He flew to her in an instant, wrapped his hands around her throat and slammed her into a nearby tree so hard the trunk cracked. He growled—a sound that scared even him. “I should rip your head off. I bet that would shut you up.”
“You don’t have the spine.”
He glared at her, his fingers tightening. He could practically feel the release it would give him, to tear her head off and toss her broken body into the ocean. “I’m not going to say this again, so listen. The Dylan you knew—the monster you created—is gone. Forever.” He pressed against her, with all of his strength. “I live in this world, now. I am never going back to that prison.”
“Then you’ll die.”
“I’d say it’s about time, wouldn’t you?” He let go of her with a shove and stepped back, struggling to control himself. “If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you.”
***
This time, when Morrigan answered the door to her hotel room, Jared barged in without waiting for an invitation. He clenched and unclenched his fists, futilely trying to calm himself.
“Where the hell have you been?”
She raised an eyebrow as she shut the door. “I have to answer to you, now?”
“I’ve been calling you for days.” He pointed to her cell phone on the table. “You can’t take ten seconds to call back?”
“I’ve been really busy. It’s this thing called work.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. You’re seeing someone else.”
She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is that what you think?”
“What would you think? You ask me over for a booty call, and then I don’t hear from you again until you’re ready.”
She moved her head from side to side, stepping forward. “Baby, it’s not like that—“
“Don’t.” He put his hand up to stop her. “Don’t pout. Don’t try to change the subject. Don’t try to seduce me.”
“Then what do you want?” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at him through her eyelashes.
The angry thoughts bounced around in his head. He wanted to yell at her, accuse her of every sordid thing he could think of. Worse than that, he wanted to have sex with her again. She was a drug, and he was hooked.
“I want you to act like you give a damn! I want you to stop screwing with my head just because you can.”
“I’m not trying to.” She moved forward before he could stop her. Reaching out, she stroked his temple with her fingertips. The caress sent a flood of pleasure through his skull that vibrated down his body. “I care about you, Jared. I really do.”
He pushed her away and stepped back at the same time, refusing to be seduced. Her mind games might work on other guys, but he was stronger than that. At least, he hoped, if he told himself that enough times, it would become the truth. “You don’t. How could you treat me like this if you cared?”
“Please…” She rushed toward him again, and he recoiled as if she were on fire.
“Don’t touch me!” He cried, his voice echoing louder than he’d expected and reminding him how pathetic he’d gotten. “Sex isn’t going to get you out of this argument. Not this time.”
“That’s what you think of me?” Her eyes filled with tears, and her lips drew together in a pout. “You think I use sex to get what I want?”
He couldn’t take it anymore. Her sexy body in that little red dress, her luscious lips, her sultry eyes. Every part of her body begging for him. How was he supposed keep his hormones at bay, when she was irresistible?
He shoved her back onto the bed, with more force than he felt comfortable using. He climbed on top of her, kissing her neck and throat as he tore her dress down the middle. He clawed at her skin, and she scratched her nails across his back in a gesture that said he wasn’t out of line.
And for one night, he pretended he was in control. But when he woke the next morning and found her gone, he knew that he’d been played.
***
“With everything that’s going on, I don’t know how you expect me to sleep.”
Dylan sat down on the edge of Mykaela’s bed. “I know you’re worried, but you need your rest.”
“It’s all so confusing.” She picked at her fingernails. “It’s like everything I’ve ever known has been a lie.”
“You had a right to know,” he agreed. “Try to cut your family some slack. It’s not easy to drop this kind of bomb on someone.”
She rubbed her hand over the fur of the kitten on her lap. “I know. You’re right. Why are you always right?”
He grinned. “Years of experience.”
“What’s it like?” she asked. “Being alive for so long?”
“It’s a mixed blessing.” He crawled up to the head of the bed to sit next to her, then wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him. “On one hand, everything gets old and dull and you start to pray for death.” He traced a small circle around her shoulder. “But, if I hadn’t done what I did, become what I became, I wouldn’t be with you.” He pressed his lips against the top of her head. “And I wouldn’t trade that for the world.”
She squeezed him tight. “I have this horrible feeling. Like this won’t last.”
He said nothing, only held her with his firm, but cold, arms.
She could hear it in what he didn’t say. He held the same doubts, the same fears. Pressing her lips against his, she told him what she felt without saying a word.
He kissed her back, trailing his fingertips up her arms. He wrapped his hands around her wrists and pushed her back a little. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he said softly, brushing a few stray hairs away from her face.
She looked up at him, concerned at the weight in his voice. “What is it?”
His eyes moved to take in her features—his hand moved up her back. He parted his lips, then closed them again. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said. “I wasn’t always…good.”
“Dylan, I don’t care.” She touched her fingers to his cheek. “It’s who you are now that counts.”
He shook his head. “You say that, but you don’t know.” He tore his gaze away from her face. “I have to go.”
“What?”
He gently pushed her away from him, then darted off the bed.
“Dylan, wait—"
“Mykaela, please.” He whirled around to face her, looking desperate for the first time since she’d met him. “I have to go.”
He didn’t wait for her to reply before he slipped out the bedroom door. She stared after him, completely baffled.
***
The next morning, Mykaela was walking toward the mailbox, when she saw Brad standing in front of his truck.
She stopped in her tracks, eyeing him up and down. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk.” He looked around the house, for Dylan, she assumed. “With you. Alone.”
“That worked out so well the last time.” She went to the mailbox, aggravated to find it empty. “Look, I’m busy, and you tried to kill my boyfriend.”
He rolled his eyes and slid his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Your boyfriend is dangerous. You would know that if you knew what he can do.” He cocked his head to the side. “But you don’t really know him that well, do you?”
She clenched her teeth and turned away from him, starting toward the house.
“Look, I don’t want to fight with you.” He jogged to catch up and then stepped in front of her. He sighed, and put his hands up in surrender. “I know you have no reason to trust me, and I wouldn’t blame you if you never talked to me again. But, I need you to understand, your boyfriend isn’t on our side.”
“We’re not on the same side.”
“We’re supposed to be.” His eyes squinted into an aggravated glare. “You’re human—he’s a monster. I don’t see why that’s so difficult for you to understand. You should be running away from him, screaming, not jumping into his bed.”
>
She scoffed, her nose wrinkling in disgust as she shoved him out of her way. “Wait, wait. Just take this.” He pulled out a dagger. “It’s a special type of glass.”
“I know what it is,” she said, recognizing the teal color. “How did you get it?”
“I looked,” he said. “It’s not easy to find glass made by a Soul of the Sea, but it’s the only thing that will kill one. Using their own power against them is the only sure way to kill monsters. You should be able to protect yourself with the knife, should you ever become a target.”
She eyed the knife, then sighed and looked up at him. “Thanks.”
He nodded once. “You’re welcome.”
As she watched him walk back to his truck, she tucked the knife into the back of her jeans.
***
Inside the Inn, Dylan cleaned one of the guest rooms. He’d left the door open—as Mykaela’d instructed when she trained him, but as he tucked the corner of a fitted sheet under the queen-sized mattress, he heard the door slam shut.
He glanced up, to see Jared with his arms crossed, propped against the door. Jared’s face was grim, angry, and his muscles were taut.
“Hey,” Dylan said cautiously. With Mykaela’s family history, he suspected Jared was one of the Hunters Morrigan mentioned. Being in such close proximity to one of them, with no exit, made him nervous. To the Hunters, it didn’t matter that Dylan chose not to kill. They didn’t care that Dylan wasn’t interested in the powers he could get by draining souls. All that mattered to them was that he wasn’t human anymore.
“I talked to Mykaela,” Jared said, his voice eerily calm.
“She told me.”
It took a lot to scare Dylan; being alive a century can build bravery, but there was something about Jared that frightened him. He sensed that underneath the witty remarks and laid-back attitude the other man normally possessed, there was a dangerous side waiting for an excuse to break out. Dylan didn’t want to challenge that side.
“There’s just one thing that doesn’t make sense.” Jared crossed his legs at the ankles, leaning all of his weight against the door. “Why’d you save her life?”
Of all the things Dylan expected to hear, that question wasn’t one of them and it made him want to laugh. Why save her? Why not save her? “She didn’t deserve what was happening to her.”
“Why would you care if she didn’t deserve it? You’ve killed people. They didn’t deserve it.”
Dylan rolled his eyes, turning away. Walking over to the window, he looked out at the ocean that’d ruined his life and cursed his soul. “No amount of apologizing will ever atone for what I’ve done. If that’s what you’re looking for, you’re wasting your time. I can’t take it back. The guilt is something I’ll have to live with for the rest of my…unnatural life.”
“I’m touched, really,” Jared said sarcastically. “Now, honestly. Why’d you do it? Is it some kind of game? Do you get some kind of sick thrill out of getting a teenager to fall for you and then killing her?”
Dylan’s head snapped to look at him. “I told you. I wasn’t going to watch her die. And I’m definitely not going to kill her.”
“So, I’m supposed to believe that you’re an evil creature that’s not evil.”
“Believe what you want.” He shrugged, trying to cover his fear, but his palms sweated.
“Okay, fine. Let’s pretend I buy what you’re saying.” Jared started toward him, his boots making heavy clunking sounds on the floor. “Why get involved with Mykaela?”
“That wasn’t supposed to happen.” Dylan kept his gaze out the window, on the ocean, watching the blue ridges of the water fight against each other. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Didn’t mean to?” Jared laughed in disbelief. “She’s seventeen. She’s practically a child. And you’re how old?”
He didn’t want to answer that question—it wouldn’t make the situation look any better. “Eighteen.”
“You know what I mean,” Jared said, his voice sounding irritated. “When were you born?”
“1839,” Dylan said reluctantly. Studying a large crevice in a panel of the wooden floor, he felt humiliated, ashamed and dirty. He wished he could slip into that crack and disappear. Then he remembered Mykaela. Kind, sweet Mykaela. If only she knew she gave him a reason to exist.
With his peripheral vision, he saw Jared’s eyes widen and his mouth drop open in a gape. “You’re a hundred and seventy-two years old?” He rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a small groan. “God, that’s sick.”
Dylan wondered if Jared knew how old his girlfriend really was. Morrigan’s first prey had been the men of Ancient Greece. He wanted to tell Jared who she really was, and what she’d been doing, but he knew Jared would never believe him. Before he could tell him, he needed to gain Jared’s trust or collect solid evidence, and he figured finding proof would be easier.
Jared was silent for what felt like ages. With a sigh, he regained his posture—crisscrossing his arms and staring Dylan down. “Here’s the deal. Break it off and I’ll let you leave town alive.”
Dylan lifted his head, making eye contact. His fear disappeared to be replaced with dread. Leave Mykaela? He’d considered it, sure, and every time he thought about it, his heart broke. “No.”
Jared set his jaw, gritting his teeth as he stepped forward. “I’m being nice here. I should kill you right now, but I can’t do that without tearing her heart out, and she’s lost enough.” He lowered his voice, speaking in a conspirator’s whisper. “If you walked away, said goodbye, she’d be hurt. Yeah, she’d mope a little. She’d be sad for a couple weeks, but eventually she’d get over it.”
“I can’t leave until I stop the murders.”
“My job. Not yours.”
How could he make Jared see that he couldn’t walk away from her? Even though he knew it was the best solution, the only way to protect her, he couldn’t do it. “No.” Shaking his head, Dylan eyed him down the same way Jared did to him.
Jared sank against the windowsill, chuckling at Dylan’s stupidity.
“I know it’s wrong,” Dylan said, his voice shaking. He didn’t want to spill his guts to Jared—to tell Mykaela’s brother how much he loved her when even she didn’t know. His instincts told him that feelings didn’t mean a thing to Jared, anyway. Still, he tried. “I know it’s weak, and selfish. But I can’t leave her. I’d rather die.”
“Let’s get one thing straight. I’m doing this for her, not you. I don’t care whether you live or die. But, I won’t be the one to break her heart.” Jared straightened up, bringing his face close to Dylan’s as his voice took a warning tone. “If you hurt her—one hair on her head.” His brown eyes were cold, hard, and Dylan could see the danger he’d sensed flicker behind them. “There won’t be a place in this world you can hide.”
***
Dylan found Mykaela in the sea cave. She sat on the ledge with her face buried in her tucked up knees. He could see her shoulders rise and fall, and soft crying sounds echoed through the cave over the sounds of the rain.
“Mykaela?” He approached her slowly and sat down beside her. “What’s wrong?”
She looked up and wiped her face with her palm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“It’s okay.” Reaching a finger out, he wiped a tear she missed. “What’s wrong?”
“Everybody’s against us.” She leaned her head back against the stone wall. “Jared is being so unreasonable, and Brad’s gone mad in his search for vengeance. They keep threatening to kill you, no matter how much I try to tell them you’re different.”
“I talked to Jared. It’s going to be okay.”
She looked up at him, her eyes blinking to hold back tears. “What did he say?”
He hesitated—how could he tell her what Jared said and ease her mind at the same time? Knowing the details of their conversation wouldn’t comfort Mykaela, it would just make her worry more. “Let’s just say I’m on a trial basis.”
/>
She sighed, but it sounded more like a sob. “What about Brad? Jared might come around, but there’s no getting through to Brad.”
“I won’t let them hurt me.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, squeezing it tight. “I’ve been dodging Hunters for over a century; I can handle a couple newbies.”
“What if you can’t?” Her lip trembled as if she might cry again. “What if they kill you? I couldn’t live with myself.”
Something in the air shifted. The romance they’d experienced in this place seemed to disappear. “What are you saying?”
She took a deep breath, raising her head to the dark, cloudy sky visible through the hole in the roof of the cave. “We can try to hide, we can try to fight, but it all comes down to the same answer, and we keep ignoring it.”
He watched her, unable to move. What was she getting at? He wished she would stop staring at the sky, stop biting her lip, and just tell him what she meant. It felt like forever before she spoke.
“When Jared said he took an oath to kill your kind, I vowed not to let him, or any other Hunter.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “But, I’m not a fighter, and I’m not a Soul of the Sea. I don’t have any powers or skills and I haven’t been training for this my whole life like they have.” Taking a deep breath, she finally turned to look at him. “The only way I can protect you is to let you go.”
He stared at her as if she spoke another language.
“Go to the Midwest; surround yourself with as much land as possible. And forget about me.”
“You don’t mean that.” He brought his hand up to caress her face, but she stopped him, pushing his hand away. Staring at her, he swallowed hard over a lump of tears forming in his throat. He glanced up at the opening on the ceiling of the cave. Rain beat down mercilessly, disturbing the waters below in giant ripples. “It’s quite the rainstorm we’re having.”
Soul of the Sea Page 16
