He’d use Black Dog and kill him. And he’d use this Jessica and kill her, too. As for the Knights, they were nothing but a pain in his ass. They would be the first to die. He might be beat, but he wasn’t going down without punishing everyone who had taken his glory.

  None of the Knights would touch the box. They were all afraid to find out what would happen: if they were dark enough to cause its destruction.

  It took an hour for Des to clear enough dirt around the box so that Jessica could lift it out of the hole. Too long when they knew those Hounds had been a sign of more to come. But Jessica had the box now, and they were preparing for departure. With relief, Des watched her climb into the back of one of the vans, the box in her lap.

  He stood outside the door, keeping an eye on how the team’s progress was coming. He was beyond edgy; he was ready to leave this place in the past. As tempting as it was to take Jessica and the box ahead of the group, he wanted every layer of protection in place and that meant traveling as a group rather than splitting up.

  “Once we get the communications lines back up, can Marisol take the box back to the ranch?” Jessica asked. “It makes me nervous having it out in the open like this. Or…er…is Marisol all dark side and stuff, too?”

  “I don’t know Marisol’s history, but it’s a damn good idea. It makes me nervous, too. We’ll have to drive it out of this canyon, though, to get phone reception.”

  A warning filled the air. “Incoming!”

  Terror squeezed Des’s heart. Fighting the Beasts was second nature. Fighting them with Jessica in the middle of the battle was not. The ironic nature of a battle at this location, with her present, didn’t escape him, either. It struck fear in his heart. Fear for her.

  “Do not leave this van,” Des said, hands going to her waist, and he set her inside. “I mean it. Whatever happens. Stay here. I’ll be close.”

  “Des—”

  He didn’t let her finish. He slammed the door shut, and she scrambled to the window. Des had drawn two swords just in time. A Hound charged at him. He sidestepped and took its head, relieved when it turned to ash.

  His gaze swept the surrounding area, his men all in combat with the Hounds. But the yell had warned of Beasts. Where the hell were they? Another Hound came at him—no, two. Des rammed one in the heart and pivoted around to take the other’s head. The one he’d stabbed was back already, lunging at Des. It managed to latch onto his arm. Pain splintered up to his shoulder as the Hound rolled and took Des with him.

  Max came to the rescue, planting a blade deep between the animal’s ribs. The jaws snapped open and Des was freed. Max finished it off. Des gave Max a quick nod of thanks about a second before a group of Beasts and Hounds charged through the bushes.

  “Son of a bitch,” Max said, and Des knew why he was cursing. He had damn good reason. There were at least fifteen Beasts and another five or more Hounds coming at them.

  From inside the van, Jessica watched in horror as the Knights battled one Beast after another and not without injury. She’d never felt so helpless. She wanted to fight, to be of use, but she knew she couldn’t. Knew she was no match for these creatures. But she also couldn’t stop watching. The idea of Des being hurt, or worse, killed, struck terror in her. Not to mention her concern for the other Knights, all of whom had started to take on big-brother roles in her mind.

  The sound of the front door opening had her pivoting to see who was present. Black Dog was in the van and he had started the engine. “Hello, Jessica.”

  Her heart kicked into double-time, and she lunged for the back door. The doors flew open before she could exit, one of Black Dog’s men showing himself. He held a gun on Jessica, and with that weapon, he stole her opportunity for escape. The van was moving with Jessica and the box inside.

  And there was nothing she could do about it.

  Des saw the van take off, fear for Jessica turning to pure fury that he unleashed on the Beast he battled. He sliced through its neck and surveyed his travel options. Too many battles were going on around him to risk trying to get to a vehicle.

  He sheathed his swords and started running, faster than he had ever run in his life. When that wasn’t fast enough, he ran even harder. Faster. He felt the van pulling away from him, stealing Jessica beyond his reach. His heart pounded in his temples; his muscles strained. Still, he ran. Still, he hung on to the visual of that van.

  The sound of a motorcycle didn’t register at first. But as it grew louder, Des knew who it was. He turned to find Max approaching on the “rice burner” he kept in the back of one of the vans. Des had bitched about that bike taking up needed space. Now he was damn thankful for both it and Max. When the bike was level with Des’s position, he hopped on the back. Max turned on the speed, pushing the bike to its limit. And Des prayed it was fast enough.

  Chapter 21

  Black Dog shoved Jessica to the ground in the center of their camp. She landed on the box, a jewel slicing through her side. Obviously they only cared about the list inside. Jessica hated the idea of damaging that box more than she did the pain from her injury. Beside her a woman cried, her knees pulled to her chest. Apparently, she, too, had been abducted.

  To the girl’s left was Greg. Since he was sitting with Jessica and this girl, he’d clearly become prisoner in his own camp. Served him right. Jessica could barely stand the sight of him. “What kind of person does what you’ve done?” she demanded of him. “And it got you nowhere but in trouble.”

  “Don’t push me,” Greg said snidely. “I’ve had enough of you to last a lifetime.”

  Jessica set the box between herself and the girl, as her stomach rolled. The presence of evil, thick and pungent, was everywhere. It damn near consumed her. Evil that seemed to expand as a Beast approached and stopped directly in front of them.

  “This must be Jessica,” he said, smiling. He was in human form, but it did nothing to disguise his nastiness. “I’m Segundo. But you can call me Master.”

  Black Dog approached again, her mother’s diaries in his hand. He tossed them at Segundo’s feet. “Just as I expected. That’s the research. They were in the van with her.”

  Jessica would have objected, but she never had time.

  “Excellent,” Segundo said. Then, without warning, he pivoted and pulled a sword. With one sharp slice, Black Dog became ash. Two guards transformed into Hounds and Jessica, like the other girl, gasped as they hugged each other. The two Hounds charged at Segundo with vicious snarls. The fight lasted only seconds. Segundo killed the Hounds with ease, as if he were playing a game, not fighting ferocious animals.

  He faced the three prisoners. “Who’s next?”

  Greg didn’t wait to see if it was him. Suddenly, he was behind Jessica and the other girl, a knife in his hand. He held the blade between their faces, positioned to turn on either of them.

  “We had a deal, Segundo,” he said, his voice shaking despite his bravado. “I want my immortality. You want this box. So this is what is going to happen. I’m going to get into that van and drive away. Otherwise, I kill the women and your chance at getting inside that box. Push me and I’ll touch the damn thing and destroy it. In three days, I’ll leave a message for you at the Hotel Mexicano. Then, and only then, will I tell you how to get the box back.”

  To Jessica’s relief Des and Max chose that moment to charge the camp. They battled Beast and Hounds.

  Greg intended to take advantage of the distraction. He motioned for them to move. “Pick up the box and go, now!”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she sized up the situation. Des and Max had their hands full, and Segundo was Lord-only-knew where, waiting to challenge them. Jessica had to deal with Greg on her own. There was too much on the line to let him have the box. Too many lives that could be in danger.

  “Leave it on the ground and he can’t win,” she told the girl. “He can’t touch it himself.” She glared at Greg. “He’s evil. He’ll destroy it if he touches it.”

  Greg’s face turned
sour. “Pick up the box before you get us all killed.” He bent down and yelled in the girl’s face. “Do you want to die?”

  “No,” she whimpered. “No.”

  “Then pick it up!” Greg blasted back.

  The girl reached for the box, clearly too scared to say no. Jessica blocked out the fighting around her and focused on saving the box. At the same moment, Jessica and the other woman reached for it. Jessica managed to get a firm grip on the box, taking possession of it and pushing to her feet. Greg followed, to stand directly in front of her, a knife flashing in his hand a second before he thrust it at her. Jessica gasped as pain shot through the left side of her stomach—pain like nothing she had ever experienced in her life. Pain that consumed and suffocated her. Remotely, she was aware of what had happened, of being stabbed.

  Spots started to appear in front of her eyes, and she frantically searched for Des. She wanted to see him one more time before she died. Because she was dying. She knew she was.

  She dropped to her knees as he appeared in front of her. She could hear him saying her name, hear the panic. Didn’t want to leave him. “I’m sorry, Des,” she whispered, but wasn’t sure if she spoke the words in her head or out loud.

  A roar from Max permeated the fog; the pain somehow gave her a moment of clarity. She saw Max grab Greg. Saw Greg’s face distort with pain. But then the image was gone, replaced by the warmth of Des’s touch. Replaced by darkness.

  “Jessica!” Des screamed, agony lacing his voice.

  He was dying inside as he held Jessica in his arms, shaking so badly he could barely dial Marisol. Need Marisol, he thought. Need help. He would never forgive himself for not getting to Jessica in time. No. No. No! He refused to believe he wasn’t in time. She had to be okay.

  He looked to Max for help but the Knight was on his knees next to Greg, rocking back and forth. He’d totally lost it. “I killed a human,” he whispered over and over.

  Des tried the cell again but it was worthless. No signal. He’d never felt so helpless in his life. Des stood up with Jessica in his arms, her limp body and pale skin downright terrifying him. Blood poured from her wound. If she died, he was going to die with her. He had to get out of this area, to a place he could call Marisol.

  Max was the only hope Des had of assistance. “Max!” he yelled. “Max.” Nothing. The Knight just kept rocking, kept murmuring. Des yelled again. “Screw that evil bastard, man. He stabbed my woman. Look at her. Look at Jessica. Help me, man. Snap out of it and help me.”

  Max’s gaze lifted but the expression in his eyes was absent, checked out. Damn it! Des started running toward the vehicle. How he would drive and tend her wound at the same time, he didn’t know. Then out of nowhere, Max appeared by his side and Des said a silent thank-you.

  By the time Des got Jessica into the back of the van, Max had jammed the engine into gear. Tugging his shirt over his head, Des used it to cover her gaping cut and attempted to stop the bleeding. Max dialed his phone over and over, driving like a bat out of hell, hitting the bumps with the force only speed could deliver.

  But somehow it wasn’t fast enough. He couldn’t do anything fast enough.

  Emotions raging wildly, Des pulled Jessica close and touched her face. So cold. He leaned down, ear to her mouth, checking her breathing. His chest damn near exploded as he waited for the barely perceptible trickle of breath. “God. She’s barely breathing.” He inhaled a breath and tried to calm himself, tried to think. He leaned over her, his body draping hers, and prayed. He prayed as he’d never done in his life. With all his heart and soul, the man, the human, begged for forgiveness for the past and asked for Jessica’s life.

  Suddenly, Max slammed the van into park, jerking the vehicle with an abrupt stop. A second later, he was in the back of the cab, jacking Des against the wall. “What the f—”

  Max tightened his grip on Des’s arms, his strength in some sort of superhero mode, because Des couldn’t budge him. “Listen up, man, and listen good,” Max said. “There were Knights before the ranch. Good men who lost themselves to the darkness. I know because I watched it happen. I know because I’m barely hanging on. Save Jessica and yourself. Claim her and do it now.”

  Max let go of Des with as little warning as he had grabbed him, and Des fell forward onto his knees. By the time he hit the floor, Max had already climbed back into the driver’s seat and had them moving again.

  Des didn’t have time to question; he simply acted. He pulled Jessica into his arms and shoved her shirt off her shoulder. “Are you sure it’ll work like this?” Des said, concerned for her safety. He’d assumed they needed to be making love.

  “Just do it!” Max screamed.

  Right. Just do it. Des inhaled and reached deep, calling for the Beast he’d spent days trying to suppress. His teeth had elongated only twice in his immortal life, both times in bed with Jessica. He prayed he could bring them forward. Inhaling again, he took in her scent, the soft womanly scent so familiar, so Jessica. And he imagined claiming her, making her his mate.

  Amazingly, he felt the sensation of his teeth changing, and he wasted no time planting them into her shoulder. Her blood touched his tongue like sweet honey, and he drew it within him, cradling her like a baby, willing her to return to him. There was no Beast in his mind, only a man pleading for his woman’s return.

  How he knew when to withdraw, when to stop, he didn’t know. He simply did. The instant he pulled his teeth out of her shoulder, the wounds began to heal. As he watched, a star began to appear.

  “Jessica,” he whispered. “Talk to me, mi amor. Please.”

  “It’s ringing!” Max yelled, holding up the phone. Then he said, “We need you now.”

  Marisol appeared in the van, her concerned gaze settling on Jessica. She quickly knelt down and touched Jessica’s arm. Her hand extended to Des. “Come, Des. We will save her together.”

  They shimmered out of the van.

  Segundo stood on the outside of the camp watching as a group of Knights charged the site. The one called “Rock” rescued the school teacher and used her to retrieve the box. Segundo didn’t see a point in joining the battle. Not now. Not with his plans destroyed.

  He didn’t even turn around when Adrian materialized behind him. He knew what was next and he would depart this realm a soldier. Segundo dropped to his knees and waited for death, for the blade to slice his neck.

  Behind him Adrian laughed. “You think I will make it that easy on you, do you?”

  Segundo’s worst fears became reality with those words. A second later, he found himself flashed into a pit of snakes. A pit he would be in until Adrian had mercy on him. A pit he would be in for all eternity.

  Chapter 22

  Jessica’s lashes fluttered and lifted. She blinked into the sunlight, trying to find her bearings. Trying to remember anything through the heaviness of her limbs, the fog in her mind.

  Slowly, she eased into a sitting position, noting she wore her favorite burgundy pajamas, their familiar touch offering a sense of being grounded and safe. The room was small, with rich blues and bright white decor. When her eyes settled to the left of her, to the chair in the corner, she knew her pajamas had nothing to do with her feeling of safety. Des rested there, his eyes shut, his long legs stretched in front of him. He looked uncomfortable, his face shadowed, unshaven. But he also looked good. So damn good. The sight of him filled her with warmth, and instantly she knew that something had changed. She felt him inside and out. Felt him as if he were a part of her.

  “Des?”

  His eyes shot open and he was on his feet in a flash, rushing to her side, settling on the bed beside her. A second later, he pulled her close and kissed her. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  She smiled against his lips, her hands resting on his chest. “You can’t get rid of me, even if you tried.” Her lips brushed his again. “Though I don’t remember a darn thing right now. Where are we?”

  “The ranch I told you about.”

  Je
ssica reached for a memory of traveling there but had none. “Everything is fuzzy.”

  “Marisol said that might happen, but it’ll all come back to you. Some of it I wish you could forget. You went through quite an ordeal.”

  “I don’t like not knowing.” She stretched a little. “I feel all stiff and groggy.” She shoved the covers back. “I need to move around, I think. I want to remember.”

  “You will. All of this is expected. You’ve been asleep for two days.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Two days! Oh good grief. What happened to me?” A flash of memory, of a knife digging into her flesh, made her gasp. She grabbed for the pajama top and yanked it up, touching the entry point, but finding nothing. “What?” she murmured, mostly to herself. Her gaze fixed on that spot, her fingers sliding over the perfectly smooth skin. “I…” She looked at Des. “Was I stabbed?”

  “You almost bled to death,” he said softly, his gaze turbulent. “Scared the hell out of me.”

  She shook her head. “But there’s not a wound.”

  “No.” He pushed off the bed and held out his hand. “I need to show you something.”

  She slid her palm against his, eager for anything that meant an answer, willing to go wherever Des led at this point. Already, she felt tension building, the “not knowing” what happened to her freaking her out. She didn’t function well in a fog.

  She found herself in a small bathroom, positioned so that her back was facing the mirror. Des’s fingers brushed the buttons of her silk top, their eyes locking. Intimacy burned between them, sensual yet not sexual.

  Once the two buttons were free, Des inched her sleeve off her shoulder. Then he reached behind her and retrieved a hand mirror. He held it in front of her. She accepted it, looking at the image behind her. She gasped at the sight of a beautiful five-pointed star on her shoulder, much like a tattoo.