She felt something…wet. Jace couldn’t see right and brushed one hand across her eyes.
Blood. She yanked up her shirt tail and wiped at her forehead to clear her vision.
With no airbags on her ancient jeep, her head had hit the steering wheel when she’d gone over the side of the road and slammed to a halt. Probing gingerly, Jace felt a gash on her scalp and hissed. No time to treat it now, though—she had to get out of the jeep and find cover before the men in the van came back and located her.
She groped for her cell phone through the jumble in her car, then abandoned the search. Reception in the mountains was spotty, and every second might count. She drew her weapon and emerged, plunged into the trees, battling dizziness. The pounding in her head ratcheted upward with every step.
She stumbled. Fell to her knees.
Jace knew she had to stop soon and figure out how badly she was hurt—but not here. With only moonlight to help, she scanned her surroundings for a good place to hide.
Ahead, she spotted the lights of a small cabin. If the occupants had a phone, she could call for help. Jace rose and staggered toward the friendly glow ahead.
A dark shape loomed.
Jace raised her weapon in a hand gone strangely weak.
The tall figure moved closer. Long dark hair surrounded a face that could have been cut from stone.
“Justine, you’re hurt. Let me help you.”
Justine. “No!” She backed away, stumbled again. “No—you’re—Don’t touch me.”
Dante Sabanne reached for her.
She took another shaky step back.
He halted. “What happened?”
Jace fought to keep the pistol pointed at him, blinking repeatedly to clear the jittery images. “You—you know what happened.”
“How would I? Here—let me take the gun.”
“No. You…you were there.” She struggled to keep her feet. “You—They followed me.”
He glanced around. “Who?”
Jace’s eyes closed; she forced them open. “Back—back there. On the road. Ran me off. Shot—”
“Someone shot you? Is that blood on your shirt? Where are you hit?” He grabbed the weapon from her and tucked it into his waistband. Ran his hands over her.
It happened again, the spinning, the starburst—but it was all jumbled up with her head wanting to explode and her stomach—
Jace batted at him without strength. “Don’t touch me. I’m not hit. Leave me alone. Got to get—” Her legs gave way.
He swung her into his arms and turned toward the cabin. “Come. I must take a look at this.”
“Dark robes…” she whispered. “Was it—?”
He leaned closer. “What?”
“Can’t—” Jace shut her eyes. Her stomach revolted with his every step. She’d eaten little all day, but she still felt nauseous. The spinning didn’t help. “Stop.”
He kept walking. “I must get you inside to look at your injuries.”
“Gonna—” Weakly she pushed against him, trying to get down. “Gonna be sick.”
“Justine, I have to stop the bleeding.”
“Please…” She shoved at his shoulder, launched herself at the ground. Fell to her knees and emptied the meager contents of her stomach while he steadied her. Jace was mortified but too dizzy and muddled to do anything but remain where she was.
“Let me take you inside now. There you can rinse out your mouth while I look you over.” His voice was gentle.
“But—” Jace’s head spun. “It was you…in the robes…”
“Robes?”
“The ceremony…”
“What are you talking about?”
She couldn’t think straight.
He started to lift her into his arms again.
She backed away. “No—please don’t touch me.”
He halted, his gaze peering straight into her. “You feel it, too, don’t you?”
“No. No…” She was so tired, so dizzy. “I don’t…it’s insane. I’m not…am I crazy?”
“You are not, but you make it worse when you fight it.” He picked her up, and she stiffened. “Please…try to relax.” Then he murmured words that made no sense but seemed oddly familiar. “Better?”
The song drifted away. The lights receded. “It’s because I hit my head, that’s all.”
“Denying it will not help. We must discuss this, Justine. You cannot imagine its importance.”
She tensed again, shaking her head. “I don’t want to.”
He sighed and looked ahead as he walked, carrying her as though she weighed nothing. “Then for now, please try to relax and simply let me take care of you.”
However much she wanted to argue, she didn’t have the strength. Reeling and aching, Jace decided to bide her time and gratefully leaned against his solid frame. When they neared the cabin, he didn’t knock but simply shoved the door open.
“Whose place is this?” she asked, squinting at the modest interior.
“Mine.”
The furnishings were plain and spare. “But you have a mansion.”
“Sometimes I need a retreat.” He set her down by the kitchen sink, kept one hand on her waist to steady her. From a pot on the window sill, he pinched off mint leaves, squeezed them and dropped them into a glass he filled with water. “Here—this will help.”
She rinsed her mouth with the sweet, refreshing liquid. While she drank, he took the pistol from his waistband and set it on the counter, then carefully he probed at her hairline. “You are certain you’re not bleeding anywhere else?”
She shook her head, then moaned at the movement.
“The gash is not deep,” he said. “I can bandage it. Look at me first, though.” He held up a hand. “How many fingers do you see?”
“Twelve.”
A small smile curved his lips. It made him seem approachable, for a change. “Turn your head toward the light.” He studied her intently. “Your pupils are even and reactive. Rest should help the dizziness. Sit, and I will clean you up.” Settling her in the chair, he retrieved a dish cloth and folded it, then placed it against the cut. “Hold this firmly while I gather supplies.”
She winced but obeyed. “Those men…”
He picked up a cordless phone from the counter and dialed, walking away as he issued rapid orders in another language.
Then he returned. “Manolo will be checking on this. You need not worry, in the meantime. This cabin is secure.”
“I should call it in.”
“You are hurt. Manolo will handle it,” he snapped.
“There’s…a girl. A man—two men—in robes. A woman. Candles. I think they might have drugged her. They were…it’s a cult.”
“A…cult?”
“There’s a hidden building back…” She tried to rise. Sagged. “Not sure. Back in the trees, up the mountain road. I…how far did they chase me? Two miles? Three?”
“I will send Manolo to look.”
“Call…Earl at PD headquarters. Earl Ramsey.”
“Fine.” He picked up the phone, spoke again. She didn’t relax until she heard Earl’s name uttered.
He returned to her. “Now, please let me help you.”
“No hospital.”
One brow rose. “No?”
“Hate hospitals.”
“I am not fond of them myself. Fortunately for you, I am quite adept at healing all manner of injuries.”
“’Cause you studied all over—” She waved a hand airily. “Everywhere?”
Another small smile. “Yes.”
“But you’re…zillionaire.”
“Not quite. Why does that matter?” The eyes were a soft gray now, the warmest she’d ever seen them.
“You could hire someone to do messy stuff like this.”
“I could. Some things I prefer to handle myself. Does your head hurt?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Let me get something for you.” He left, then returned with another glass of water and two ordinary tablets.
“No potions?”
He chuckled. “I do know a good one. Would you prefer that?”
“Guess not.” Who was this man? Not the remote, forbidding lord of the manor…not the sorcerer who’d seduced her.
With trembling fingers, she gave into impulse and touched his mouth. Were these the same lips that had driven her out of her mind—was it just last night?
He stilled, one hand clasping the cloth to her wound.
“Are you real?” she asked.
A faint smile. “Very.”
“Did—did you kiss me last night?”
His gaze dropped to her lips, and she could barely breathe, waiting for his answer, for how he would react. It was madness, but she wanted his mouth on hers, his weight pressed into her. His power and darkness unleashed, the storm of it crackling over her as lightning dances on the crest of a hill.
His eyes ensnared hers with the focus of a raptor.
She reached out again to test him. Test herself.
And jostled the hand pressing the towel to her head. “Ow!” The spell snapped.
He retreated. “Hold this. I will be right back.”
Jace complied, almost welcoming the sting as a wakeup call to reality.
Soon he returned with bandages and ointment and arranged them on the table. Jace stared at his broad back and lean hips. Competent hands acted with an economy of motion, strong but graceful, power held under firm command.
“Perhaps it will please you to know that the ointment is my own creation.”
She started to ask what was in it, but she was too worn out to care.
“Only a few minutes more and you can lie down.” He dressed the cut with a minimum of pain to her. With care, he bathed the blood from her face, seeming younger, not so forbidding and glacial. “How is your head now?”
“Better. Thank you.”
“You are welcome. I will loan you a shirt so you can take off that blouse. There is a great deal of blood on it.” Standing up, he drew her with him and carried her to the sofa in front of the fireplace.
Jace settled into the cushions. Her eyelids drooped. She was exhausted.
“Rest now, Justine. I will check you in a little while, but sleep is best for you.”
She forced her eyes open. “Why do you call me Justine? No one else does. I don’t allow it.”
“I know.” He left the room.
She thought about leaving, but thinking was all she could manage at the moment. With a deep sigh of relief as the pain receded further, she drifted off. A deep voice swirled from the mists. Surrender…open yourself to me. Fragments of last night, the madness, the ache of wanting.
Then he returned, the soft golden light from the cabin walls painting his face less severe. He studied her in silence, his manner pensive…troubled.
“What are you thinking about?” However much she didn’t want to discuss the insanity that happened whenever they touched, she wanted to know what dwelled in those depths. So mysterious…so much that she didn’t understand about him.
Too much of it tugged at her.
His face went blank. “Now is not the time. Sit up.” He knelt beside the sofa, shirt in hand, and supported her back with his arm. “Are you able to manage this yourself or do you need help?”
She tried to summon the energy but gave up. “Help.”
He slid her t-shirt over her head gently, then paused. Her bra was soaked, too. One quick flick opened the front clasp of her bra, and the brush of his skin singed hers. The vortex beckoned, and she shivered.
His own gaze snapped to hers, and all she could see then was him. As he slid the straps from her shoulders, she focused on one deep breath, then another, trying to steady herself—but every hair on her body rose in response to his touch.
All neutrality fled. His eyes never left hers; she couldn’t have looked away if the end of the world threatened.
His hand splayed across her midriff…so warm, his very touch sinking deep, whispering secrets into the cells of her body.
Then his hand trembled. With that one tiny chink in his armor, everything changed.
No glacial formality separated them now. Suddenly, Jace could see within his eyes something that spoke to the woman, not the cop. Called to the deepest part of her, the adventurer, the dreamer she’d thought long dead.
A shiver danced across nerves strained with waiting…sensing the hand of fate.
“Justine.” His head lowered, his warm breath mingling with hers.
She could save herself if she ran away now.
She didn’t want to. Fire beckoned…the flames called out her name. Every cell in her body cried out against restraint.
He didn’t force her.
But he didn’t back off, either.
“I want to break open this shell behind which you hide.” He leaned closer, swirling dark currents in his eyes. “There is an empty place within you, and it eats away at your soul. You want to trust, but you are afraid no one is strong enough.”
Trust. He had unerringly put his finger on her worst fear.
For too long, she had relied only upon herself. Since the age of twelve that had been her only means to prevent her whole world from unraveling again. With the firing of one bullet, she’d been thrust from cherished child to head of family. Never trust anyone—it might have been engraved on her heart. No one will be there for you.
“I—No—” She tore her gaze from his to rest on hands gone nerveless, pale thin fingers clenched. “You’re wrong. I don’t need that.”
“You do. Let me help you find respite.”
He wasn’t wrong. She was so eternally tired of being the strong one. Of being alone.
His expression said that he knew, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, with exquisite care, he slid the bra from beneath her and cast it to the floor. The cool night wind sifted through the open window nearby, caressing her skin like the breath of a lover.
She waited for him to venture further into the seduction she craved, but he surprised her and simply slipped his shirt over first one arm, then the other. He lowered her to the pillows and began to button the shirt.
His long fingers brushed her skin again and again. Tiny shocks raced through her body at each whisk of nails across tender flesh. Shimmering bursts of starlight flared around him, and her nipples hardened to points.
Jace went still, for once not afraid of that midnight sky or the carpet of stars, tantalized by a sense of something extraordinary just out of her reach. Electrified by the challenge, galvanized by the thrill of fear, she allowed herself to relax and let it happen, this…whatever it was. He won’t overtake me. I won’t let him. I’m strong. Tough. Nothing has broken me, nothing will.
He finished buttoning and paused, his eyes searching hers. “We are not done, Justine.” He stood, and she desperately wanted to call him back to her. “But rest now, and I will keep you safe.”
Oddly, like the child she could barely remember being, she felt unafraid for the first time in forever. Protected.
And she slept.
When she awoke sometime later, he was sitting across from her in a massive overstuffed chair, a silent presence as regal and unapproachable as if he occupied a throne.
“You’re still here,” she said.
A slight nod. “How do you feel?”
She considered. “Better. How long have I slept?”
“Two hours.”
“You sat here the whole time?”
He shrugged. “You are pleasant to watch.”
“You always watch me. I don’t know what to do with you.”
“What would you like to do?”
“Besides figure you out?”
“I am not complicated.”
A laugh burst from her. She had no words to express how complicated he was.
“You didn’t answer. What would you wish to do with me?” His eyes were molten steel on hers.
She glanced away.
“You are tempted, are you not? Would it help to know that I am as well?”
“Why?”
“You are not an uncomplicated creature yourself, Justine. There is more between us than you understand, but you must be willing to let go in a way you never have before. I will not force you. The choice is yours.”
The voice whispered from behind her in the darkness of The Club. Make your choice. Walk away and I will never touch you again.
She wanted to know what it was like, his possession. To find out if he was that man, the same one who’d dominated her every thought for days. Jace yearned to give in…to take that leap.
But what happened when they touched was overwhelming, and she had the sense that he would demand everything of her. Leave her nowhere to hide.
Did she dare?
Hell, yes, she realized. She never backed down from a challenge.
Rising from the sofa, she watched his eyes go molten, his fingers clamped on the arms of the chair as he waited for her decision. She stood before him, the silk of his shirt rubbing her bare breasts, feeling a surge of power, not weakness.
How much she wanted this was insane. For one night only, to let go. To fly free. She would handle him, handle this, she thought. Nothing had ever been able to destroy her.
She unfastened her jeans and let them drop, stepping out when they pooled at her feet. She unbuttoned his shirt but left it on. Taking a pace toward him, she watched his eyes spark, his jaw go rigid.
“I want more than your body, Justine.”
Jace hooked her thumbs into her panties, her eyes never leaving his face. “That’s all you’re going to get.”
He didn’t speak, but a muscle flexed in his jaw, the fire in his eyes banked, the coals still hot with need.
For an instant she wavered. He exposed too much in her—what if she was wrong that she could handle him? Her gaze darted toward the door. A shudder ran through her. She forced her breathing to slow.
Dante waited, his gaze palpable. This wasn’t like playing games with Gabriel. With Gabriel, she controlled the boundaries.
With this man, she never would.
You’ll always wonder if you don’t see.
She was playing dice with destruction, yet it drew her like a magnet. She’d never met a man like him.
And he was different than before…open to her right now to a degree she couldn’t resist. Jace took another step in his direction and saw the approval, the knowledge of what it had cost her in the nod he gave her, the hand he held out. When she placed her hand in his, he drew her onto his lap, spread her from one cushioned arm to the other.
Her mostly naked.
Him fully clothed.
Fighting a last-ditch urge to hunch over, to protect, Jace forced herself to remain outstretched, her legs draped to his right, his left arm around her back.
He made one long, stunning sweep from throat to ankles. “Watch as your body comes alive under my hands.” He proceeded to do just that, to stir life hot and sweet in her belly, to draw forth such need that she threw back her head and gave him free rein.
Joy…greed…hunger tore at her, sizzled down her spine, clawed into her mind. A strange melody trilled as she watched him play with her, his darker hands startling against her pale skin, his knowledge of her body shocking. Delicious. The edge of a stunning freedom beckoned, as frightening as it was exhilarating.
His middle finger slid within her, hooked beneath her pubic bone while his thumb rubbed in circles against the exquisitely-sensitive bud.
She came apart violently, bucking against him and whimpering low in her throat as tremors rocked and her mind went white. Her thighs locked around his hand, her body pulsed around his finger, the eddies of bliss spreading through her like waves crashing the shore.
Then she fell back, boneless.
His unblinking stare was a laser, searing away every last place she might hide.
Too exposed, her dignity in shreds, she tensed.
His hand held her fast. “No—do not. You honor me to let me be so intimate. A woman is never more beautiful than when she is transported by hunger…when she loses herself in desire.” His hand still claimed her. Her inner muscles tightened, little shocks echoing the rapture. “This, Justine, is the beginning of surrender. Revel in it. Feel the power you wield.”
Too blissed out to fight the pleasure anymore, Jace lay back in his arms, legs splayed, his finger buried deep inside, his thumb pressed against her.
Replete, she smiled.
Then found the energy and mischief to rock once more against his hand.
Dante’s eyes all but burned her up.
Lassitude faded fast. Hunger crashed over her in gale-force waves. Jace rose swiftly over him and parted her thighs to straddle his lap. Diving fingers into his long dark mane, Jace leaped from conquest to aggressor in the space of a breath.
She traced the length of him, smiling as he pulsed against her hand. “Now,” she purred, “You surrender to me.”
The moment she laid her mouth on his, the world detonated. Light flared phosphorescent, sparks shot from her body to his. Ribbons of violent color spilled into the night. Jace slanted her head to deepen the kiss, rose to her knees and forced his head back against the chair.
Pungent and heady, arousal exploded in the air about them. Dante crushed her against his chest. Jace fought to control the tempo, but the predator had awakened, and nothing would stop him now.
Like two savage gods, they mated, the only barrier between them their battle for control. This sense of total possession was beyond anything Jace had ever experienced, this awareness that she could not hold him at bay, could not surrender merely her body and keep the rest of her intact.
Yet a look at Dante’s eyes told her he was not immune to her, either. An unexpected vulnerability peered out, fed her craving. She tugged at his clothing, wanting to feel him skin to skin, abandoning buttons to jerk his shirt over his head, struggling with the fastenings on his jeans.
Dante released the kiss and swore impatiently, rose from the chair to carry her to what she hoped was a bed. Jace locked her legs around his waist, his every step rubbing her mound against the hard ridge of flesh. As he strode, she sought out his mouth, sweeping inside to taste the wildness of him on her tongue.
But soon she realized they were traveling through a tunnel, then climbing a set of stairs.
The room she found herself in was…amazing. Round walls, a thick, beautiful rug on the floor, a massive bed beneath a clear skylight shimmering icy-blue with moonlight that surrounded her, poured over her skin.
Falling back on the bed, she watched him strip with haste.
Finally—at last, oh God, at last—he covered her, skin to heated skin.
Midnight, deep in the forest. A predator stalking her, demanding everything. Silver eyes searched her own as if there was something he must tell her.
Her fingers tightened on his shoulders. “What is it?”
Shadows passed over the silver. “Nothing.”
“But—”
He pressed the merest inch into her.
Jace sucked in air. Moaned.
Dante’s strong arms held him above her, still as a statue. “I cannot afford to want you so.”
Jace searched his gaze. “Why?”
A fine mist of sweat broke out on his forehead. “Too much is at stake. I should make you stay far away, but I cannot.”
She thrust her hips, aching to draw him inside. Her eyes closed at the exquisite feel of him. “You want me open to you, that’s what you said.”
“I need more. I must have your trust. Your true surrender.”
“Why?”
Slowly, he expanded her, the sensation of fullness driving her fingernails into his sides. Inhaling sharply, she tried again. “Why, Dante?”
Another agonizing, slow slide, yet still he said nothing.
She closed her eyes, forced herself not to beg, though her body was screaming for relief.
“Justine.” His voice pulsed with an urgency she hadn’t heard before. “You will see things…hear things that confuse you, arouse your suspicions. You must not yield to them.” The note of absolute truth in his voice opened her eyes. “You feel what I feel. Open to me. Let us soar together. Give me more than your body. I need your help, indeed your very soul.”
When she wouldn’t answer, he withdrew, and Jace felt a loss so deep, she wanted to weep.
Though his body strained with the effort of holding back and his face was carved in lines of need, she had no doubt that he would walk away if she continued to withhold herself from him.
“You ask too much,” she whispered, arching against him.
“No more than you yearn to give.”
Her walls were crumbling, the last of the barriers she’d thought would protect her. From the very first, he’d had a hold on her like nothing she’d ever felt. Deep within, a voice cried out: Be done with the games.
Give or don’t give, Jace. The time is now.
Fingernails lightly grazing his chest, she stroked up his neck, the pads of her fingers exploring his lips as if they were a Braille guide to the rest of her life.
If she yielded, she might be forever changed. She stared into bottomless depths going dark with his unspoken longing, the same yearning that had been locked away within her so long. “Dante, I—” Fear stabbed deep. He could change her. Destroy her. Then who would she be?
He merely watched…and waited.
She’d tried not to ever need anyone, not since her father. “I want to trust you, but I don’t know you. How can I?”
“There is no middle ground. We are linked, you and I, in ways beyond your understanding.”
If she gambled and lost…
“What of your soul, Dante?”
He stilled, and his eyes blazed with regret. “That was lost long ago.”
The voice within her clamored louder, insistent. Do it. Or you’ll always wonder.
Praying she’d survive this, she took the leap. “All right, damn you. Yes.”
His eyes blazed with welcome, with relief and hunger…with sorrow. Before she could puzzle over the last, he gripped her wrists. “You are mine, Justine. You belonged to me from the moment we met. Never forget that.”
One stunning thrust joined them.
The vortex sucked her in, and she tensed—
Until she realized he was inside it with her. The carpet of stars spilled out before them like a trail, and she was no longer afraid. He was beside her, and the beauty of it was both terrible and achingly sweet. Ribbons of color burst from within her, rolling out into the darkness. A song swirled in the air around them.
“Oh, God,” she gasped. “Dante—” The power of their joining shuddered through her as if she’d touched pure lightning. She dug nails into his back. Gasped as he withdrew. Pressed upward as if she could climb inside his skin. “Dante, where…where are we?”
“Stay with me, stay with me,” he chanted, then a melody spilled from his lips in a language she didn’t know.
And the melding began. A shining edge of fire linked them, surrounded them, suffused them. Drew them on through inky sky bursting with stars, wrapped in the haunting, tender melody that soothed even as it called.
Daylight and reality would come, and with them, a reckoning.
But in the stolen, sweet hours of darkness, two lonely hearts, for a time…beat as one.
As her body cooled, Dante loosened his grip on her, turned on his side and studied her.
“Justine,” he said carefully. “Please. Tell me what you see when we touch.”
Unease seized her, and she fell back on reactions she understood. “I see a man who certainly knows his way around a woman’s body,” she purred, trailing one finger down his chest.
He captured it. “Do not play your games. This is more important than you can imagine.”
“I’m not playing.” But she was, and both of them knew it.
He simply arched one eyebrow. For a moment they were locked in silent combat. The discussion was one she still wasn’t ready for. It all sounded so crazy. “I don’t…” She shook her head and winced against the ache in her head she’d forgotten in the moments of bliss.
Disappointment shadowed those beautiful eyes, and he rose from the bed, removing his warmth. “I’ll get you something for that headache.”
Jace grabbed for his hand. “Don’t go.” She drew away before they touched, shaken. She didn’t cling. Ever. “Never mind.”
“There is much you do not understand.” He hesitated, his glance a brief flare of anguish. “And you must. Please stop fighting me on this.”
“Do you want me to tell you that you shake me up? Fine—you make my head spin. You make me see stars and colors—any other clichés you’d like to hear about? Does knowing that I completely lose control and it terrifies me, does that make you feel better?” She stood and donned his shirt, trying to remember where her clothes had gone.
“No,” he said quietly. “It does not. Do you hear the music, as well?”
“Stop pushing me!” she snapped. But she did, of course, a melody unlike anything she’d ever heard before, so compelling she’d wanted to give chase. To weep at its beauty. “What would it matter if I did?” she asked sullenly.
“I am not what you think, Justine.” His eyes held worlds in them. “And you are not what I expected.”
“Don’t be obscure, damn it. Say what you mean.” Her head was splitting.
“You are in pain again. I will be right back.”
“No. Explain first.”
“It is a long story.”
“Give me the TV Guide version.”
“Very well. I am a mage, a Light Walker. I am the protector of a powerful amulet, and it is lost to me. You are the key to finding it. And time is running out.”
Jace stared. Blinked. There are many facets of the ancient world that interest me…I’ve studied them all over the world. She seized on the one part of his answer she could wrap her mind around. “How could I be a key when I’ve never heard of any of this?”
“I do not know. You are…a surprise.”
Okay, she’d danced way out over the edge here, falling into bed with a man who was not only mysterious but possibly a real wacko. With gobs of money. “You have any idea how crazy this sounds?”
“I do.”
“And that I don’t believe in woo-woo crap?”
“In some ways you are very predictable, Detective.” He sighed audibly. “So we are back to this, your refusal to open your mind to any world beyond your limited view.”
“Screw you.” Despite her aching head, she whirled and gave him her back. “I’m out of here.”
“Not yet.”
She glanced around her for a handy weapon. Hers was…he’d taken it. She snapped on the armor of control. “Am I a prisoner, then?” she asked with all the contempt she could muster.
“No. Of course not. I had only hoped…” His shoulders sagged. “I’ll get you that remedy for your headache while I call Manolo to pick you up.”
“I’d rather have Earl do so.”
The mask was firmly back in place. “Fine. I will have Manolo call him again, and I will bring your clothes.” He donned his own, covering that magnificent body, and she couldn’t help a stab of regret that she wouldn’t be seeing it again.
“I’ll come with you.”
“Please stay…” He exhaled wearily. “Fine.”
She followed him down one flight of stairs to the tunnel she remembered, noting a second flight that led downward. A hidey hole? A getaway? She would remember it, just in case.
But he strode ahead of her as though they were on a summer stroll, his body language betraying no ill intent. Still, she would breathe easier once she was out of this tunnel, once she was in Earl’s car.
But as they walked, faint stirrings of grief chided her for ever believing she was bulletproof. She wasn’t, and it was deeply unnerving that, despite the woo-woo garbage, when they’d made love, he’d turned her inside out, gone past every safeguard she’d ever possessed. It was little consolation that she’d touched something in him, too.
And that terrifying sense of being flung outward into the vastness of a sky she’d never seen… She shivered. How did that relate to whatever the hell he was talking about?
A mage? A powerful amulet? Get real. How could she be any sort of key? Her mother’s tales of a grandmother’s gifts and Myra’s insistence that she possessed otherworldly abilities echoing in her head, she was frantic to get away from all of this.
She was not that person. Even if she could, she refused to be.
Where was there room in the Jace she knew for what kept happening to her as Justine?
Once inside the cabin, she darted for the clothes that were scattered on the floor, trying her hardest to ignore the sofa where she’d lain, mesmerized by his tender touch…the chair where he’d stripped her down to her essence.
A woman is never more beautiful than when she is transported by hunger…when she loses herself in desire.
She’d damn sure done that, hadn’t she?
He came to her, the same glass in his hand, the fragrant peppermint leaves floating in water she was parched for.
She swallowed greedily, savoring as the liquid sluiced down a throat gone dry, a body wrung out from the fury of their mating. “Thank you. Where is the aspirin?”
“Willow bark contains the same ingredients. I mixed it in.”
She tensed. Exotic poisons… “With what else?”
“Ah, yes…there’s my detective.” A rueful smile curved his lips. “Nothing to harm you. You will awaken in the morning and be perfectly healthy and sound, never fear.” The dark rings around his soft gray irises could not hold all his shadows at bay. “This will ease you and give you comfort.” One finger stroked her face, bringing a sigh to her lips as he traced a pattern over their fullness. “You will sleep deeply.”
Unnerved by the tenderness and sorrow she saw, she resisted the humming of her body, the craving that roared back to life. “You want me to trust you, but you don’t do the same.”
“How would you have me demonstrate it?”
“I want answers, real ones. None of this mystical stuff. Admit that you’ve seen me before, that you…” She grasped at thoughts slipping away like silvery fishes.
“I tried, but you did not want to hear them. You dance around what is between us when lives depend upon it.”
“Lives?” she echoed, but her voice sounded far away.
Then he shifted and in the moonlight, she saw his expression change.
“What’s happening to me?” A tiny tendril of fear arose.
“I am sorry, Justine. You are a danger as long as you cling to your willful ignorance.” His voice turned fierce. “I wish I could find another way, but time is running out.”
She wrinkled her forehead, a low buzz obscuring her ability to think. “I don’t understand.” Her skin felt hot, her body restless. Stirring, she sought out his touch.
Dante pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. When he withdrew, she saw eyes filled with pain.
“You are the key, the Prism, but until you embrace your fate… I should never have touched you. My need for you will make me careless. Vulnerable when I must be strong. Other lives are at stake.”
“Why?” A part of her mind jogged her to move, to escape, but her muscles had become putty. Somehow she couldn’t seem to care. “What—what’s wrong?”
“Easy…” he soothed.
“Let me—I have to…go.” She sought the doorway, but she couldn’t make her legs move.
He lifted her in his arms, and the spinning began again, only this time she couldn’t focus, couldn’t resist, couldn’t…
“It will be all right. I promise you are safe.” She could barely make out a bittersweet smile. “I’ve simply given you a potion to clear away this night. There are things you must not recollect, that you should not have seen, not as long as you refuse to believe me. When you awaken, all this will be lost to you. If you recall anything, it will be sketchy, like the remnants of a dream.”
“You…the stars…when we touch…how can it be real?” Her voice sounded weak, even to her own ears.
“As long as you cling only to logic and the world you can see, what I’ve told you is a danger to you and you are a danger to others. The stakes are higher than you can imagine, and forces of evil are gathering. I cannot wait for you to open your eyes to the truth.” He drew her against him, and she clung, the only stability in a world that made no sense.
“Let go, Justine…relax. You will drift…it will be pleasurable, but you will forget.” His eyes darkened. “A rich irony, since I will remember forever.” Voice mesmerizing and low, he leaned closer. “When you fall asleep, you’ll awaken refreshed.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple, murmuring to her all the while. “Slow, deep breaths…that’s right…let go. Let the night slip away.”
Surely he was wrong…she’d remember this, her senses so alive and responsive to his scent, his touch, his voice?
“Make love to me again, Dante.” Was that her voice, so husky, the low purr of desire?
He shook his head, his face stark with anguish. “No. You do not know what you are saying.” His own voice lowered even more, a rumble of male calling to his mate. “I am many things you cannot understand—refuse to understand—but I am not a man who would do that to you. No matter how much I want it.” Forcibly he drew his gaze from hers. “I must take you home.” He began to walk.
“Was it you, Dante? At The Club? I thought I’d lost my mind…how did you do it? I’ve never been like that before.”
“The smoke comes from incense ground from datura, and the strength increases where the smoke is thickest.”
Her head whirled. “So everyone hallucinates…and the aphrodisiac…” Her voice drifted off with her scattered thoughts. It was so hard to concentrate.
Then memory rose up again. She opened her eyes, staring at him. “You marked me as yours. And we went spinning into that blackness…”
His eyes turned molten steel. “Don’t, Justine.”
“How can you leave me, Dante? How can you turn away?”
“No more questions.” His lips hovered, a breath above hers.
“No—don’t take me home. Don’t steal my memory. I trusted you.” I’ll remember. I swear I will. And I’ll ask him again.
He covered her mouth with his, the kiss a bittersweet benediction, turning hungry, pleading. Both tormented and cherished, Jace drifted off, a low buzz filling her ears.
“Don’t…I want to remember…I need to ask…”
Just before the soft, swirling clouds claimed her, she heard him speak once more, his voice low and haunted. “I can only pray you will open your mind in time, but for now…I am sorry, Justine. This is the only way I can protect you.”