Chapter 3

Evil Revealed

SARAH DECIDED that if brains were ants, she wouldn’t have enough to pick up a bread crumb. The wicáhmunga had his hands around her throat, and though he wasn’t choking her yet, she could feel the strength in his fingers. He would probably break her neck before she could order Willow to strike. Why had she taunted him with that crack about being a betting man?

Because she was always flip when she was afraid, and when he’d unexpectedly charged her, she’d been terrified. Thankfully, Willow had come to her rescue. But rattlers couldn’t climb trees. How had she gotten up there? Wanága.

“You can relax, wicáhmunga,” she told him, projecting a bravado she didn’t feel. But maybe if she acted as if she were in control, he’d think she was. “Your life isn’t in immediate danger, so why don’t you let me go? I suggest you do it slowly, however. Willow doesn’t like to be jolted, and I’m sure she’s upset enough about falling out of a tree. I’d also recommend that you don’t speak. She isn’t fond of men’s voices, either.”

She felt his fingers flex around her neck, and she was sure he was going to kill her. But he released her, and she quickly scrambled away from the tree.

When she put some distance between them, she took a good look at him. Willow’s face was only inches from his, and his expression was a combination of fear and revulsion.

But it wasn’t fear Sarah sensed emanating from him. It was fury. Bewildered, she took another step back. She could understand his anger. He was a wicáhmunga, and not only had she trapped him, he’d failed to escape. But with Willow around his neck, fear should have been his overriding emotion. So from where was all that anger coming?

Instinctively, she lowered her gaze to the triangle hanging around his neck. The object was glowing red, and she gulped. She knew from her own experiences that it only became that color when it was feeding on intense rage, forcing the evil inside a person to surface. But was it true evil it had found inside the wicáhmunga, or was the triangle trying to poison his soul?

There was only one way to find out. Remove Willow from around his neck and see what he did. But first, she had to make sure he was in a place where he couldn’t escape. To her distress, there was only one place close by that fit the bill. She had to take him to her special cave.

Dispiritedly, she said, “Follow me, wicáhmunga. We won’t be going far. And don’t try to run away. Even if you manage to get rid of Willow, the other snakes are still around.”

Turning into the trees, she didn’t bother to see if he followed. She was too busy fretting over taking him to her cave. It had been her sanctuary since childhood, and no one, not even Wanága or Leonard, had ever entered it. It was the one place where she could escape the demands of being the guardian and pretend she was a normal person.

But now the wicáhmunga would enter it, and the echoes of his presence would remain within its walls forever. The cave would no longer be a sanctuary, but a reminder that she could never lead a normal life.

When she arrived at the cave’s mouth, she stopped and glanced back. The wicáhmunga was a short distance behind her and walking so cautiously he looked as if he were moving in slow motion. Evidently, he’d taken her warning about jolting Willow to heart.

“Just come into the cave,” she told him, ducking into the dark interior before she could change her mind.

She paused inside to fish an old cigarette lighter out of her pants pocket. When she pulled it out, she rubbed her thumb over its worn surface. The lighter had belonged to Leonard. Normally, just touching it made her feel close to him. Tonight, however, it reminded her of her aloneness.

When she felt the sting of tears, she impatiently blinked them back and flicked on the lighter. Now was not the time to indulge in a bout of self-pity. She was the guardian, and she had a job to do.

Cupping her hand around the flame, she walked purposefully toward the firewood she’d laid earlier in the day. When she reached it, she dropped to her knees and lit the kindling, which was so dry it immediately caught fire.

Sitting back on her heels, she watched the small flames spread to the brittle bark of the logs. As larger flames flared, she heard the wicáhmunga enter behind her. She pivoted on her knees to look at him.

As her gaze landed on him, she gasped. She’d known he was big, but standing inside her small cave, he looked like a giant. Indeed, his shoulders were so broad they blocked the opening. Even Willow, who was more than four feet long, was dwarfed by his size.

Cautiously, Sarah raised her gaze to his face. There was no longer fear in his expression. It reflected unadulterated fury, and the glitter in his dark eyes was so malevolent that she trembled in fright.

But the wave of terror that washed over her wasn’t due to his ex­pression or his eyes. It was caused by the vision forming in her mind. She and the wicáhmunga were making love!

She gave a frantic shake of her head, refusing to believe the vision. But the harder she tried to deny it, the more distinct it became.

Their naked bodies were entwined, and she cried out as he flexed his hips and entered her urgently, ruthlessly. But her cry wasn’t due to physical pain. It was caused by a raging storm inside her—a spiritual agony that she knew would destroy her. But no matter how hard she fought against the storm, it continued to rage until—

No! she screamed inwardly, cutting off the image. It isn’t true. I would never make love with the wicáhmunga. To defeat him, I have to remain pure!

Although she didn’t want to accept what she’d seen, she knew that all her visions came true. And there was only one way to stop this one from happening. If she didn’t, the wicáhmunga would win the battle and her people would be lost.

Closing her eyes tightly, she mentally ordered Willow to strike.

STRIKE! AS THE word reverberated in Sebastian’s mind, he reacted on instinct. Just as the snake opened its mouth and extended its fangs, he reached up and grabbed it behind the head.

It struggled violently as it tried to get at him, and he shuddered as he jerked it from around his neck. Its scaly body felt like sandpaper scraping against his skin, and its coldness was a grisly reminder of how close he was to death.

Holding the viper at arm’s length, he glared at it. It flailed against his hold with such force that, even over its deafening rattle, it sounded like a whip slashing through the air.

When its tail whisked against his abdomen, he grabbed it and grinned in grim satisfaction. With a little fancy footwork, he should be able to swing the snake and smash its head against the wall. Then the bastard wouldn’t be a threat to him or anyone else.

No! Don’t hurt her!

Shocked, he jerked his head toward Sarah. She was mentally commu­nicating with him, and he hadn’t initiated the connection. In fact, every time he’d tried to touch her mind, he’d failed. What in hell was going on?

Before he could consider the question, she surged to her feet and held out her hand in a supplicating gesture. “Please! Willow was just obeying my command. If you’ll give her to me, I swear she won’t harm you.”

Sebastian glanced back at the snake. It had stopped struggling, but its mouth was still open, its fangs bared. He returned his attention to Sarah and regarded her through narrowed eyes. Her acute anxiety was palpable. Obviously, the snake was important to her. But was it important enough for her to give him the triangle? There was only one way to find out.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “You give me the triangle and guar­antee me safe passage to my car, and I won’t kill your snake.”

She looked at the snake and her lower lip quivered, but when she returned her gaze to him, she said, “What triangle?”

“Why are you being so damn stubborn?” he yelled as his temper snapped. “I know you have the triangle. Why else would you have demanded that I give you mine?”

When she mutely stared at him, he tried to touch her mind. He couldn’t get a glimmer of her thoughts, and that baffled him. She’d connected with him, so why couldn’t he connect with her? Her triangle must be imbuing her with a certain amount of power, he concluded. But if that were the case, why were his powers malfunctioning?

He didn’t have the answer, so he ordered, “Give me the triangle and safe passage, Sarah, or I swear I’ll beat this snake against the wall so hard that you’ll be picking up pieces for a month.”

Again, her lower lip quivered, but she lifted her chin a defiant notch and repeated, “What triangle?” Sebastian’s entire body trembled in fury. He knew that mortals could be arbitrarily stubborn, but why would she continue to deny the existence of the triangle when it was obvious that she had it?

Her behavior was so ridiculous, it went beyond the absurd.

He also didn’t have time for this. He needed her triangle so he could find the talisman’s circle before someone else found it. And he was sure that no one had found it yet. If they had, he would have connected with them, just as he’d connected with Sarah.

“You’re wrong, wicáhmunga,” Sarah said. “Someone has found the circle. His name is John Butler, and . . .”

She closed her eyes and tilted her head, as though listening to someone talking. A moment later, she opened her eyes and went on, “He’s trying to get here, but he killed a man and the police are after him, so he can’t just get on a plane like you did. But he’s working on a plan, and I suspect he’ll be here in twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

Realizing his mouth was hanging open, Sebastian closed it. He wasn’t sure what he found more astounding. The proof that she was reading his mind, or her claim that someone already had the circle. The latter was more important; but, if it were true that this Butler had the triangle, why hadn’t Sebastian connected with him?

Because his magic wasn’t working, and he couldn’t fix it until he was out of danger.

He returned his attention to the snake. It had finally closed its mouth, but as he stared into its cold, unblinking eyes, he knew it was just waiting for an opportunity to strike. He needed to settle this problem, and then he could move on to the Butler issue, assuming Sarah was telling him the truth about the man.

“Oh, I’m telling you the truth,” she said, confirming that she was still reading his mind. “I’m also willing to declare a truce. If you’ll turn Willow loose, I’ll tell you everything I know about John Butler and his circle.”

He frowned at her. “I’ll turn the snake loose on two conditions. One, that you guarantee you’ll order every snake on this mountain to leave me alone, including this one. Secondly, that you give me your triangle.”

“I can easily grant your first request,” she replied. “I can’t, however, give you what I don’t have, and I don’t have any triangle. If you don’t believe me, search me.”

Until now, Sebastian had been too worried about survival to take a good look at her. Of course, he’d known what she looked like. Whenever he’d touched the triangle, he’d seen her, but it was as if the object had revealed her in a two-dimensional image.

As his gaze swept over her, he noted that she was definitely three- dimensional. Her long black hair was plaited into a single braid that hung over her left shoulder and dropped below her waist. Her face was a perfect oval, and beneath delicately arched brows, her large, eerily golden eyes were slanted like a cat’s. Her nose was small and straight, and her cheekbones high and prominent. As he stared at her exotic face, he felt an unexpected tug of desire.

Startled by his physical reaction to her, he lowered his gaze. She wore a fitted, long-sleeved leather shirt that laced up the front and clung to her full breasts. Fringe hung from its sleeves, and the shirt nipped in at her waist, which was so small Sebastian was sure his hands could completely encircle it. Denims, worn almost white, molded to her slender hips and legs.

An image of those shapely legs wrapped around his hips flitted through his mind and he snapped his head up, irritated. What the hell was wrong with him? Now was not the time to indulge in sexual fantasies. For pity’s sake, he was holding a rattlesnake that was determined to kill him!

As he stared at Sarah, he noted her heightened color and downcast eyes. Realizing she’d been reading his mind during his inspection of her, he muttered a curse. It was bad enough she’d been one step ahead of him from the time he arrived. For her to know that he’d felt a momentary flash of desire for her was intolerable. It also made him mad as hell.

He told himself to ignore the matter. After all, if he’d been able to read her mind, he might have picked up on some personal thought or emotion that would have been equally untenable for her.

But his common sense seemed to have gone on vacation, because he heard himself say, “Strip.”

Her head shot up and her strange, golden eyes were as brilliant as two suns as she gasped, “What?”

“I said strip,” he repeated, lifting the snake slightly. “As you can see, my hands are full, so I can’t search you.”

“I’m not going to take off my clothes!”

He flashed her a vindictive smile as he drawled, “As you so aptly put it when we were arguing over my shoes, I’m not giving you a choice. I’m giving you an order. So what’s it going to be, Sarah? A striptease or a dead snake?”

“I SWEAR THAT I don’t have the triangle, and making me take off my clothes to prove it is . . . inappropriate,” Sarah argued frantically. After the vision she’d seen of them making love, she wouldn’t take off so much as her moccasins around him.

“Inappropriate?” he repeated derisively. “I suppose it was appropriate for you to order me to take off my shoes while surrounded by rattlesnakes.”

She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “That may have been a little extreme, but I was trying to protect myself.”

“From what?” he challenged. “You can read my mind, so you knew I wasn’t a personal threat to you. That means you purposely set out to make a fool of me.”

Sarah opened her mouth, but closed it when she realized she didn’t know how to respond. If she denied reading his mind earlier, he wouldn’t believe her. Even if he did, it wasn’t going to make a difference. She’d wounded his pride.

She cast a quick glance at his triangle and gulped. It was blood red and glowing so brightly, it was practically pulsing. With the combination of his anger and bruised ego, it was having a veritable feast. Did he realize what the triangle was doing to him? she wondered, raising her gaze back to his face.

His vengeful expression assured her he wanted retaliation, but his mind didn’t reveal if it was a conscious or unconscious act. Damn! How could she deal with him if she couldn’t determine if he was being willingly controlled by the triangle?

“What’s the matter, Sarah,” he drawled, breaking into her agitated musing. “Cat, or should I say snake, got your tongue?”

At his taunt, she switched her attention to Willow, and her heart skipped a beat. He was squeezing her pet so tightly that if she didn’t do something fast, he wouldn’t have to beat Willow against the wall. He’d strangle her.

Why did I let him know I could read his mind? she railed at herself.

Because, between the vision of her making love with him and her fear for Willow’s safety, her mental barriers had dropped and her mind had automatically connected with his. How could she have been so stupid as to let her emotions get out of hand?

“Stop ignoring me!” he suddenly yelled.

Sarah jumped, startled by his unexpected outburst. Clearly, the triangle was pushing him to the edge. For Willow’s sake, she had to make him calm down before he went over it.

“I’m not ignoring you. I’m trying to figure out a compromise that we’ll both find satisfactory,” she said, cursing the slight quaver in her voice.

His gaze slid down her body in blatant, lascivious perusal. When he returned it to her face, he drawled, “It takes a lot to satisfy me, but I’m willing to let you give it a try. So, strip, Sarah, and let me see your ammu­nition.”

Sarah felt her cheeks flame. “I am not going to undress for you!”

“I thought you said you wanted us both satisfied. I can’t possibly do my part if you’re dressed.”

As she picked up the sensual images flooding his mind, her cheeks grew hotter. The things he was imagining doing to her body were worse than the vision she’d had!

Don’t you mean better than the vision?

Ignoring her traitorous conscience, she angrily declared, “Stop it!”

The wicáhmunga widened his eyes in a parody of innocence that made him look positively demonic. “Stop what?”

She glared at him. “You know what. You’re playing mind games with me.”

“As soon as you strip, I’ll gladly make them physical,” he replied in a suggestive voice that sent shivers down her spine. To her irritation, her reaction was not due to fear but to a strange heat stirring deep inside her . . .

Confused by the feeling, she again glanced at his triangle. It had taken on a deep purple sheen, and she suddenly understood that the object had taken a new tack. It hadn’t been able to push him over the edge with anger, so it had resorted to using his libido. She gulped again. She knew how to fight anger, but her experience with sex was limited to one chaste kiss.

“I realize you’re angry with me,” she said, raising her gaze back to his face. “And I can understand your feelings. But you aren’t looking beyond the immediate situation. It’s true that I don’t want you to harm Willow, but if you do, what will you gain? Certainly not my cooperation, and I’ll summon the rest of the snakes. You might be able to kill a few of them, but you won’t be able to kill them all. Then who’s going to handle this urgent mission you’re on?”

Lucien. The name flashed through his mind, and Sarah blinked in sur­prise when it was immediately followed by the image of two babies, who couldn’t be more than a few months old. Even more startling were the strong feelings of remorse that erupted inside him at the image.

Why was he feeling remorse about the children?

Had he harmed them in some way? The thought was too disturbing to even consider, so she looked at the triangle. It was fading back to silver, and she knew that this might be her only chance to regain control of the situation.

She looked back up at him and said, “You said you aren’t like Seamus Morpeth, so prove it. Give me Willow, and I’ll declare a truce.”

AS SARAH SPOKE, Sebastian glared at her, unable—or rather, unwilling— to believe that she’d wrested control from him again. But as much as he abhorred admitting it, her argument was sound. Other than the satis­faction he’d derive from killing the snake, he wouldn’t gain anything.

He glanced down at the reptile. It was now as passive as a rope, which was why he’d all but forgotten he was holding it. He knew, however, that the moment he released the rattler it could—and probably would—turn on him. To let it live would be insane, but if he died, Lucien would have to take over his mission until the council of high priests found another troubleshooter. Sebastian knew he couldn’t place that burden on his cousin. Lucien was a powerful warlock, but he didn’t have the powers that the troubleshooter possessed. He was also a new father—he and his mortal wife, Ariel, had four-month-old twins. If Lucien took over this job, there was a good chance he’d be killed. Sebastian couldn’t risk that. Lucien and his children were too important to the coven’s survival.

“Please, wicáhmunga,” Sarah said, breaking into his thoughts. When he looked at her, she took a step toward him and extended her hand. “Trust me.”

He cast a quick glance at the snake, which was still passive. Returning his attention to Sarah, he made one last effort to connect with her mind. When nothing happened, he cursed. It went against his very nature, but he knew his only chance at survival was to trust her.

“Take the vile beast,” he said, before he could change his mind.

She quickly reached for the snake. When she took it from him, the serpent immediately bared its fangs at him and began to rattle. As Sarah lifted its head to her face, she murmured something low and unintelligible. The snake swiveled its head toward her and flicked its tongue against her cheek.

Sebastian grimaced in revulsion, then scowled when Sarah gave him a tentative smile and said, “Thank you.”

He wasn’t feeling gracious, so instead of telling her she was welcome, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and asked, “When are you going to call off the rest of the snakes?”

“I’ve already done so,” she replied as she bent to set the rattler on the floor. It slithered toward the shadows at the back of the cave. “You’re safe for now, wicáhmunga.”

“My name is Sebastian, so stop calling me wicáhmunga,” he snapped, not sure he believed her about the snakes but not about to admit it. “And what the hell is a wicáhmunga anyway?”

“A literal translation is magician,” she said as she stood upright.

“And a non-literal translation?”

She regarded him for a long moment, and Sebastian found himself mesmerized by her eyes. There were only two eye colors within his race—a silvery blue from birth until the age of sixteen, and brown thereafter. He knew there were more color variations within mortals, but he also knew that Sarah’s strange golden hue would be considered an oddity even for them.

She gave him a wry look and shook her head. “Only a wasičun would ask for a non-literal translation.”

“Wasičun?”

“Literally, it means white man, but it applies to all non-Indians.”

“And you don’t like wasičuns?”

“I think it would be more fair to say they don’t like us. But you aren’t here to have a philosophical discussion about the trials and tribulations of my people,” she said, gesturing toward the fire. “Let’s sit down and talk about why you are here.”

Sebastian knew he should do as she asked, but he still smarted over the fact that she’d bested him. So instead of sitting down at the fire, he glanced around the cave.

It wasn’t that large. Maybe twenty-five or thirty feet deep and about twenty feet wide. He glanced toward the ceiling and noted it was only a few inches higher than his own six feet, five inches. He turned his attention to the items stored within the cave. There was a rolled sleeping bag, some cast-iron pots and pans, and a few dishes. There was also a wooden trunk, and he suspected it stored clothing.

“You live here?” he asked, glancing back at Sarah.

“Do I look like a cave dweller?” she replied dryly.

Sebastian automatically flicked his gaze over her, and he experienced another surge of desire. Irritated, he returned his gaze to her face. When her beautiful features came into focus, he forgot to breathe.

Ever since he’d donned the triangle, he’d been trying to connect with Sarah’s mind and failed. But now, as he stared at her, his mind meshed with hers without any effort on his part.

But it wasn’t her thoughts he latched onto. It was a vision so powerful that he had to lock his knees to keep from falling.

They were making love, and the sensations were so intense—so real—that his entire body was instantly aroused. They lay naked on the sleeping bag in front of the fire. He could feel the softness of her smooth skin against his hair-roughened flesh. Her full, pliable breasts were crushed against his chest; her pebbled nipples exciting him to even greater heights of desire.

Suddenly, she wrapped her legs around his hips and arched toward him, and he entered her urgently, roughly. He groaned.

Being inside her was like nothing he’d ever felt before. She was so tight. So hot. So wet. Then he moved inside her, and she responded with such passion that he had to fight to maintain control. But he almost lost it when she mentally wailed. Sebastian! Please!

He wanted to prolong their lovemaking, but he couldn’t ignore her plea. He began to thrust into her rapidly, latching onto the storm of her desire—letting it sweep him away until—

The vision ended so abruptly that Sebastian felt as if he’d fallen into a bottomless abyss. His entire body was taut and trembling, and his groin was heavy with the ache of unfulfilled desire.

He closed his eyes and tried to regain control. But the lovemaking images began to repeat in his mind with such clarity that he knew Sarah was replaying them in her mind. He also knew instinctively that she would again end them a moment before climax.

Isn’t it interesting that this is the first time you’ve been able to read her mind, and she’s tormenting you with visions of unfulfilled sex, an inner voice murmured. She knows you’re stronger and smarter than she, so she’s using seduction to manipulate you. And once she has you weak and begging for completion, she will destroy you.

As Sebastian’s eyes flew open, he noted that Sarah’s eyes were closed tightly. Her face had a sensual flush, and as he lowered his gaze to her heaving breasts, his temper exploded. If she thought she could destroy him with fantasies of sex, she was in for one hell of a surprise!

Prove that to her. Show her that when she incites a warlock’s passion, she can’t deny him fulfillment. Make her the one to beg, and then give her what she wants.

At the voice’s prodding, Sebastian crossed the short distance between him and Sarah and dragged her into his arms. As he crushed her against him and lowered his lips to hers, another voice cried, You can’t do this. Stop and think. There’s something wrong with this picture!

He shut out the voice. He didn’t want to think.

He wanted to feel, and he listened to his body, which was demanding he assuage the lust that had him so hot he was sure he was about to burst into flame.