned expeditions through her research teams.”
“I assume her team was part of a company?” Max asked.
Jessica nodded. “Yes. My father set up a privately held corporation that he funded for my mother’s work—Montgomery Enterprises. My mother’s last wish was to find that journal, so he kept the operation alive, even though nothing was going forward. We should be able to get a list of expedition locations through the company. Anything of importance found in the diaries can be cross-referenced to her planned dig sites.”
“Excellent,” Max said. “If I get that information, I can work up a series of data queries that will tell us which is our best bet based on numerical probability.”
Des looked at Max as if the man was insane. “Numerical probability.”
Jessica couldn’t help but smile. Des and Max had a bit of an oil-and-water vibe flowing from them. Absently, she wondered a bit about Max herself. He’d mastered the rough-and-tough renegade look, but spit out information as if he should be wearing glasses and a suit.
“Numerical probability is all we have right now,” Max snapped back at Des.
“I can say with ninety-nine percent certainty we’re looking at a Mexican location,” Jessica commented, but hesitated as she considered the best approach. “I’ll need to talk to my father in person. He’s already pretty on edge, but I know I can get the information out of him once he sees me.”
Max perked up at that. “There’s a chance I can pull what we need remotely if I have the right data. Key employees of Montgomery Enterprises, addresses and phone numbers to start.” He grabbed a pad and pen. “Give me anything you can.”
Jessica wrote down what she knew, which took some thinking. Task completed, she followed Des into the kitchen and sat down at the sturdy wooden table.
Side by side, they began to read. The silence that fell between them was remarkably comfortable, and Jessica couldn’t help but sneak an occasional peak at his handsome features. Every once in a while, their gazes would lift and connect, her stomach fluttering with the contact.
Needing distraction, she looked around the tiny kitchen, which had no decor aside from the fast-food bags the men had left on the counters. And suddenly Jessica had the most amazing feeling of belonging. A feeling her mother had described experiencing when she was at certain dig sites.
Jessica’s gaze slid back to Des, and a sense of being needed overcame her. Des needed her. Funny thing was—she thought she might just need him too.
Hours passed as Des and Jessica pored over pages and pages of writing, until Des felt he had finally found something worth seeing. He’d stumbled onto a few passages noting potential dig locations. The ones that were circled and highlighted had several smudged notations he couldn’t quite decipher. Rock picked that moment to return from his run to the corner store. Des cast him a sideways look and noted the tray of foam coffee cups. Rock stopped at Des’s side and tossed him a peanut-butter cup.
Jessica accepted coffee, though Des waved off the offer, trying to focus. That didn’t stop him from ripping open the candy, though.
“You love that peanut butter,” she said.
He glanced up and smiled. “It’s addictive,” he said, but not as much as you, he added silently.
Des held out the package and offered Jessica one of the two candies in it; she accepted. He stilled a moment as he watched her take a bite. It had been so long since he’d shared more than sex with a woman. Such a small act was amazingly intimate and warm.
She swallowed a bite. “I forgot how good these things are,” she said. “Or maybe I’m just that hungry.” She glanced down at her diary and refocused on Des. “I’ve been through everything I have here. Please tell me you found something.”
He finished off the last of his snack. “Actually, I think we finally have a destination. Based on what I’m reading, I’d say we’ve got a long drive ahead of us. We’re headed to Guerrero, Mexico.” He handed her the diary and pointed out the illegible text. “Can you make
out any of that?”
Jessica studied the diary Des had been reviewing for several seconds, a grim expression on her face. “No.” She gave him a look filled with concern. “And not only is Guerrero a long drive, it’s a big state.” She thought a moment. “My mother often kept maps with handwritten notes. I can try to get my hands on those. My father would know where they are.” She reached for the phone that was still sitting on the table from her earlier call with him.
Des covered her hand with his, stopping her action. “It’s four in the morning. Why don’t you get some sleep and call him in a couple of hours?”
“Shouldn’t we leave now?” she asked.
“Sunrise is soon enough,” he said. “We’ll need to pack up and make some arrangements anyway.” He called out across the room. “Max!”
“I’m already here,” Max spoke behind him, “and yes, I got into the company database Jessica mentioned and there is a reference to two cities in Guerrero. Tepecoacuilco and Ixcateopan. They were on a list of planned digs that never saw funding.”
“I remember her talking about Tepecoacuilco,” Jessica commented, before glancing back down at the page and starting to read, her finger following text as if she feared she’d miss something.
Scrubbing his jaw, Des didn’t see there were many travel options. “Greg’s a wanted man. He won’t risk the airport. It’s a two-day drive. We could make up time by flying.”
“We need our equipment and weapons,” Max argued.
“True,” Des said, his gaze catching on Jessica as he noted she had gone pale, her attention on the text inside the diary. “Jessica?”
She flipped the page and read for several more seconds before her lashes lifted. “Now I know why my mother was so obsessed with the journal that final year before her death.” She swallowed, as if she might be fighting emotion. “Finding the journal had become personal.”
“Go on,” Des prodded, not sure what to expect, though his instincts had gone on alert.
“I have notes here regarding the reason the box is so important. My mother references finding writings she believed to be Solomon’s and some perhaps that were written by another person close to him. She was quite certain the list will be encoded to protect the innocent. That it will take months, if not years, to figure it all out.”