“Your life—”
“Led me here, to you. So let’s find a way to solve this.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It never is.” She touched his jaw. “Have faith, Des.”
“Faith,” he said softly. “I think I left that on the battlefield about fifty years ago.”
“Then we’ll find it,” she whispered. “We’ll find it together.”
Two days after joining the Knights on the dig site, Des woke with a startled gasp. The days had been long, hot, without answers. The nights, for him, restless. He sat straight up, sucking in air, his hand going to his chest. His pulse was in overdrive, his body hot. Sweat gathered on his forehead.
“Des?”
Jessica’s soft voice raced over his frazzled nerves and started to calm him. She slept with him, a soft presence that both taunted him with what he could not have, while also offering comfort and hope. His chest expanded, and he let the air blow through his lips. He quickly took in his surroundings. Tent. Dig site. Jessica’s hand around his arm.
“What is it? Are you okay?”
He looked at her, touched her hand. “Fine. I…A nightmare.” That same damn dream about the day he’d become a Knight. About Arabella and the Beasts. About wanting to kill her father. God. He’d been vicious. Ready to murder another man. Why had Salvador saved him?
Jessica tugged lightly on his arm, and he let her ease him onto the air mattress beneath them. They slept together fully clothed, and Des had managed to keep his hands to himself.
She rested on one elbow, staring down at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”
And say what? That in his human life, he’d considered killing another man? That he’d been a slave who couldn’t take care of the woman he loved? “I can’t,” he said. “I just can’t, Jessica.”
Disappointment flared in her eyes. “All right, then.” Slowly, she lowered her body, her head resting on his shoulder.
Her touch, her presence calmed him. Her voice was like soothing salve on a wound. Dimly, he recognized that as hope. She got to the man on some level, or that wouldn’t be possible.
Jessica touched the arrowhead necklace around his neck. “You wear this all the time. Does this mean something special to you?”
Chingado. So much for calm. His heart crashed against his chest in heavy thuds. He swallowed. “It reminds me of my mother.”
She lifted back up on her elbow to look at him, her eyes lighting with interest. “Will you tell me about her?”
No. Yes. Damn it! Jag’s words rang in his ears. Let Jessica help you find the man again. He didn’t want to relive the past, yet somehow he knew it was part of finding his way to Jessica. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. So he blurted out the truth, told her of a time when he was human, before he’d become immortal. “My mother was a Native American slave. I was the bastard son of her master.”
Des sat up, grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, giving her his back. He couldn’t look at her. He just couldn’t. “I need to check on the team.” He still wore his jeans and boots in case a quick departure was needed. It was.
Three days into the dig, Jessica stomped up a hill to the shaded area where tables, equipment and supplies were kept under a tent. She grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and then stuck a second one in her cargo pants for later. In various pockets, she kept digging instruments, a trick she’d learned from her mother.
Max joined her, climbing the hill and taking a bottle of water for himself, having returned only a few minutes earlier from a scouting mission with Rock and his men. He’d ditched the leather coat he favored for a white T-shirt and jeans. He had a rough, hard edge to him, the kind that made a woman want to tame him. Not this woman, but others. But there was something else there, too. Something that made her a bit uneasy and she didn’t know why.
“You love this, don’t you?” Max asked.
She smiled. “Yeah. I forgot how much. Still, nowhere near as much as my mother did though. What’s the latest on Greg?”
He finished off half the bottle before responding. “Still nothing and we’ve covered ten miles in all directions.”
Jessica sat down on the ice chest, frowning. “Something is off. If I’m right about our location, and he has the real map, why isn’t he here?”
“You did say Solomon would likely code the map and the list. Maybe Greg can’t read it, and he’s chasing his tail.”
“Yeah, well,” she said, apprehension forming, “I’m starting to doubt myself. Maybe I’d better hit the books again.” She took another long swig of her water.
“You do that. We’ll keep diggin’. Besides, seems wrong to have an angel digging in dirt.”
Jessica just about choked on her drink. “I’m no angel. Besides, we don’t know for sure my ancestors are on that list. And even if I am, it’s just a name on paper.” She gave him a probing look, hoping to open up a little conversation about Des. “You Knights are the ones who face off with demons, Beasts, dogs, whatever they all are.”
He looked toward the horizon, acting as if he was inspecting the sky, but she could tell he was avoiding eye contact. “Sometimes, it takes a demon to kill a demon.”
“So it’s like that, is it?”
His gaze drifted her way. “What are you talking about?”
“Des thinks he’s all dark and demon-like too. Sounds like you feel the same way.”
He looked at her. Just looked. No blinking. No change of expression. Then, out of the blue, he asked, “Do you love him?”
The question took her off guard, and not because he asked it. The intensity of his words rattled her a bit. “Yes,” she said softly. “I love him.”
“Then believe him when he tells you there is something dark inside him. Because there is. Love him enough to believe in it but not fear it, and you might have a chance to save him.”
“Save him from what?”
Des stomped up the hill before Jessica could ask Max for more details, and she wanted to scream at him to go away for another minute or two. She wanted to save Des, but she didn’t know how or even what she was fighting against. Some abstract beast-inside thing was hard to battle.
“What’s cooking besides me?” Des asked, grabbing the bottle of water in Jessica’s pants rather than making her get up. His gaze narrowed as he eyed the two of them.
“Jessica was just telling me how we’re two of a kind,” Max said. “You know.” He pretzeled his fingers. “One with our Beast and all. I was telling her that’s not true. We’re not alike.” He dropped the empty bottle of water in the trash bag. “There’s still hope for you. I never had any.” Without another word, he turned and walked down the hill.
“Holy shit,” Des said. “What was that all about?”
Jessica watched Max depart, and for just a moment, she felt a flutter of unease in her stomach. A hint of evil coming off Max. A shiver washed over her despite the hundred-and-ten temperature.
Des kneeled down in front of her, one palm pressed to her forehead. “Are you sick?”
She shook her head but didn’t explain. For some reason she didn’t want to tell Des about Max. “The cold water mixed with the heat. It’s nothing.”
His palm moved to her cheek. “You’re sure?”
She grabbed his hand and kissed it, thinking how tender his actions. Des was not evil. If only he knew that. “I’m sure.” Jessica settled his hand in her lap. “Unfortunately, I’m not so sure we are at the right dig site.” She went on to explain her concerns.
When she’d finished, Des asked, “Where does that leave us?”
“I need to study the map and the diaries again.”
“Ah, mi amor, you’ve been over them so many times.”
A secret smile played in her mind. She loved when he forgot his fears enough to call her that. “I’m missing something,” she insisted. “I have to try and find out what.” She pushed to her feet and he followed. “I’m going to get started now. I hate for us to waste any more time here than
necessary.”
Jessica stood on her toes and kissed his cheek, pleased when he looked at her with surprise followed by warmth. She started toward the tent to do her research, satisfied she was getting through to Des on some level. That was something.
“Jessica, stop!” It was Des, and instinctively she did as he said. “Stay completely still.”
And then she heard it. The telltale rattle of a rattlesnake. Her heart sank to her stomach so fast she could have been at the top of a roller coaster going down. The snake was nowhere in sight, and though it defied everything she’d been taught, the intense desire to start running overtook her. The idea of being a sitting duck damn near unglued her.
She might well have broken into that run if Des hadn’t appeared in her peripheral vision and grabbed the snake, which was apparently right by her leg. Jessica screamed as the snake bit him once, then again on the hand, before he used a knife to slice it in half.
“Oh God, oh God, oh, God!” She rushed at Des. “You’re hurt! You need a doctor.”
“That snake can’t kill me but it could have you.” He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, his face in her hair as he drew in a deep breath. “Damn it, woman, you scared the hell out of me.”
“I’m fine, but—” Des swayed a bit, cutting off her words.
“You’re not fine!” She looked over her shoulder and screamed, “Help! I need help!”
Des sat down on the ground. “I’m fine. It’ll wear off.” He steadied a look filled with apprehension on her. “Do you have any idea the kind of fear I feel at the thought of you being hurt?” His lips thinned. “Especially by me.”
Jessica knelt beside him, noting the white coloring around his lips. “Help!”
Rinehart showed up, shoving his hat back on his head. “What the hell happened?”
“Snake,” she said, starting to panic. Des was getting paler by the minute. “He needs a doctor. Can we take him to the city?”
Des lay back, arm over his face. “Shit. Yeah. See if you can get Marisol. Damn snake is kicking my ass.” Rinehart flipped open his cell phone and dialed. Des peeked beneath his arm at Jessica. “Mi amor. I won’t die, woman. Immortal, remember?”
She tried to swallow that concept. “But it’s making you sick.”
A shimmering light, almost like glitter, filled the air and then a beautiful Hispanic woman appeared, dressed in a summer dress of white with a knee-length skirt.
She knelt next to Des and glanced at his injury. “You’re always finding trouble.”
Des lifted his arm off his face and his lashes fluttered, his voice weak now. “It finds me.”
“Hmmm. Don’t think I buy into that.” She glanced at Jessica. “I’m Marisol, the Knights’ Healer. You must be Jessica.”
“Yes,” she confirmed, a bit spellbound by the woman. She had this warmth radiating off her, almost like, well, goodness.
“He’ll be fine in a minute. Promise. Can you hold his arm up across your lap since he seems a bit out of it?” Marisol asked.
Jessica nodded and moved to lift Des’s arm. “I am going to hold my hand over his injury, and you’ll see a little light. Then presto—” she snapped her fingers “—he’ll be fine.”
When Jessica nodded her understanding, Marisol did as she described. Jessica marveled at the amazing sight of the light spilling into Des. She could see it climbing under his skin, neutralizing the snake’s venom.
When Marisol completed her task, she smiled. “All done.”
Des shook his head, as if he were trying to get rid of cobwebs, and then sat up. “Don’t know what we’d do without that beam of light of yours.”
“You know just the right thing to say to steal a girl’s heart, Des,” Marisol said, getting to her feet. “I’m going to say hello to everyone and then get out of here.”
Des winked. “You mean Rock.”
She gave him a warning look. “I mean everyone.”
Jessica read between the lines. Marisol and Rock had something going on. She also saw Marisol as a female who would be easy to talk to and maybe offer some answers. “Can I talk to you a minute?”
Marisol didn’t look surprised. “Of course.”
Jessica eyed Des, and then glanced at Marisol. “Give me a minute and I’ll catch up with you.”
With a nod, Marisol turned away and Jessica refocused on Des. He spoke before she could. “What’s that all about?”
“Sometimes a girl needs a girl to talk to.” She ran her hand over the place that had sported the bite marks, amazed that they had disappeared. “You’re okay now?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m fine.”
A thought had occurred to her in the midst of all of this that she really wanted Des to consider. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” But his expression said he was tense, nervous about what secret she might want revealed. His walls remained up, and formed of steel.
“When you saw that snake about to bite me, what did you feel?”
“What?”
“Were you afraid for me?” she asked.
“Freaking terrified.”
“Relieved when I was okay?”
“Beyond belief,” he confirmed. “Why are you asking these things?”
“Just answer,” she insisted. “Did you want to kill that snake?”
“Of course.”
“And you were happy when it was dead?”
His jaw tensed. “Yes.”
She leaned forward, pressed her palms to his cheeks and looked into his eyes. “How very human of you.” And then she kissed him and rose to her feet, not giving him time to respond.
After leaving Des, Jessica immediately searched for Marisol. She found her talking with Rock, and as she expected, the sparks between the two were obvious. Marisol was quick to break away, however, and give Jessica some private time.
They found a pair of folding chairs by some metal tables and sat down. “What troubles you, Jessica?”
“Several things, actually,” she said, rubbing her palms over her pants. “One is, well, Max. I think something is wrong with him. I thought maybe you could check him out before you leave.”
“I can’t heal what ails Max.”
“Which is what?”
“Give me your hand,” Marisol said.
Jessica did as she said. Marisol held her hand a moment, her lashes falling to her cheeks. When she opened her eyes again, she released Jessica’s hand, clearly having made some decision.
“You love him very much. You see this as your destiny.”
“Yes.”
“No hesitations? No regrets?”
“None. I can’t explain it, but I know I am where I am meant to be.”
Marisol smiled. “Because you are.” Those words hung in the air for a moment. “What I am about to tell you must be kept between us. You cannot tell Des or anyone else. Not yet.”
Jessica felt nervous about it, but agreed. “Of course.”
“Are you aware that Max is new to the Knights?”
“Yes,” she said. “Des has voiced a few concerns about not knowing his history.”
“That’s because Des doesn’t need to know his history. Not yet. Because you see, what ails Max is no different from what ails Des. They are both close to the darkness.”
“I keep hearing this talk of darkness. What exactly is this darkness, this Beast inside?”
“Their souls were touched by evil, toxic in all ways possible. The man must be pure enough to dilute that or he will not survive.”
This made no sense. “Why leave that Beast inside them at all? If the soul can be returned, can’t the Beast be extracted?”
“They would never have the ability to fight those demons if they were in human form. Besides, certain physical conversions took place when each was bitten by the Beast.”
Max’s words came back to her. Sometimes it takes a demon to kill a demon. “Are you telling me Des and Max are not strong enough to fight that darkness inside?”
/> “Make no mistake,” Marisol said. “Each of these men were picked because they are special. Each has more good in them than most will ever know. They are brave, courageous, full of willingness to fight for those they love.”
“But the darkness could take them over?”
“Yes. They could fall to the dark side. Once the soul is consumed, they return to beastly form and answer to the underworld.” She hesitated. “Max knows this well. Des does not. He feels it but he does not know it. We chose not to tell him for a reason.”
He deserved to know. “Why? Why would you not tell him?”
“Max comes from a group of fallen Knights. All succumbed, all but a select few, to the darkness. If Des knew this, then he might well decide his fall is inevitable and then he’d be lost.”
Nausea overtook her. “Is his fall inevitable?”
Marisol squeezed her hand. “He has you now, my dear. There were no mates to the Knights before. No hope. You are the pure-blooded mate who will defeat his darkness. But he must claim you. Once that happens, all Knights will have hope. They will see they can hang on until their mates are ready for them. I only wish those before them could have been saved.”
“Why not tell them when Jag found Karen?”
“So it felt real to them, not merely a mate given to their leader. Now, there will be two females, two Knights mated.”
“Des thinks he will feel some sort of bloodlust if he mates with me. That he might kill me.”
“It is true that the taste of human blood could destroy his soul, but you are his mate. To drink of you is the ultimate bonding of heart, body and soul. But man, not Beast, must control during the mating.”
“How do I make sure that’s the case?”
“I see love in his eyes when he looks at you,” Marisol said. “As long as that love guides the mating, you will both be fine.” Her expression turned serious. “But Des must face his past and forgive himself. He thinks he knows his purpose but he does not. He fights for vengeance, and because he thinks he is some sort of killing machine. He’s lost the reason that defines his existence, which is to protect humanity and defeat evil. He must stop seeing himself as a Beast.”
Jessica swallowed, nervously thinking of him biting her shoulder. “Or he might become one,” she whispered.