Alexis smiled at Jag. “Yes. Partners.” She’d agreed to an investment in the ranch which would allow horse breeding to become part of their operation. Ryder would stay and train Rick to run the operation. New staff would be hired with the experience needed. The ranch was saved. And Ryder was staying.

  Jag released her hand and shook Ryder’s. “Be safe, my man. Help will arrive soon.”

  “Thank you,” Ryder said softly.

  Jag smiled at Alexis. “Peace, Alexis,” he said without any further explanation. And then he simply disappeared.

  Alexis shook her head and turned to Ryder. “It’s going to take a while to get used to that.”

  Ryder slid his hand around hers, gently leading her inside the house. “It does us all.” Once they were inside her picked her up.

  Alexis gasped. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to bed.”

  She laughed. “I’m not sleepy.”

  “Neither am I,” he said, casting her a heated look.

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” she whispered, suddenly warm all over.

  He stood in the hallway. “Upstairs or down?”

  “Up,” she said. “No more hiding downstairs.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” he said, approval lacing his tone.

  Ryder carried her up the stairs and laid her on the bed, coming down with her, his big body a warm shelter above hers. “I know,” she whispered before he could kiss her lips. “I know about the mating process. Marisol told me.”

  He pulled back, turbulence in his eyes a moment before he squeezed them closed. “I didn’t want her to tell you.”

  Her hand touched his face. “Why?” she asked, confused by the emotions in him. “Why would you not want me to know?”

  “Because I know your big heart. You will save me because of a sense of destiny and obligation. Because I’m one of the good guys, and you saw those Demons. You know what is out there, what I face, what I could become.” His voice turned raspy, intense. “I don’t want obligation. I want you. You, Alexis. A woman who chooses me as her mate.”

  Her heart tightened, warmed. Any fear of speaking her mind was gone. It hurt her to know she’d created such doubt in him. That her need to protect herself had obviously caused him such torment. “I love you, Ryder. I love you. I should have told you what I felt. I should have said, no, no it’s not okay that you leave. Not now. Not ever. I love you. I’m not saving you. You saved me. You were what I was missing.”

  “I want to believe that. I want to—“

  She kissed him. Pressed her mouth to his and tried to tell him she loved him in yet another way. “Make me yours forever,” she whispered against his lips. “Save me. Let me save you.”

  He pulled back, searched her face. “You’re sure?” She nodded. “Absolutely.” She smiled a bit nervously, thinking about the mating process Marisol had described as erotic. “You have to bite me, right? On the shoulder?”

  “Yes,” he said. “While we make love.”

  Alexis wrapped her arms around his neck. “What are you waiting for?” she asked, teasing him. “I don’t have all day.”

  He didn’t wait any longer, his mouth claiming hers. Passion-filled kisses followed, gentle caresses, tender stares. Soon they were naked, intimately entwined. Ryder sat with his back against the headboard, Alexis on top of him. They were kissing, swaying together in a slow erotic rhythm. Desire began to change from smoldering heat to overwhelming demand. Alexis could feel the need in Ryder, in herself. Feel the moment approaching when life would change forever.

  He pulled back, looked at her, his eyes dark, swirling with a yellowish hue of Beast and man. “You’re sure?” he whispered.

  “Absolutely,” she said, wanting this, wanting him more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.

  Ryder buried his face in her neck, and she felt his teeth sink into her shoulder. Alexis stiffened with shock a moment before pleasure soared through her limbs. Everything inside her warmed, filled, felt complete. She smiled to herself, filled with happiness, and the promise of an eternity of tomorrows to come.

  Beast of Darkness

  By Lisa Renee Jones

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  He’d broken a rule and now he would pay a price. It was as simple as that. Max had taken the life of a human. His reasons didn’t matter.

  Pulling his Harley to a halt in front of Jaguar Ranch’s west-end training studio, he killed the engine, prepared to face the consequences of his actions. His gaze lifted beyond the wooded terrain, taking in the barely visible main house. To its right was a cluster of extra housing where the Knights in training lived. This was home to The Knights of White. And for a short time he had felt he might finally have found his place here, as well. But he’d been wrong.

  Dismounting his bike, Max sauntered toward the studio entrance, boots scraping the dirt-and-gravel path, apprehension working him inside out.

  He took some comfort in knowing his actions had saved a woman’s life—and not just any woman. He’d saved the mate of one of his fellow Knights. A mate who had healed the stain of the beast inside that Knight.

  But regardless of the reasons for his actions, he’d broken a sacred vow by taking a human life. And for that, he would face consequences. Though Max knew this, even accepted it, he was no more at ease as he stepped inside the air-conditioned studio. He shut the door with a thud that was unintended, that screamed of finality. Of hard actions to come. But then, he didn’t expect leniency. Max knew how close to the darkness he walked. Four hundred years of battling the stain on his soul had worn him down.

  Max felt the lightly padded floor beneath his feet, barely noticing the weapons lining the walls, weapons that were used in the war against the demon Beasts they fought, the Darkland Beasts. The lights were off; meditation candles flickered in each of the room’s four corners.

  Max’s attention focused on the two men standing in the center of the room. He approached them, in awe of the dominating figures they both were, how similar in so many ways. Long, dark hair touched each of their shoulders, powerful bodies spoke of warriors, of Knights. But more than anything, an inner strength radiated from them both.

  Max offered Jag, the leader of The Knights of White, a nod. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt as Max himself was, Jag used his role as horse rancher to disguise his true role as demon hunter.

  Though Max was centuries older than Jag, Max respected him no less. For Jag had brought hope to the Knights—even to Max. Jag had been the first to find a mate, to prove that the right woman could tame the beast in all of them. And he’d replaced the leader Max had once known, a leader who’d turned to the darkness inside himself, who’d become a Beast, turning away from the Knights. A leader who had forced his men into hiding to avoid death by his swords.

  But Max’s attention didn’t linger on Jag. His gaze strayed to the man dressed all in white, standing beside him, to Salvador—the one who’d created him. The one who could end his existence with a mere wave of a hand.

  Max met the light green stare of his maker with directness. If he were to fall this day, he would do it bravely; he would do it with his head held high. And he felt the touch of those eyes as if they moved inside him, as if they reached to the depths of his soul. Perhaps they did. Perhaps that moment, that look, exposed the truth in him: that Max was
so near the darkness, he could almost taste evil with each breath he drew.

  Long seconds passed before Salvador spoke. “Leave us,” he said softly to Jag.

  Jag hesitated. “Without Max’s help, we would have lost Jessica. And without Jessica, I have no doubt Des would have succumbed to his inner beast.”

  Max’s chest tightened at the protective gesture from Jag, regret biting at his gut. He’d been alone so very long. Finally, he’d felt a sense of belonging at Jaguar Ranch, and now it was in jeopardy.

  But that realization didn’t change the facts. He had to live with what he had done. Max knew all too well that he couldn’t turn back time. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he widened his stance. “I’m prepared to face the consequences of my actions.”

  Jag stepped forward then, pausing to lay a hand on Max’s shoulder. “Peace be with you, my friend.” And with those words, he departed.

  Somehow, Max doubted peace would find him anytime soon. The heavy silence between Salvador and him certainly set his imagination to work, taunting him with the possible punishments he might face.

  The sound of the door shutting, of Jag’s exit, echoed in the room. Then, and only then, did Salvador speak. “You’ve been a Knight for how long?”

  Max supplied the answer they both already knew. “Three hundred and seventy-one years.”

  “You’ve faced much in that time. Made tough choices.”

  “Yes,” Max agreed.

  “Fought the darkness and won when others failed. Devoted yourself to protecting humanity.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yet you chose to take a human life.” It wasn’t a question. “Why?”

  Max squeezed his eyes shut. He’d dreaded this moment, hated what he had to admit. He forced his gaze to meet Salvador’s. “I remember the human charging at Jessica with a knife. I tried to save her, but I saw the blade go into her side. I grabbed him and…I don’t remember anything until he was on the ground. Dead.”

  Salvador studied him, his stare intense, potent. “So you have no idea why you killed him? Or even if it could have been avoided?”

  “No.” He shook his head, his throat dry. “But I cannot lie. I know I felt fury. And darkness. I was lost to what I felt.”

  Salvador raised his hand and a sword flew off the wall and into his hand. “On your knees, my son.”

  Max did as he was told without hesitation, his heart pounding wildly against his chest, his eyes cast to the ground in disgrace. He knew death by beheading would follow and he did not fear it. To take a Knight’s head was one of the only two ways to kill him. But he wanted the end to be quick. He wanted this to be over.

  “Choose now,” Salvador said, the blade touching Max’s shoulder. “Choose life…” Metal brushed the other shoulder. “Or choose death.”

  The words shocked Max and his eyes lifted to Salvador. He could barely conceive of what he was hearing. Was he being given another chance? “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s a simple question,” Salvador proclaimed. “Life…or death?”

  Indeed, it was a simple question. Max didn’t want to fail the Knights, to fail his duty. And death meant failure. “Life. I choose life.”

  “You are certain?” The blade swung upward, above Salvador’s shoulder, before slicing through the air. It drew to a halt a whisper from Max’s neck. “One sharp movement and you can find the darkness you claim to embrace.”

  “Life,” Max whispered. Though he tried to yell, his voice simply wouldn’t come out. “I choose life.”

  Salvador pulled the blade away from Max’s neck and tossed it in the air. It disappeared as if it had never existed. “To your feet, Knight.” Somehow Max obeyed, his knees weak. Once he was standing, Salvador stood toe to toe with him. “You will be sent to a place few know of, a place where you will face a great test. There you will need every gift your centuries of life have given you.”

  Max’s response was instant. “I will not fail.”

  “Make no mistake. This test will push you to your limits. It will force you to face your greatest fears. And you must face this test on your own, my son.” He held out his hand to Max. “But you will not face it alone. You are never alone.”

  Max understood. He knew the Knights were always there for him. He knew Salvador was, as well.

  He accepted his creator’s hand and repeated his prior words. “I will not fail.”

  Chapter 1

  Destination: Nowhere, Texas. A town with a strange name and no location on the map. Now, that little Nowhere town had managed to scare up stories of real supernatural troubles. Or so the town sheriff seemed to believe, which was exactly why Sarah Meyers and her team were headed that direction. They investigated the paranormal events, the unexplainable and often scary things most thought to be fiction.

  Sitting in the passenger seat of the van, Sarah eyed the flatland around them, not a sign of life in sight. She glanced at Edward, a research assistant and friend, who manned the steering wheel on most occasions. He was their driver and electronics expert. “They don’t call it Nowhere for nothing,” she commented.

  He grunted his agreement, which was about all Sarah expected from him. A big black man with the brains of a genius and the sense of humor of a rag doll, he didn’t waste words. When he chose to speak, his words either had real value, or they were meant to annoy Cathy, who rode in the backseat for that specific reason. The two had a love-hate relationship, to say the least. At times, Sarah’s ability to mediate Edward and Cathy’s tiffs successfully felt like more of a gift than her ability to receive communications from spirits.

  “What is a five-letter word for a breakfast?” Cathy asked, her voice laced with an Alabama accent despite graduating from the University of Texas. Cathy had an affinity for magic and crossword puzzles. The magic part of that equation had turned her into their field expert.

  Edward flicked a look over his shoulder to offer a word choice. “Pizza.”

  Sarah smiled, not having to see Cathy to know she was rolling those big brown eyes, her brown bob bouncing around her head. Hunting spirits and demons who had nocturnal preferences demanded erratic hours, but it also bred a love of junk food—pizza being Sarah’s favorite anytime snack.

  Feeling a bit mischievous after the long hours trapped in the van, Sarah decided to aid Edward’s efforts to tease Cathy. “I have to agree with Edward on this one. Pizza is—” Her words cut off as pain splintered through her head. “Oh.” She moaned and grabbed her head, lacing her fingers through her long blond locks as she prayed the pain would ease.

  Suddenly she was in the middle of one of her visions, a spirit communicating with her by making her relive an experience from the past. She was inside an unfamiliar car, seeing through the eyes of the female driver. She reached for the dash, but in her mind, it was the steering wheel. She had become the spirit that was guiding her.

  Approaching an upcoming bridge, the rain pounding on the windshield, visibility near zero, she was nervous about the bad conditions, but the butterflies in her stomach were excitement not fear. Eagerness to get home, to celebrate her one-year wedding anniversary, dictated her mood. The special gift for her man waited in the backseat, adding an extra thrill. She couldn’t wait to see his face when he opened the big box.

  The radio screeched, a terrible sound that bit through her eardrums. She reached forward to turn it off, glancing down for only a moment, but it was a moment too long. Her heart lurched at the sight of an animal in the road—a big black dog of some sort. No. It was too big for a dog, but the rain made it hard to tell.

  She honked as she approached but it didn’t move; it didn’t even seem to hear the sound. And she was close now, unprepared for its stubborn stance. Her foot slammed down on the brakes, pumping them to no avail. The brakes gave her nothing, they wouldn’t work.

  Her stomach was in her chest as she jerked the wheel to the right to miss the animal, relieved when she didn’t make contact. But when she tried to right herself, the car was
going too fast. The front bumper hit the bridge’s edge with a jolt that shook her teeth. The second before everything went black, she called out to the one she loved. Allen!

  Sarah snapped back into reality with a gasp of air, yanking herself to a full sitting position to ensure she wasn’t in the water.

  “Easy, easy,” Edward said, grabbing her arm as if he were afraid she might need stabilizing.

  “Are you okay?” Cathy asked, concern in her voice. “I swear, I will never get used to this happening to you. It scares the hell out of me.”

  “I’m fine,” Sarah said, and she was. She had lived with these visions since her teen years just as her mother had before her, and hers before her.

  Reality slid slowly into place as Sarah noted they’d pulled over in front of the very bridge she’d had a vision of. She reached for the door and got out. Walking to the edge of the bridge, she noted the skid marks and shivered despite the hot summer day, hugging herself.

  Edward and Cathy appeared by her side, but they didn’t say anything. They’d been around long enough to know she needed to process and think. Sarah stood there for what could have been seconds, minutes, or much longer.

  When she finally turned away from the bridge, she spoke. “A woman was murdered on this bridge.”

  “How?” Cathy and Edward asked at once.

  “Black magic,” Sarah answered, knowing the impact the two words would have on her friends, knowing they understood the implications. If there was one thing the three of them knew, it was what kind of trouble the dark arts could bring. Thanks to the university’s support and plenty of grant money, they’d seen far too many bad things in their time together. Whatever was going on in Nowhere, Texas, had the kind of roots that festered into hell far too fast for comfort.

  Sarah and her team pulled to a stop in front of the two-story town inn, the one recommended by the sheriff when he’d requested her presence. In a small town of three thousand, the 1800s Victorian-style house was the closest thing to a motel they possessed.