Adrian stared at the beast, seconds passing, the air thick and hot, with his scrutiny. “As if you could kill Jag,” he said, laughter in his voice. Then, abruptly he turned on his heels, rotating to face Segundo. “I expect nothing less than perfection.”
The words seemed to lift in the air and linger. As though summoned, with a flash of light another man appeared, the air filling with a scent of some spice or incense that flared Segundo’s nostrils.
“Salvador,” Adrian said, his voice a low, half-growl. His beast surfaced almost instantly, turning his face animal-like.
Segundo had heard of Salvador, the equal to Adrian in power, but not skill—or so Adrian claimed—on the other side of the war. But he’d never seen the man and often wondered at his true existence. The green-eyed warrior, as myth called him, had never shown himself before.
Why now?
A thought came hard and fast. There would be no time better than this one, Segundo realized, to earn his rightful respect with Adrian. Taking down Salvador would be his ticket to trust.
He motioned to the two beasts to attack. Instantly they charged, half of each of their faces contorting to beastly images, fangs extending.
Salvador balled up his fists, extended his arms toward the two attackers, then gestured his fingers at the two beasts. And just like that, both were frozen, unmoving, as if turned to statues.
Segundo could barely believe his eyes. He blinked and refocused. Still, his beasts were completely, utterly still. Suddenly he realized Salvador wore no weapons. No armor. Black jeans. Black shirt. No place for hidden artillery.
And it appeared he didn’t need any. He’d stopped Segundo’s beasts with a wave of his hands.
Salvador had launched himself into the center of enemy troops and he had done so unarmed. Unafraid. There were at least thirty beasts within a mile, yet Salvador seemed to be fearless, even at ease.
“I see you didn’t warn this newest second of my powers,” Salvador commented.
“Why would I?” Adrian challenged.
“Or rather, why wouldn’t you?” Salvador asked, a smile on his lips. “Perhaps you fear what weaknesses my power exposes in you, Adrian.”
Salvador turned to Segundo and held out his palm. “Show your beast,” he ordered.
To his dismay, Segundo felt his control slip away. His face contorted without his conscious decision to allow it, his heart kicking with the rush of adrenaline it caused. With his beast coming to life in physical form.
“That’s better,” Salvador said to Segundo. “Don’t you wonder why Adrian is showing his beast? We both know he’s too arrogant to be in such primal form. So why now, in my presence, did he change?”
Segundo’s mind raced with the implications of that question. Salvador was right: Adrian never exposed his beast.
Salvador continued as if he didn’t expect a response. “While in my presence, I demand you show your true self.” He eyed Adrian. “Your ‘Master’ didn’t want me to force his to surface. That would have shown you the power I have over him.”
In a flash of movement, Adrian disappeared and reappeared in front of Salvador. He snarled. “You have no business here, Salvador.”
“You’re about to attack my Knights,” Salvador commented, appearing more amused than threatened. “I’d call that my business.”
“And you can’t interfere,” Adrian said, jaw tight, fangs exposed.
Salvador flashed out of sight and reappeared beside one of the frozen beasts, a saber sword suddenly at its throat. “Ask your ‘Master’ why I don’t kill ‘it’ right now.”
Adrian turned to face Salvador. “Because you’re a pussy who hides behind rules.”
“Rules you are bound to, as well,” Salvador reminded him. “If you don’t…we both know what happens.”
In a blink of an eye, the sword disappeared and Salvador stepped to the side of the frozen beast. He leaned on its broad shoulder as if it were a wall, crossing his arms in front of his chest and then one booted foot over the other.
“You go to a hell even the mightiest of beasts would beg mercy from,” Salvador said, and then fixed Segundo in a green-eyed stare that suddenly seemed to glow and go all white. Segundo felt a crushing feeling in his chest, and then the oddest feeling of having his soul ripped from inside.
The sensation crawled inside him and traveled to the exterior, his skin tingling and itchy.
Which was freaking insane. He had long ago given up his soul.
“The powers of good allow evil to exist on this plain of existence because it serves a purpose. True good must come from free will. But there are rules to this allowance. Rules that even your ‘Master’ cannot break. The one you will enjoy the most, ‘Segundo,’ is the one that makes you so necessary. See—” he raised a finger “—higher or lower beings not born of this realm cannot raise a hand in battle. Your boss, Segundo, cannot join you in battle.”
A fireball shot through the air and straight at Salvador’s chest. A flash of movement and Salvador caught it. An instant later it dissolved.
“Temper, temper,” Salvador said to Adrian. “Shooting fire through the night tends to take away the advantage of surprise. Maybe you should just call Jag on the phone and announce your presence.”
“What,” Adrian said, fists balled at his sides, hair wild around his distorted face, “do you want?”
“I simply wanted the latest ‘Segundo’ to know the rules,” Salvador stated, no hesitation. “Now he does. You can’t win your war without him.”
Adrian drew his swords. “You want a fight, Salvador. Fight.”
Salvador pushed off the frozen beast but made no attempt to arm himself. He held his hands out to his side. “If we fight, it will replace tonight’s battle.”
“Don’t hide behind your Knights. If you believe them so strong, let my Darklands face them. Our fight is our fight alone.”
“That is the deal, Adrian.” He walked toward him. “Take it or leave it.” Salvador stopped almost toe-to-toe with Adrian, and with a flash, swords appeared in his hands. “What’s it going to be?”
Segundo could hardly breathe, the air filled with such electricity, such power. The implications of the moment, and of the information he had learned, were packed within the thickness surrounding them. Adrian growled low in his throat and then threw his swords in the air. They disappeared as if gobbled up by the darkness above.
Salvador gave a tiny bow of his head. “And so it is decided. The battle will not be ours on this night.”
“Not this one, but soon,” Adrian replied.
“I welcome the challenge,” Salvador said, and then he was gone.
The two frozen beasts came to life as if they’d lost no time, charging at the empty space that had once held Salvador.
Segundo turned his attention to Adrian, showing no signs of what he’d learned. He needed time to process. To consider what this meant for him. He’d been given the gift of knowledge, delivered by the enemy.
How to use it was the question. One, Segundo would soon figure out.
A second later, a dart of pain flashed in his chest, a fire shot from Adrian’s hand. “You are not beast enough to touch me, Segundo. Test me, even in your mind, and next you’ll be ash.”
Segundo drew a shaky breath, realizing that he was trapped. The truth had been spoken; he wasn’t beast enough to defeat Adrian. He repeated that fact over and over, fearful Adrian would hear if he allowed another and do as promised and turn him to ash.
He was now more determined than ever to defeat Jag, to earn back the good graces with his almighty leader…Adrian.
Chapter 13
Jag brought Diablo to a halt in the far north region of the ranch, miles away from the main house.
Reaching forward, he stroked the horse’s mane, murmuring his appreciation. He’d ridden him far too hard and long, driven by desperation to put distance between himself and everyone else. Needing space to think and to pull himself together. Karen had been there only a day, yet she?
??d had a profound impact on him. Something had changed inside of him and he didn’t understand what.
The beast within was clawing at him, scratching its way to the surface. No matter how hard he tried to deny its presence, to drive it away, it lived. It breathed.
Though his Knights understood these feelings, they expected their leader to be the strong one, the one who overcame the beast and showed them how to, as well. Yet each day he battled, it seemed to become harder.
Jag’s jaw tightened, one hand holding the reins with a vise grip as he fought the urge to yell. Why he fought it, he didn’t know. Something inside silenced his need to let out his rage toward the darkness of his feelings. Something told him to keep his presence here as unobtrusive as he could.
In that moment, if only for that split second, had he possessed the power to summon Salvador, he would have. He needed answers. If his destiny was to be swallowed by darkness, he wanted to know and he wanted to know now.
And that’s why he’d come out here, away from everyone. Away from temptation, where he wouldn’t do something he might regret. Away from Karen.
He leaned back, resting his gloved hands on the horn of the saddle, and felt a sudden uneasiness beyond his own troubled thoughts. His eyes narrowed, scanning the darkness. He took in his surroundings with newfound interest, and noticed the wind, or rather the lack of wind.
Inhaling through his nose, he used his keen sense of smell to search for the enemy, but found no scent of a beast. Yet…with the wind so tame, how close would the Darklands get before he would know?
Beneath him, Diablo grew restless, letting out two irritable snorts. “Shh,” Jag whispered, patting the animal’s neck and then rubbing. “You feel it, too, don’t ya, boy?”
Still running his hand over Diablo, calming him, Jag scanned the area, and then inhaled again. And he found it—the hint of a scent. A tiny little whiff of Darkland Beast.
Never before had the Ranch been attacked, but tonight that would change. Jag had no doubt.
Grabbing Diablo’s reins, Jag nudged the horse with his heels, and reached for the cell phone that doubled as a radio on his belt. “Des.” Nothing. “Des,” Jag said louder.
A small sound and then, “I’m here, boss. What’s up?”
Relief at the contact, at knowing he was getting the warning out to his men, washed over Jag even as the fast pace of Diablo beneath him offered further comfort.
“Sound the alarm,” Jag ordered, his tone curt, “and lock down the house. I’ll be there in five.”
One second. Two. Though brief the silence spoke volumes. Des was as surprised at the attack on the ranch as Jag had been.
“Copy that,” Des said.
Jag shoved his phone back on his belt hoop, taking the reins with both hands, and urging Diablo into a faster pace. Any second now, silent blinking red lights would go off inside every structure on the property. Some of his Knights would fight for the first time ever. Many weren’t ready for this kind of challenge.
“Damn it,” Jag murmured, feeling the wind lift around him. Knowing the beasts knew he’d discovered them and no longer masked their presence.
They were here for Karen and Eva. Every fiber of his being said so. The question was why?
Showered and dressed in a clean pair of light blue Levi’s, a red T-shirt with a hotel logo on it she’d gotten from one of her many trips, and a pair of red Keds, Karen felt a bit less exhausted. Of course, the two hours she’d slept in the chair beside Eva’s bed had helped, too, as had the sandwich Marisol had forced her to eat after noting her mac and cheese had gone mostly untouched. Not an easy task when her stomach was in knots and not just over worry for Eva. She’d emerged from rest with clarity in her mind over Jag. With a strong sense that her flashback to that day of them together had been just that, a flashback.
She hadn’t let herself digest the implications. Somehow it felt too scary and intimidating to delve deeper. She needed a little time to process. To make sure she wasn’t losing her mind.
Grabbing her cell phone, Karen plugged it into the charger she’d dug out of her bag. She was about to start for the door when a flashing red light came to life just above the frame.
Stiffening, Karen prepared for the loud noise to follow but it didn’t come. But then, it didn’t have to. The flashing light said plenty. Either there was a fire, or worse. Either way, trouble had arrived.
“Eva,” Karen whispered, and took off for the door.
Flinging it open, Karen stepped into the hallway to find Des in her path. Red lights flashed from the ceiling, casting him in a glow as he peered at her, a strand of dark hair concealing his expression from her view. She did a quick once-over of Des and knew trouble had definitely come calling. A long saber sword hung on each of his hips, and knives were strapped to his sides.
She took in the sight and its meaning with surprising calm. True, her heart beat at triple-time and her blood felt like fire in her veins. Maybe, because she knew the truth already. The silent alarm wasn’t about a fire. It was about war.
Expectantly she watched the agile, almost predatory way, Des’s big body moved as he flipped open a light switch and hit a previously hidden button. This wasn’t the same, playful guy she’d met in the kitchen. He’d been buried and replaced with this one…and instinctively Karen knew that this one was downright lethal.
Her attention went to the picture on the wall as it slid to the side and exposed a cabinet. Des stepped forward and hit another button on the steel surface. A door opened, revealing an arsenal of weapons, mostly swords.
“The beasts are coming,” Des said, as if confirming her thoughts, sliding a shoulder holster into place and pulling it tight to his muscular frame. “When you hear the alarm sound you’ll know they’ve crossed the inner parimeters of the ranch.” He retrieved a handgun from the cabinet. “Do you know how to fire a gun?”
“I do,” Karen said, relieved that her voice came out halfway steady. She closed the distance between herself and Des, more than willing to accept the weapon. Helpless was something she’d didn’t ever want to be. Not while traveling. Especially not now. Not with her sister’s life on the line.
With a quick slide of his hand, Des loaded an ammo cartridge into the weapon, and then fixed Karen in a stare as hard as the steel in his hand.
He offered her the weapon. “This is a Glock 36/45 mm. You’ve got a six-round magazine and one bullet in the chamber.”
Karen accepted the gun, feeling comfort in its heaviness in her hand. “And enough kick to be considered a handheld cannon,” she added as she reached inside the cabinet, grabbed another magazine and shoved it in her waistband.
“Why aren’t you carrying a gun?” she asked, noting the absence of one on his person. In fact, there was only one other in the cabinet.
Des cut her a quick glance, ignoring her question as he back stepped and then hit the button to ease the picture back into place.
“Shoot at their heads,” he said. “Anywhere else will be wasted ammo.”
Her eyes went wide with disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? Because this gun is gonna knock me on my ass just getting a shot off.” She frowned, realizing he hadn’t answered her question about why he didn’t pack a gun or two, or maybe even three, himself. “What exactly are we dealing with here?”
“That’s what we’d like to know, Karen.” The voice came from the stairs as Rock appeared and walked toward them, his short hair making the hard look on his face somehow more intense. “What are we dealing with?” he demanded. “Why do the Darkland Beasts want you and your sister so damn badly?”
Like Des, Karen noted, Rock was armed to the hilt, a walking arsenal of silver. Knives clung to his thick thighs, blades to his waist and body, but he carried not one single gun.
“Not now, Rock,” Des said, authority in his words, a reprimand in the harsh look he shot at the other man before refocusing on Karen. “Just do as I said. Fire at their heads.”
“Even then they won’t die,” R
ock said, stopping a few steps from her, accusation in his words. “Beasts don’t die.”
“Not easily,” Des corrected.
Rock was fixated on Karen, ignoring Des. “We have new recruits who aren’t ready for this. Men who will die this night. Men who will die because of you and your sister.”
“Shut up, Rock,” Des said, his voice a sharp slice of warning.
Marisol appeared in the bedroom doorway, a gun in her hand. The Healer motioned her forward, the sight of another firearm immensely comforting to Karen for some unknown reason.
“Come, Karen,” Marisol urged. “Hurry.”
“Oh, no,” Rock said, intercepting Marisol with the speed of a panther intercepting its prey, his hand shackling Marisol’s arm. “Think again. You’re getting the hell away from her and her sister.”
Marisol tried to jerk away from him to no avail. “Let go, Rock. I have a job to do and so do you.”
Karen felt a rush of nausea at the interaction. She’d already surmised Rock had a thing for Marisol. Now, it was clear he felt protective of her, and saw Karen as the enemy. She didn’t want people to die because of her.
“I’ll stay with Eva,” Karen said. “Marisol, please go. Be safe. Let Rock protect you.”
Rock gave an agreeable nod and started walking, Marisol in tow. Marisol’s face flashed with anger. Suddenly she shimmered. Lights flashing around her body and she disappeared.
Rock cursed.
Karen blinked. She blinked again. What next? What other powers did these people possess?
Marisol reappeared next to Karen, making her jump. “What…just happened?” Karen asked, trying to understand this new world she had become a part of.
Marisol ignored the question, which seemed to be this group’s avoidance method. “We’re going to watch over Eva together,” she said, and then eyed Rock. “I can take care of myself. Protect the ranch. Protect the cause.” She motioned Karen toward the bedroom. “Go now. We don’t have much time.”