“I really think she should stay the night,” he said, his tone insistent.
Karen stiffened and firmed her voice. “Check her out.”
He sighed and studied her, seeming to contemplate saying more. Then, with a shake of his head, he turned away. Karen watched him disappear around a corner. The minute he was out of sight, she let her back settle against the wall, tilting her head to rest against the wall and shutting her eyes. A mixture of exhaustion and fear coursed through her body, making rational thought a difficult task.
What was she supposed to do now? Staying here wasn’t an option. They weren’t going to help Eva here. That left trying to reach a local doctor on call or a drive to another city to find a hospital. Times like these, she missed her parents more than ever. Her father, for his steady voice of reason. Her mother, for her calming comfort.
“Excuse me.”
The voice made Karen jump and push off the wall. A petite brunette wearing scrubs stood before her. “Sorry,” the woman said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay. I’m just a little jumpy.”
The woman visibly swallowed. “I wanted to talk to you about your sister.” She seemed to hesitate. “Only off the record.”
A fizzle of warning went off in Karen’s head. “Okay.”
Leaning in closer, the woman lowered her voice. “There is a doctor at Jaguar Ranch that handles things like this.”
Jaguar Ranch set off more than a fizzle of warning. It set off a full-fledged alarm. That was the place named in the monster myths. Of monster hunters, actually. The ones who killed the Matamoros Beasts.
Karen kept her expression indiscernible, but it took a heck of a lot of effort. “Like this? Meaning what?”
“There was another patient who had those marks. Her father was all freaked out. He disappeared for a few hours and then checked his daughter out. He said he was going to that ranch.”
Karen couldn’t believe she was entertaining this. Not that she was. Not really. “And what happened to the man’s daughter? Do you know?”
“I saw her the other day in town. She looked fine.” The woman exhaled. “Look,” she said, “I know this is a bit crazy, but the drive to the next closest hospital takes you right past Jaguar Ranch. It might be worth stopping and seeing what they say.”
Karen needed to think. This was all too much. It was overwhelming. “I’ll think about it. Thanks.”
The woman nodded and then patted Karen’s arm. “Please don’t tell the doctor I said anything.”
“I won’t.”
“Good luck,” she said, and turned and walked away.
Staring after her, Karen felt like she might be sick. Did she dare go to Jaguar Ranch? Eva was all she had left. She had to make the right choice.
And she had to do it now.
Chapter 4
She must be insane.
Nevertheless, an hour after leaving the hospital, Karen turned her rental car down the ranch road leading to Jaguar Ranch. The stories of Matamoros monsters had also come with tales of the men who hunted them. Those men lived and worked at Jaguar Ranch.
If Karen was to believe a monster had injured her sister—and Lord help her, but she did—then, she also had to have faith in the existence of the good guys who defeated the bad guys.
A glance at the clock in her car dash told Karen it was almost three o’clock in the morning. No wonder every muscle in her body ached. She’d been awake nearly twenty-four hours with no hope of rest anytime soon. Not until Eva was safe. She wasn’t losing Eva.
Blinking against the heaviness of her lids, she focused on maneuvering the car over gravel and bumps, hating her weakness when Eva needed her. Sleep wasn’t important.
On either side of the vehicle, wooded acreage enclosed the gravel path. The effect created a wall between her and the sky, shielding the moonlight from view and casting the car in an unnatural, deep darkness. The impact emphasized the secluded nature of the location, and Karen felt a shiver race up her spine. Perhaps a warning, but she pushed it away. Her gut said this was the right move, and she had to see it through. Besides, the ranch was on the way to the next town and closest hospital. It seemed worth a stop.
Karen could only hope.
A two-story house came into shadowy view, and Karen felt the flutter of butterflies in her stomach. Another few moments, and she found herself stopped in front of a huge gate, a clear message of deterrent. A hint of self-doubt invaded her resolve.
Karen couldn’t help but wonder if that gate protected those inside, or was it the opposite? Did it protect foolish people like her who dared to come here? Darkness enveloped her, making her surroundings difficult to decipher. Karen knew the property stretched over miles and miles, much of it heavily wooded.
She put the car in Park and stared at the house ahead, visible but still a pretty good distance away. What now? If she was going to do this, she needed to act. With a sigh, she glanced at her sister, who slept with her head against the window. Karen tucked a blanket around Eva and then expelled another breath. Reaching for the door, she did the only thing she could think to do. She decided to walk the rest of the way, leaving Eva safe—relatively—in the car.
She had to save her sister, and no matter how scared Karen suddenly felt of what lay beyond that gate, she was more afraid of what would happen to Eva if she didn’t find out. Every instinct she owned told her salvation lay ahead. She had to go through the gate to find it.
Jag dismounted his horse in the middle of a clearing and pulled off his gloves. Security monitors had alerted them to visitors. Beside him, Des, his most trusted Knight, did the same. Eyeing the car sitting in front of the gate, Jag noted the absence of a driver but he knew that car, that license plate. If they weren’t standing in the direct light of the moon, he might not believe his eyes. But it was true. She was here.
The woman from the airport, from his dreams, was actually here, somewhere.
Jag eyed Des to ensure they were on the same page. Des gave him a nod. He, too, recognized the rental car as belonging to the woman they’d followed several hours earlier.
“You never told me who she is,” Des commented, stepping to the front of his horse to stand beside Jag.
It was a question.
One Jag didn’t intend to answer.
He didn’t appreciate being pushed, and Des knew this well. Des also knew he was one of the few people who could get away with it. Jag kept his men in line. He had to. Their lives meant being prepared, being focused. Des had been with Jag nearly a century, though, and somewhere in that time, he’d slid past Jag’s walls.
But not this time. Not about this.
Jag cut Des a hard look meant to cut the prodding short. “I’ll let you know when I have something to tell.”
Des wasn’t detoured. “Chingado, Jag,” he said, cursing in Spanish, as he always did when frustrated. “Don’t treat me like a fledgling Knight. You knew enough to follow her.” He narrowed his gaze. “Keep it real, man. We both know you just don’t want to tell me, so say so.”
Leave it to Des to tell it like it was. “I know she’s trouble,” Jag said, and that was as much truth as he had to offer right now. “That’s enough.”
“She’s trouble,” Des said, his tone flat. He snorted and patted his horse. “That’s what you say about all women.”
Jag maneuvered to face off with Des, squaring his shoulders as he prepared to issue a familiar reprimand. “Women are trouble and you’d best remember that.”
This time Des’s horse snorted. It was female, quite appropriate for Des, who loved the ladies. “Shh,” Des said, sliding his hand over its nose. “He didn’t mean it, cariño.”
Jag eyed his friend and shook his head. Des always found a joke to hide behind. Tall and dark, Des wore his reddish brown hair chin length and on the wild side. A scar above his lip drew the eyes. His half-Indian bloodline was more evident than his Spaniard side in his high cheekbones and chiseled jaw.
But it was the
raw edginess Des wore as a second skin that made him so distinctive. His shield might be his easygoing exterior, but most sensed what was beneath, even feared it. Except women. They found it alluring. Des could bring a woman to surrender faster than he could a man in battle, which was pretty damn fast.
Jag grimaced. “You push your luck, my friend, and today is not a day to test me.”
“You say that all the time, as well,” Des countered, grinning, his bright white teeth glimmering in the moonlight.
Jag stared at Des, unmoving, half because of Des’s dismissal of his warning, and half because he was still processing the implications of that car being here…of the woman who came with it.
“This is not jest, Des. You’re headed for trouble.” Silently he added, I’ve already found it…A blond seductress after my soul.
Des pinned Jag in a look, his voice serious. “You know why I am like I am. Sex calms the beast.”
Many of the Knights felt this, Jag included—until these dreams. Still, some of the men, Des especially, sought that outlet too often. Too freely. Sex took the edge off, yes. But during…during the act it was volatile. The man didn’t completely have control…the beast lived. They all knew it. Jag feared it for all of his men.
“If that were the case,” Jag replied, “you’d be damn near comatose from so much activity.” A vision of his dream flashed in Jag’s mind. Of biting the woman’s shoulder. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he delivered a warning he often did to Des. “One day it’s going to backfire on you. One day you won’t be able to stop at simple pleasure. Instead of calming, you will instigate. The beast won’t stop at simple pleasures of the body. It’ll make you take more.” He cut his gaze away, afraid the fear his dreams evoked would show in his face, afraid his voice held too much conviction.
Silence clicked like a timer in the air. One second. Two. Then, “You’re avoiding the subject,” Des said, doing the same himself about the topic Jag had just launched. “I held my tongue as we followed her today, certain you would tell me when the time was right. She’s here now. The time is now right.”
Jag didn’t respond before, nor was he going to now.
Des refused to back down. “Who is she and why is she here?”
Jag shoved his gloves in the leather bag hanging from his horse’s saddle. “Like I said, when I know more, I’ll tell you.” His tone was sharp, full of authority, irritation clear. The subject was closed. Jag jerked his chin forward. “Let’s move.” He started walking, and soon Des followed.
Once they were beside the car, Des peered into the passenger window as Jag did the same on the driver’s side, both taking in the sole, unfamiliar woman inside. Straightening, Des eyed Jag over the roof. “If I open it, she might fall. She’s leaning on the window.”
Nodding his understanding, Jag opened his side of the car, wondering where the driver had gone. The engine was still running, the air blowing to keep the car semicool. Even with the sun down, it was close to ninety outside.
Jag leaned across the seat, inspecting the pale-faced blonde and noting the familiarity to his dream woman. The seductress he couldn’t get out of his thoughts. The one who brought to mind sex, seduction…and trouble. The one who’d taste like heaven but dared him to hell.
This woman was thinner, but she shared the same bone structure, the same high cheekbones. Perhaps this was her sister. Yes. It had to be. At a minimum, a relative.
Reaching across the car, Jag eased the woman off the door, drawing a murmur from her, but nothing more. Her skin was cold. Too cold. That was all he needed to tell him why she was here. He stood and fixed Des in a look. “Check her for marks.”
A moment later, Des stared at him over the rooftop again, and confirmed what Jag already knew. “She’s been marked, claimed by a beast without question. Whoever brought her here probably saved her life.” His eyes narrowed. “The Darklands want these women. Why?”
“I don’t know,” Jag said, and it was the truth. He couldn’t have answered if he’d have wanted to.
Darklands often used humans for pleasure, keeping them in a trancelike stage until they were through with them. Until they killed them. That they picked the relative of the woman from his dreams by accident was unlikely. Then again, at this point, he wasn’t ruling out a trap. For all he knew, the women were bait of some sort.
For now, he needed to deal with what was urgent. They needed to get the injured female to their Healer. “Cut through the woods and get her to Marisol while she still has a chance. I’ll find the other one and deal with the car.”
Jag turned off the engine of the car and pocketed the keys. If he had trouble finding the missing woman, she’d eventually come back to the car. If she could find it, that was.
With a low whisper, Jag called the horses forward. He mounted Diablo, and leaned forward, patting the animal in reward for his response. Though he’d never told a soul, the name had meaning to him. It had been the name of the horse Jag had gone to ride the day he’d met Caron. The memories were all coming back to him with painful force. Memories he’d buried long ago.
Beside him, Des settled the injured visitor in front of him. She held herself upright as if awake, but she stared ahead, a blank look on her face.
Des eased his mare parallel to Diablo. “You want me to send a search party to help?”
“No,” Jag said, shutting that idea down fast. “Just get her to Marisol.”
Des stared at him a moment too long, and then kicked his heels, putting his horse into motion. Still, Jag sat there, unmoving. Thinking about the implications of the day’s events. Thinking about her. The woman who had seduced him in his sleep. She’d taken him into submission and stripped him of the control he valued so completely.
What was this woman to be able to do such a thing inside his mind and make it feel so real? Salvador’s words came to him then. She is important. Keep her close. Right. Keep a woman who is pure temptation close. A woman who makes him want things he shouldn’t. A woman who could steal his soul if he let her.
Jag’s nostrils flared with a gust of wind. With the scent of the woman so near, images from his dreams leaped into his mind. Of her naked, pressed close to him, full breasts bouncing as he moved inside her. And already, he felt the slight extension of his cuspids. Felt the hunger to taste her. The beast inside wanted to taste the blood of her flesh. To devour her. And from there, he knew what would come next. He would destroy her. Blood brought the rage to kill upon a beast.
This woman knew not what she asked of him in those dreams. If he took of her blood, he’d surely take her last breath. Now, she was here, alive. Real. And already he’d tasted temptation on her lips.
“Damn it,” he murmured, giving the horse a slight nudge with his boots to start them in motion.
There could be no good come of this.
Karen wasn’t so sure walking had been a good idea. The path was dark and no doubt snake infested. This was, after all, Texas, where rattlesnakes were darn near as common as dogs.
The sound of a horse approaching brought part relief and part trepidation as she turned toward it. Would the rider be friend or foe?
There wasn’t time to decide what she would do if the latter was the case before a black stallion appeared by her side. Karen tilted her chin up to see the man riding it, taken aback by the sight he made, broad and strong, atop. She blinked up at him, taking in the long dark hair and the foreboding look in his piercing gaze. The word warrior came to mind. Her eyes narrowed on his form, cutting through the darkness as recognition took hold.
It couldn’t be…yet, it was.
To her utter, complete shock, she found the man from the airport. His darks eyes met hers, and despite the shadows of night, she felt the contact from head to toe, the intensity of it quite frightening. A roller coaster of emotions overtook her. Lust, desire, fear, even disbelief, rushed through her like a wild gust of wind. In that moment, she could almost feel his lips against hers again. Almost smell his spicy male scent.
; She took a step backward, forcing herself out of whatever spell his appearance, or perhaps lack of sleep, had cast. Logic said that this man meant trouble. He’d been following her. How else had he been at the airport? The coincidence was too much. Perhaps, he was actually involved in what was happening to her sister.
With that thought, she took action. She didn’t think, just took flight toward the car. Adrenaline pumped through her body, her heart pounding against her chest with fast beats. She had to get to Eva and get out of here.
But she’d made it only a few feet when she found herself pulled tight against the hard body of the stranger, her back to his chest. She tried to kick and fight, but he held her with ease. Out-of-character tears burned in the back of her eyes, as fear—not for herself—but for her sister, took hold.
Suddenly the man’s mouth was close to her ear. “When you’re done fighting, let me know.”
His words infuriated her, when they should have frightened. But anger felt better than fear, more empowering, and she clung to it, kicking with renewed energy. Energy that got her nowhere and quickly started to turn to defeat. She hated being out of control like this. Hated feeling as if she could do nothing to change the outcome of what occurred.
To her dismay, the stranger laughed. For some reason, she got the feeling he was angry with her. Not like in the airport. This was darker. Almost…condemning. Why, she didn’t understand. But it was there, beneath the taunts. Beneath the low, sultry sound of that laugh.
She fought some more, giving her best effort to injure him and get free. Finally she had to face facts. This plan wasn’t working. She stopped moving, still trying to think. Not an easy task with him holding her so close. He got to her, this man, and she felt ashamed. He might be the one who hurt her sister; he might be Adrian. Though, for some reason she couldn’t begin to understand, she knew it wasn’t true. She knew he wouldn’t really hurt her. Still, she had to act on logic, not feelings.
“You have a temper that would be more fitting in a redhead,” he commented, amusement in his voice. “But then, I like the blond. It suits you.”