Somewhat.
This little incident sure answered his earlier question. What woman wanted a relationship with a mentally unstable, alcoholic, transient, possible adulterer dragging around a suitcase full of guilt who, oh by the way, had a goddamned cloud demon, or whatever the hell that thing was, threatening him and anyone he hung around with?
As Vaughn galloped up to the main ranch, Garrison ran to open the gate. Farther away, Kerr and Eric bolted out of the house.
"Shelby said something had happened," Garrison called out.
"Fucking monster tried to kill Mariah."
"Son of a bitch."
Vaughn grimaced against the blistering headache. "Just help her down, would you?"
"You bet." As Vaughn unlatched her death grip from around his waist, Garrison tugged Mariah off the horse and eased her to the ground, keeping an arm around her.
Damn it all if Vaughn's power didn't resent his brother touching her. This power, this entire situation, was out of control on so many different levels.
Leaping off the horse, Vaughn then swung her up into his arms and rubbed his cheek against her forehead. "Mariah, it'll be all right."
No answer.
He strode into the house, ice pumping through his veins. The pounding in his chest matched the rhythm of her rattling teeth. She had to be okay.
He eased her into a kitchen chair. Her pupils had gone pinpoint, her eyes wide and lips pale.
"Does anything hurt? What about when you fell?" He chafed her cold hands.
In a jagged, cog-wheeling motion, she shook her head. "What was th-that thing?"
"We don't know, but it wants to destroy us. Shit. Once I know you're all right, I'm taking you home, okay?"
With Odie close behind, Ruth appeared and quickly checked Mariah over. "She's in shock, but her condition is improving. I don't believe anything's broken. Probably some bruises."
Vaughn's own body ached for any injury Mariah had sustained.
"What the hell are we supposed to do?" Garrison gritted out.
Shelby entered on crutches, wincing. She must be receiving a hell of an emotional blast from everyone around her.
Ruth pushed to her feet, studying each of the siblings. "Is this thing what you shot at the other day?"
"Yes, ma'am. We said it was a bear, but it was a... creature. It's also what attacked Shelby and Eric," Vaughn added.
Ruth and Odie exchanged a glance.
"Old news." Garrison smacked the table with his fist. Mariah jumped. "Sorry," he muttered.
Vaughn stood next to her, resting his hand on her upper back, needing the constant connection. He shook his head, trying to clear the static that had affected his hearing since he pushed that thing away. He had to concentrate to make out what everyone was saying. "It said it wanted all of us," he muttered. "Together."
After a resigned shrug from Odie, Ruth cleared her throat. "Maybe together, you all have the ability to destroy that thing. But together, you all are also vulnerable to attack."
"Holy catch-22, Batman. Got any information we can actually use, oh Magic 8 Ball?" Kerr barked what passed for a laugh. Then he stared at the nurse. "Wait a minute. Ruth, it sounds like you know more. Do tell."
She glanced behind her at Odie. "I know things."
Garrison opened his mouth like he wanted to take off the woman's head with his retort, but Shelby interjected, "It's true." Eric hovered while she hobbled over with her crutches and sat down in a chair. "Ruth somehow knew that I could adapt my power to help Eric."
As Vaughn scooted a chair over and sat, draping and arm around Mariah, his power, pulsing, staked out a ten-foot sphere. Ruth and Odie backed away several steps.
Kerr whipped his head up. "Dude, is that what you meant about your ability changing?" He put an arm up like a shield. "Because you need to stop that crap."
With effort, Vaughn tamped down the urge to push the entire world away from Mariah. "Sorry."
Ruth backed up another few steps, Odie holding her hand.
"Oh no, Ruth, you're not getting away without explaining what you know," Garrison said.
The woman pressed her lips together. Finally, she said, "What I shared with you is based on things I've seen before and conjecture from past research."
Garrison shook his head. "Research? Who the hell researches this kind of stuff? We need more information. Have you seen that thing before?"
"No," she said. "We've just heard about things like this... elsewhere."
A red-faced Garrison took a step toward her.
Odie held up his hand. "Stop, my friend. We don't know anything else, other than whatever's out there is scary."
The Taggarts couldn't strong-arm these two people to spill—they'd simply leave. Then Dad wouldn't have the help he needed.
"Okay, guys. Got it," Vaughn said, studying Mariah's face as her color improved. "Look, we won't take care of that... thing... tonight. In fact, it seems to want all of us together for some reason. It's best if we aren't in the same space. Too much of a temptation for that thing."
"We can't separate, though," Kerr said. "We have to protect the ranch."
Shelby rubbed the bridge of her nose. "How well is that plan working?"
Garrison dropped his fist on the tabletop. "Son of a bitch. He's right. We have to separate."
"Yeah. For now, let's make sure no more than three of us are here at the same time," Vaughn said. "I'm leaving with Mariah and staying with her tonight. You all do what you need to, and we'll caucus tomorrow."
"Got it," Garrison said, scowling over at Ruth.
"Mariah?" Vaughn murmured.
She looked him square in the face. "I'd like to go home," she whispered.
"That's the plan. You okay to walk?" He tugged her to stand, understanding now why Eric hovered next to Shelby. It killed Vaughn to see Mariah hurt and scared, and he'd do anything to prevent that from happening again.
Anything? Yes.
"I'm okay. I'm fine." She pasted a tiny and bland smile on her face as she headed toward the back door, her steps stiff and halting. "Just fine."
Fine? Not even close. He helped pull her coat closed.
If Vaughn had any doubt as to whether Mariah wanted to take on this extra-special bonus pile of crap that accompanied a future with him, no question remained now. She stumbled on the snow-covered gravel, and, prompted by a flare of his ability, he caught her under an elbow before she hit the ground.
She flinched.
In the late afternoon, the sun was setting behind gray clouds. He scanned the ranch property. Nothing out of place now.
But that could change.
If things got worse, Mariah would suffer.
Pausing before he opened the driver's side door of the truck, he centered himself, like he did before a fight. Only he wasn't going into an MMA bout.
What he was going to do tonight would be much harder.
Chapter 31
Mariah sat stiffly in the front seat as he maneuvered the pickup down the miles of ranch road, the ride made rougher by the frozen ground. God, it was taking forever to get back to her house.
She glanced at Vaughn and rolled her hands into fists. Damn him for... everything. She bit her lip. Maybe that wasn't completely fair.
Which pissed her off more? The fact that, for a second, she had considered jumping into Vaughn's mess of a life? Or the fact that no human should have as many bad things to deal with as Vaughn did?
And how about the part where he had created some kind of bizarre mind-meld. She hadn't signed on for that.
Peering out the window, she imagined that shadows grew into dark shapes with evil, red dots for eyes. Despite the insulation of her coat, she tucked her chin into the material and shoved her hands into pockets. Damn these shivers. She couldn't seem to warm up.
"More heat?" His voice pierced the silence, making her jump.
"I'm fine."
A muscle jumped on his jaw. "Yeah. Fine. Obviously." His clipped statement popped her like an emoti
onal rubber band on tender skin.
They lapsed into an uneasy quiet, with the rumble of the truck as the background noise.
Man, she picked a winner in Vaughn, hadn't she?
That question made her as sad as the answer.
The worst part was that, sure, he had made some mistakes in the past. No question. But none of what happened today was his fault. None of it.
Could she stick with him, despite his literal demons and the fact that he might still leave town?
Maybe it was better to plan for a future devoid of Vaughn.
The issue wasn't the life-altering sex. It had nothing to do with the fact that she felt safer in his arms than she ever had anywhere else in her entire life. It wasn't that, despite their differences, they fit together like the perfect puzzle pieces.
Heck, they'd only known each other for a week.
But it felt like years.
In only a week, she'd caught glimpses of what it would be like to have a partner who cared for her but also would go to the mat for her. Literally.
Oh God, what was she going to do?
Balling her hands into fists in her coat pockets, she forced herself to take in a long, slow lungful of air, hold it for four seconds, then slowly let it out, using her go-to breathing exercise when stress became unbearable. She cycled through the breaths again, willing her shoulders and back muscles to relax when she exhaled.
He pulled the truck into her driveway.
Shoving the truck door open, she hurried to the porch, unlocked the front door, and paused. The sun was setting, and behind her, Vaughn's face fell into shadow. It would hurt, but she needed time alone to process everything.
"Well, thank you for the ride home."
"You're welcome." He didn't move but instead took up space between Mariah and the entire universe outside the house. Like he wanted to prevent anything from reaching her. Didn't work before, why should it work now?
"Um, so you have a good night," she tried again. Surely he would get the hint.
"I'm not going anywhere. That is," his voice dropped, "if you'll let me stay here with you."
Adrenaline shot through her limbs. "With me? Like last night?"
Heat flared as he met her gaze. "No. I can't imagine you want me that close to you, much less touching you." He chopped a hand through the air, stopping her protest before it left her mouth. "But that thing is still out there, and no way am I leaving you alone."
"But—"
His voice, a low gravelly sound, shredded her. "And as soon as I make sure you will not be hurt because of all my... bad stuff... I'll get out of your hair for good. I know you don't want anything to do with me after all that happened. I can't blame you."
"No, Vaughn. I don't think that."
"Then you're an idiot."
His words landed like a jab to the jaw, and she reeled backward a step. "What?"
"Hey, if you don't want me in your house, I won't argue. I can stay in the truck all night." He rubbed his temple. "But I need to be close."
"Is that you or your mental power talking?"
"Both."
Another shiver hit her, and she motioned him into the living room, flipping on the light. He took off his hat and stood a few inches inside the house but didn't move. The stark expression took her breath away.
No way could she ask him to guard her for the night. "Listen. I don't mind you staying here, but I'm sure I'll be fine."
He barked a laugh. "Fine."
"Yeah, fine."
"You weren't fine when that thing reached for you. Hell, you could have broken your neck falling off the back of that horse."
She stepped in front of him. "But I'm okay now."
With a rough knuckle, he brushed her aching jaw where she'd hit the ground. She flinched.
"Obviously."
"I'm not a fragile piece of china, you know."
"Hell yeah, I know you're tough as nails." He shoved his hand through his hair, giving him a wild appearance. "Even the biggest, baddest person in the world might not be able to stand up to whatever was out there tonight."
"That creature wasn't your fault, Vaughn."
"Wasn't it? Maybe not, but it was my fault that it got close enough to hurt you. And you'd better believe I won't make that same mistake again."
Her nerves sparked, irritating her skin, followed by a fleeting headache. "Hey, are you doing that psychic protective thing again?"
"Maybe. Why?"
The pieces fell together. "Because every time you do it, I get a headache. That's why I thought I was getting migraines over the past week. That's so strange."
"Well, let's ice that crappy cake." He entered the house behind her, slammed the door, and then leaned against it, hands rolled into fists and head hanging low. "An even more fucking fabulous side effect. If I leave you alone, you might get hurt. If I'm here with you, my presence will cause you pain. Damn it." He thumped his chest hard, like a bass drum. "I am sorry for everything, Mariah."
A virtual wave broke on top of her, pushing her underwater. "Everything?" she whispered.
"Listen to me." She had to strain to hear him. The words barely escaped his clenched jaw. "I would never trade what we had together last night for anything in the world. But somehow, because of our connection, it puts you square in the crosshairs of god-knows-what. Even worse, the simple act of being near me causes you pain. If anything happens to you, I'm not sure if I could live with myself."
Hot bubbles burst in her head; she blinked back tears. "So you're taking the blame for something you had no control over?"
"Well—
She crossed her arms. "Hush. I'm not done." His mouth gaped open. "When will you get it? You can't control everything that happens in life. You can't dictate someone's feelings. You can't make people behave in a certain way. We have no power over choices that other people make. Hell, I know that as well as anyone, with my past. So get it through your thick skull. None of this is your fault."
"Mariah." It sounded like the word had been ripped from his soul.
Lifting a hand, she shook her head. "Know what? I'm done talking. You want to wallow in self-pity and blame? Be my guest. But don't make me a party to it." She pointed. "In the hall closet, there's bedding for the sofa couch, if you'd like. Take whatever food you want from the fridge and pantry. I'm done for the night."
"But what about...?
"Your past?" she snapped. He reared back. Good. Maybe this gut-wrencher of a chat would shake him out of his self-pity. "You know what? You're right. People make bad decisions. Sometimes they make horrible ones. You can't fix what happened in the past. But you sure as hell can learn from it and become better for it. So, yes, I'm disappointed by some of your past, but I am judging the man in front of me today. Got it?"
"I'm sor—"
"If you complete that statement, I cannot be held responsible for what I do." She ignored the quirk at a corner of his mouth before she walked away. Spinning back, she pointed at her temple. "And for at least a minute, could you stop whatever the hell you're doing that involves my head? If the Tylenol doesn't fix this headache, you're going to have hell to pay. Now, let me get some rest. I have to work tomorrow."
Slamming the door to her bedroom satisfied her for all of ten seconds, until she sank to the bed and dropped her head in her hands. Never had she said things like that to anyone before. Should she apologize? Not yet.
Let him think about it.
She pulled on pajama pants and a tank top and crawled into her cold, empty bed.
Tomorrow she'd reassess where things stood and decide whether her heart could handle another try at a relationship with Vaughn or not.
Chapter 32
Vaughn woke with a start, his temples throbbing, and immediately scanned the living room. "Christ." When had he fallen asleep?
A noise came from her bedroom. Danger. Mariah.
He flew from the couch to her bedroom door, following the pulse of fear that sent his power dials to eleven. Easing the door
open, he readied for a fight.
She thrashed on the bed, mumbling, her hair sticking to the sweaty skin of her face. He scanned the room and used the light from his cell phone to check under the bed and in the closet. Nothing that could hurt her.
Except him, of course.
He turned to go but couldn't do it. He could not leave her here, alone, scared.
Fuck him. Fuck everything.
He padded in socked feet to the side of the bed and knelt. "Mariah?" He rocked her shoulder until her eyes fluttered open.
"Vaughn?" Her voice cracked. "You're here." The words came from her lips like a prayer, and she clamped her hand down on his wrist. "Please."
"Anything, sweetheart. Please what? I'll do whatever you need me to." Except leave her vulnerable to attack by that creature.
As if she knew exactly how to break him, she whispered, "Stay with me."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"Yes." She guided his hand to her cheek and nuzzled it.
Damp. Her skin wasn't sweaty. Those were goddamned tears. Guilt flayed him alive.
"You... you really want me here? After everything?"
Even with the midnight shadows, he spied her frown. "Unless you're not comfortable being around me..."
"Oh, hell no," he said. "I want to be here more than anywhere in the world."
"Then yes. Please." She tugged on his arm until he crawled over her and slid under the blankets. He rested on his side, head propped on a hand, other arm making a triangle over her torso.
In the low light, the glow of the smooth skin of her chest and neck turned his tongue to sand. How the hell would he get through this night? Damn it, didn't matter. He'd keep his hands off and watch over her if that was required of him.
She sat halfway up, a tank top-covered breast brushing against his arm and making him rethink that vow to maintain his distance. "Vaughn. I need..."
"What? Anything."
"I—" She pressed her lips to his.
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