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And her “fascination,” for lack of a better word, was officially freaking her out.
Not knowing much about how Watchmen shifted into the shapes of their beasts, she wanted to ask him where the breathtaking black wings had gone, but bit back the oddly personal question, feeling as if it breached some intimate barrier that she couldn’t cross. Not when he was staring at her as if he couldn’t stop. “Hand me the photo,” she said instead, holding out one hand.
“Why?” His tone was odd…almost wary as he held her stare. For such a testosterone-oozing male, she couldn’t help but notice that he had the most amazing eyelashes, ones that actually cast shadows on his sharp cheekbones.
“Just hand me the photo,” she repeated, snapping her fingers like some kind of commando she-bitch. God only knew she wasn’t making much of a first impression, but she chalked it up to circumstance, seeing as how it’d been a bitch of a night—one that was only just getting started.
Saige took the picture from his grasp when he offered it to her, and the second her fingers touched the paper, she knew he was telling her the truth. Riley had given it to him. Damn it. She hated having to apologize, but knew it was the right thing to do.
Still, the words were tight in her throat as she said, “I’m sorry about what happened back there.” She ended the apology with a pointed look toward his injured brow and tried not to wince.
Instead of accepting, he made a rude, utterly male sound in the back of his throat. “You threw a goddamn bottle at my head, Saige. I don’t think some lame-ass sorry’s gonna cut it.”
She bit her tongue to keep from mouthing off, wanting information more than she wanted to argue—but Quinn had questions of his own. “What can you tell me about Paul Templeton?” he grunted, taking the picture from her and slipping it back into his pocket again.
Saige didn’t recognize the name. “I don’t know anyone named Templeton.”
“He’s the Watchman who was assigned to you,” he explained with a grim expression, rubbing one hand against his shadowed jaw. “And I’ll bet money you knew Paul was trailing you. You must have some idea of what happened to him.”
She shrugged, while a sour feeling slid through her insides. “I honestly don’t know. He just seemed to disappear a few days ago.”
“Christ,” he muttered under his breath, and she wondered if the missing Watchman had been a friend of Quinn’s.
It was ironic, how she’d always taken the Watchmen’s surveillance for granted, never really appreciating it, until this man he called Templeton had vanished. Suddenly, she’d been alone and afraid, reminding her of how she’d felt as a child, when all the men in her life had turned away from her, one by one. After her dad had run out on them, her brothers had been her world, until they, too, had drifted away from her. Ian had run away from home, unable to handle Elaina’s obsession with the family bloodline, and God only knew what had happened to make Riley so resentful. He’d changed after Ian had left, and they’d never been close again.
Turning her attention back to Quinn and the missing Paul Templeton, she said, “I got worried when I could no longer sense him watching me. I’ve been…more cautious than usual the past few days, unsure of what to expect.”
Liar.
Am not, she silently growled back. Maybe that wasn’t the complete truth…but it was a version.
A skinny one that isn’t going to do him a damn bit of good. You need to tell him about the Marker!
From the way he watched her, she wasn’t even sure he was buying it, but when he spoke, he simply said, “We can talk this out later. Right now we need to get on the move. I have a room in São Vicente where we can spend the night.”
“You still haven’t explained what you’re doing here,” she murmured. All the photo had told her was that Riley had asked him to bring her to Colorado, but it’d said nothing about why.
“Like I said, I’m here to get you back. Preferably in one piece.” His tone bristled with impatience, and there was an undercurrent of energy buzzing about him that told her he was completely in tune with the surrounding jungle, reading the signs and aware of any coming danger. “After seeing what happened when they came after your brother, I have no doubt that bastard is going to be gunning for you hard and fast.”
Her stomach dropped, and she wet her mouth, not liking the sound of that. She took a sudden step forward, the distance between them no more than a foot now, bringing the details of his gorgeous face into sharper focus. “What do you mean when they went after my brother?”
Around them, the forest fell silent and still, as if waiting with her in breathless suspense as Quinn quietly said, “He’s already gone through his awakening.”
Saige hadn’t expected the sharp stab of fear that twisted through her middle, along with something that felt uncomfortably like guilt. For a moment all she could do was hold that dark gaze, trying to find some kind of reassurance in it, and then she finally found her voice. “Is Riley okay? What happened? Was he prepared? Please tell me that Ian didn’t throw out the Marker.”
“Riley’s fine,” he told her, watching her closely. “But he wasn’t the one.”
She blinked. “Ian?” she said, her hoarse tone thick with surprise. “Jesus, it was Ian?”
“Yeah, but he’s all right. A little lost at first, but we found him in time to give him the information he needed.”
There was a note of censure in his graveled voice that cut her deeper than she’d have thought possible. After all, it wasn’t that she hadn’t tried to share what she knew with her brothers. Well, maybe not with Ian, but damn it, she’d tried to warn Riley. Not that she’d known then as much as she did now. She’d learned so much since she’d last seen him at their mother’s funeral—things that she’d planned on sharing when she made it back to America, whether he wanted to listen or not.
But time had run out…more swiftly for Ian than it had for her, if what this man claimed was true.
“Of course Ian’s all right,” she said, her voice soft, while her mind churned it over…and over, trying to grasp it. She should have figured it out before. If she hadn’t been so scared, she’d have realized that Riley wouldn’t have had any involvement with the Watchmen, giving Quinn her picture and asking him to come after her, unless something had already happened. And she could just imagine how furious Ian must have been to discover he was the first, considering how he’d always detested any talk about the Merrick. “According to Riley, Ian’s like a cat. He must have nine lives.”
“I imagine he lost a couple during the past few weeks,” Quinn commented dryly. “The thing hunted him down, Saige, targeting some of the women he’d dated. They’re making it personal, striking where it hurts.”
Stunned, she barely managed to scrape out her words. “Are you telling me that it killed human women?”
“Killed is putting it too lightly. It tortured them, and made it a slow, grueling process, just to mess with your brother’s mind.”
“But I thought they would come after us—after the Merrick.” She wrapped her arms around her middle again, somehow trying to hold herself together. “We’re the ones they’re supposed to want. The ones they need.”
“Oh, they’ll come after you,” he rasped, the husky notes of his dark-velvet voice stroking her senses, despite her horror with the situation. “And they’ll do everything they can to screw with your life until they’ve got you.” He shifted closer, making her want to retreat from his intensity…from that piercing gaze and his devastating beauty. “That’s where I come in.”
Her breath caught so hard that her chest ached. “Meaning?”
“Meaning you’re my responsibility now. Wherever you go, I go. I’m not letting you out of my sight, so you might as well get used to it.”
Saige could tell from his tone that he was hardly thrilled by the circumstances. “I didn’t ask for this.”
“Yeah?” he drawled. “Go ahead and ask me how much that matters.”
She was angrier at fate at the moment than with him—but fate wasn’t there to hear her complaints. “Are you always this aggravating?” she demanded, giving him her best glare.
For a split second, a funny expression crossed his chiseled features, and he lifted those mouthwatering shoulders in a wry shrug. “Believe it or not, I’m usually the most easygoing guy around. I guess you just bring out the worst in me.”
“The worst in you, huh?” Lowering her brows, she wondered what she must have done in a past life to have earned such cosmically crappy luck. “Funny how I always seem to have that effect on people.”
“Aggravating or not, I intend to keep you alive, and that thing back there is programmed on to you.” Saige knew what he meant. She’d heard about a Casus’s ability to lock on to a Merrick, as though she were some kind of metaphysical beacon for its hunger. “That’s why we need to get to the safety of Ravenswing, the Watchmen compound in Colorado, as soon as possible.”
Saige shook her head, a new fear quickly taking form, twisting through her like a physical pain as she reached down and grabbed hold of her backpack, hooking it over her right shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere until I’ve checked on Javier.”
Dark brows drew together over darker eyes. “Who?”
“The boy I was with tonight,” she explained, adjusting her hold on the heavy pack. “He lives in Coroza with his brothers, not far from the bar.”
Quinn frowned. “You know he’d be better off if you just stay away from him.”
“But you said yourself that the Casus went after some of the women Ian knew,” she argued. “I need to make sure that Javier made it home okay. Give him enough money to get out of town for a while.”
“Then call him,” he said flatly.
“He and his brothers don’t have a phone,” she explained with a heavy dose of frustration.
He studied her posture, his hard, hypnotic gaze lingering on her face…her eyes, noting her determination. “It isn’t safe for you to go near him, Saige. If they’ve marked him, you’ll be putting yourself in danger again. Just going back into Coroza is a hell of a risk.”
She was going to have to go back into Coroza one way or another, anyway, considering she still had to retrieve the maps from Inez’s safe—but she wasn’t going to explain any of that to Quinn. And at the moment, her only concern was Javier. “You can try to stop me,” she said, “but I’m giving you fair warning. If you do, I’ll stab you in the heart the second you let your guard down, then come back without you.”
She’d expected him to shout at her, but it was quickly becoming apparent that Michael Quinn wasn’t an easy man to predict. Instead of reacting with anger, he actually grinned at her quietly spoken threat, the devilish curve of that hard mouth making her toes curl inside her hiking boots, though she struggled not to show it. “You’re not afraid of me at all, are you?”
She was almost grinning back at him as she said, “Just don’t forget it.”
“I’m not likely to,” he murmured, the heavy look in his eyes making her shiver with awareness. In that moment, she was distinctly aware of their differences. Of his rugged maleness compared to her softer femininity. And yet, she still didn’t feel threatened. Not by Quinn.
No, for some unfathomable reason, she felt safe.
A gentle breeze blew her hair across her face, and she lifted one hand, tucking the wayward strands behind her ear. “I understand the risk, Quinn. But I have to do this. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.”
He held her in his dark gaze as the seconds stretched out like a body being tortured on the rack. Just when she was ready to start arguing in earnest, he blew out a rough breath, and quietly said, “How’s the leg?”
Her leg? Glancing down, Saige noticed the bloodied scratches the Casus had left on her calf. She knew it was a sign of her nerves that the wound wasn’t bothering her. Looking back at Quinn, she said, “It’ll be fine.”
He arched his brows. “Then are we walking or flying?”
Relief hit like a physical blow to her chest, though she tried to hide it. Thinking over his question, Saige listened to the night. She could tell from the distant sound of church bells that the terrifying flight had kept them close to the outskirts of the city, rather than taking them deeper into the jungle. “We’re not far from Coroza,” she murmured. “You can’t very well go flying into town.”
He shrugged, though there was an odd light in his eyes, as if he were teasing her. Not knowing what to make of him, Saige looked to the evening sky for her bearings, then headed west, acutely aware of the man named Michael Quinn following closely beside her…every step of the way. It was an odd, overwhelming sensation, having him so near. And one she wished she didn’t like nearly as much as she did.
Pressing one hand to her stomach, she struggled to push away the unwanted sensations, and reminded herself that her life had just been turned upside down…and would never be normal again.
Not that you did normal all that well anyway, she thought with a frown.
She didn’t know him, and she sure as hell didn’t trust him with her secrets, but as they walked through the verdant beauty of the jungle, Saige couldn’t deny that she was utterly…unusually…and unequivocally fascinated by the dark, intoxicating stranger who’d just landed in her life.
She only wished she had a clue what to do about him.
CHAPTER FOUR
SENSING THE ARRIVAL of a dominant predator, startled wildlife scurried back into the underbrush as Gregory DeKreznick stepped from the thick, humid veil of jungle. Wearing a feral smile, he stalked toward the center of the clearing nestled beside a meandering offshoot of the river, the darkening summer sky shot with fading, violent streaks of purple and pink. A lone wooden hut sat at the north end of the small, cleared patch of dense tropical foliage, a fisherman’s weathered boat propped against its side, testament to the trade of the man who’d lived there, until Gregory had killed him earlier that week. Mere miles from the site where Saige Buchanan had been searching for another of the lost Dark Markers, the meager dwelling had been an ideal location for him and his fellow Casus and so they’d claimed it as their own.
Tonight, the small cabin huddled silent and dark in the moonlight, telling him that at least for the moment, he had the clearing to himself.
Throwing back his wolf-shaped head, the monstrous creature stared up at the infinite, cloud-scarred stretch of night, and allowed his true shape to melt away, pulling back into the body of his human host. Rolling his broad shoulders, Gregory cracked his head to the side with a popping burst of sound, then slicked his chin-length, sun-streaked hair back from his chiseled face, the spattering of blood from the evening’s kills still warm against his skin. Scratching lazily at his chest, he savored the thick, meaty taste of his most recent victims against his tongue, running the tip across the smooth surface of his straight white teeth.
He could have taken Javier Ruiz and used him as bait to draw out his prey, but there’d been no need to go through the hassle when killing him had proven so much more effective. Gregory had gotten what he needed, and as a whole, the Ruiz brothers had been fairly satisfying—though not nearly as sweet as when he feasted on warm, womanly flesh. Men were filling, but females gave him so much more…pleasure, like savoring a fine wine after years of nothing but tepid water.
That was the difference between him and Royce. A team player to the very end, Royce Friesen had been told not to feed from the humans, and so he’d obeyed, drinking the water while Gregory savored the succulent feast. And what a feast it was. He’d hungered for too long while trapped in the holding ground they’d named Meridian. While locked away from the things that made him whole…that made him complete, and no matter what Calder and his followers had told him before his release, Gregory had no intention of obeying their asinine rules.
Friesen, however, lived the servile existence of a good little soldier, only dining on the local livestock. He’d even been warned not to feed from the Merrick bitch until she’d fully awakened—and though it went against everything that the Casus were, the idiot obeyed, following his orders to a T. Even knowing that Gregory grew stronger every day, Royce remained committed to his decision to comply with Calder’s ridiculous dictates, and today it had nearly cost him. They’d trailed Saige Buchanan for hours, expecting her to leave the country once she’d found the second Marker and that milksop of an archaeologist had skipped out, but she’d spent the afternoon scurrying all over town instead. By the time she’d headed toward O Diablo Dos Ángels late in the day, Royce had already gone too long without one of his meager feedings and was growing weak. He’d been forced to travel into the jungle in search of animal prey, leaving Gregory to watch over their target while she visited with her friends at the rustic barra.
Enjoying having her all to himself, without Royce’s irritating presence, Gregory had watched her from afar, biding his time like a shark slowly circling in for the kill, and it had almost paid off. When she’d run into the jungle, he’d thought she’d finally be his…only to have her snatched from his grasp. But he didn’t intend to let it stand.
With a sharp smile of anticipation for the moment he knew would eventually be his, Gregory stretched his arms over his head, aware of the muscles flexing beneath his skin, along with the hard ridges of bone and ropey sinew. For a human, the body he’d taken wasn’t half-bad. Over six foot, with a muscular build, it was better than he’d expected from something that was no better than mere prey, even if the man did have a speck of Casus blood flowing through his veins. When the shades of Gregory’s kind were freed from Meridian, they were required to seek out a human who carried the ancient blood of their ancestors in order to retake a corporeal form. Once taken, the human’s soul was forced from its body. The Casus, however, retained the host’s memories, which enabled them to function in these unusual modern times—and they were thankfully capable of shifting into their true form when needed.
Gregory wondered if Malcolm, his only blood brother and the first to be sent back from Meridian, had enjoyed his freedom this much, then quickly beat down the destructive thought, locking it away with his hatred, where it belonged. It hurt too much to think of Malcolm—of what that eldest Buchanan bastard had taken from him. That was why Gregory wanted his hands on Saige so badly—to show that prick what it felt like to have something taken away, ripped from your life, knowing that you could never get it back.
She might have been “meant” for Royce, but Gregory had no intention of letting the other Casus have her. She’d gotten away from him tonight—but it wouldn’t happen again. No matter what Friesen decided to do next, Gregory had a plan, one that he intended to execute with or without his fellow Casus.
While Royce and the others concerned themselves with securing the crosses and building up their strength in order to bring more of their kind back from Meridian, Gregory cared only for Buchanan blood. After all, it was the Merrick who had trapped the Casus so many years ago, cursing them to a fate worse than death. Because of their immortality, they could not die, and so they’d simply wasted away to mere shades of the powerful beings they’d once been, forced to dwell within human bodies once they’d regained this realm. But it was the eldest Buchanan sibling who had used the first Dark Marker to destroy his brother’s soul, condemning Malcolm to the pits of hell for all eternity. For that, as well as the incarceration of his species, Gregory had vowed to make them pay. The ability to love might not be a common trait for the Casus, but they understood loyalty to family like no other. In a world as vicious as theirs, sometimes it was the only way to survive.
“And Watchman or not,” he rasped with a hard smile, remembering the moment when he’d licked the blood from her leg off his claws, “I’m going to enjoy taking little Saige Buchanan to pieces.”
Rumbling a dark burst of laughter under his breath, he started to step toward the cabin, when a sound to his left snagged his attention, and he tensed, listening…completely alert to his surroundings as readiness spread through his muscles like a sharp, piercing pain. Pulling back his shoulders, he’d just taken a deep pull on the humid air when a solid bulk of muscle and bone rammed into him, slamming him to the damp, moss-covered floor of the clearing. “You wanna explain what happened tonight?” the Casus roared in his face, pinning his forearms to the ground. “I can smell her on you!”
Knowing it would only infuriate Royce further if he remained calm, Gregory casually related the evening’s events, and his comrade took the news as badly as he’d hoped. Concealing the enjoyment he got from seeing Royce so furious, he finally concluded with a solicitous drawl, “You did tell me to keep an eye on her.”
“You incompetent idiot,” Royce seethed, his rage glittering like so many shards of ice in his pale blue gaze. “I told you not to lose her—not to reveal yourself. What did you think you were doing?”
“Exactly what I was bred to do,” he replied with a sharp smile.
Royce’s eyes narrowed with fury. “Don’t push me, Gregory. In future, you stay away from her. If you don’t, I’ll make sure you pay.”
“As fun as this is, get the hell off me, Royce. We both know you can’t kill me.”
The beast lowered its snout, going nose-to-nose with him. “Is that what you think?” it asked silkily, the sinister words warbled within the muzzled shape of its wolflike head. “The only reason Calder allowed you to come through with me was because he considered you too much of a liability back in Meridian and he wanted you gone. And the only reason I agreed to bring you along was because I wanted out of there, and no one else would take responsibility for you. But you lay a finger on Saige Buchanan again, and I’ll kill you myself.”
“And face Calder’s wrath?” Gregory mocked, clucking his tongue.
Royce’s words shook with his anger. “After the screwup Malcolm made of his assignment, don’t think for one second that Calder gives a shit about what happens to you.”
Gregory laughed. “And you think Calder cares any more about you, Royce? The truth is that he doesn’t give a shit about either one of us.”
Shifting back on his haunches, Royce released his hold on Gregory’s arms, eyeing him with a cold, hard stare. “He’s a good leader,” he ground out.
“Just not a very trusting one.” Gregory snorted, hoisting himself up onto his elbows. “Has he told you how he learned to send us across? Hell, he hasn’t even told you how many Markers we’re after, or exactly why we need them.”
Royce moved to his feet in a fluid ripple of powerful muscle, allowing his true form to gracefully slip away, easing back into the shape of his human host. “He has his reasons,” he muttered.
“Sure he does,” Gregory drawled, rolling his eyes. “And at any rate, tonight wasn’t my fault. This was the best chance we’ve had to grab her since she found the Marker. Would you have rather I just let her slip on by?”
“We were only going to grab her if we ran the risk of losing her. Otherwise, we were told to wait until she’s fully awakened.”
“And the Marker?”
“The Marker we could have stolen from her,” Royce growled, his lip curled with disgust. “But now, because of your little stunt, she knows we’re after her, which means she’s going to be guarding it as well as she can.”
“She already knew,” Gregory countered, his brows arched as he stared up from his place on the warm, damp ground. “Why else do you think she’s always looking over her goddamn shoulder? She knows we’re watching her.”
Royce’s mouth tightened, the muscles across his chest flexing with each of his hard, heavy breaths. “Knowing and suspecting are two different things. That Watchman bastard isn’t going to let her out of his sight now. And if he flew, chances are that he’s a bloody Raptor.” Royce glared down at him, his lip curled in an arrogant expression that made Gregory want to tear into him, as slowly and painfully as possible. “So now, thanks to you, we’ve lost her and the Marker.”
“Not exactly,” he offered in a soft rumble of words as he moved to his feet.
Royce paused in the act of turning away, his brow drawn in a deep frown. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that I don’t think she has it. At least not on her.”
