The Keepers: Declan
Page 6
CHAPTER EIGHT
Everything inside Kate cautioned her against trusting this man. He was a Bennett, and stood for everything she’d been taught to fear.
He wasn’t evil, but he still frightened her. Whether that was the Keeper in him or the man, she wasn’t sure, but something told her that Declan was all trouble. He had a noble, untamed look to him that hinted at a bad boy image. Dark eyebrows and sinfully long eyelashes. Jet-black, dishevelled hair that almost touched his shoulders. His expressive blue eyes stared at her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. The man was breathtaking.
Despite her best efforts, he’d found her and wanted answers. And now that he knew why Harper wanted her, there was no way in hell he’d let her go. She couldn’t blame him. After all, he had his own family; his own people to protect.
But who was protecting her?
Since her mother’s death, so much had changed. What was once a quiet life was now overrun with fear, confusion, and the supernatural. Images of Harper and his followers came to mind and she felt herself cringe. After what she’d witnessed, she had a lot to learn and the danger was far worse than she’d ever imagined.
It terrified her.
Her mother’s hastily scribbled letter had sparked so many questions but it had led her to the daggers. To the Bennett brothers. So maybe she’d lead with that.
But something tugged inside, feeding her fear. She hadn’t trusted many people in her life growing up and after her mother’s death, she was even less inclined. She glanced outside, took in the bright morning sun; a new day and a new chase. A trickle of apprehension ran down her spine, along with a fresh urge to run.
“Fine,” she said with a brief nod and went into the kitchen. “If I’m going to share dagger details with you, I’m going to do it with coffee. Want some?”
When in doubt, add caffeine. Or alcohol, but as the sun’s rays were still fresh across the lake, she figured that coffee would be the better option.
“Sure, thanks.”
Kate opened the cupboard to remove two mugs and turned to the counter, keeping her back to him. Reaching into the drawer, she removed a spoon and some powdered herbs before assembling the drink.
“So how come I never noticed you following me?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder. Declan was peering through the blinds, looking at the lake. Satisfied that he was preoccupied, she tipped a portion of herbs into his mug and stirred.
Naughty but necessary.
“Stealth mode is one of my talents.”
Judging from the thick wall of muscles, his height and broad shoulders, she wondered how that was even possible. “Sure it is.”
His eyes narrowed briefly at the sarcasm in her tone but he left it at that. “How do you know about the daggers?”
Kate walked around the kitchen counter and handed him the coffee, ignoring the pang of guilt. His nod of thanks was brief, followed by a half smile as he took a sip. “After my mother died, I found a letter in her Grimoire urging me to find them.”
“Your mother knew about them?”
“According to her, they’d protect me.”
“From Harper?”
“From everyone.”
He nodded, not bothering to challenge her comment.
“Is that why you sought him out?”
When she didn’t reply, he discarded his mug. Closing the gap between them, he turned her to face him. Her instincts yelled at her to step back, out of the reach of the man who could rewire her senses, but she fought the urge and met his gaze.
“Why are you holding back from me, Kate?” he asked, his gentleness in stark contrast to his previous ferocity in fighting off their attackers. “I won’t harm you.”
“But you won’t let me go either, will you?”
“You know I can’t.” His words were barely more than a whisper, tugging at her defences. “But you’ll be safer with me than with Harper.”
She stared at him in silence, caught by the urge to trust him but knowing she shouldn’t. Her mother had ingrained it in her as a child. Trust no one. Depend on no one. Especially if they were from the supernatural world.
He dipped his head, his brows drawn together in a frown. “You really think you can take on Harper alone?”
“Declan, this is my mess. My problem. We’re not exactly on great terms and I don’t need a White Knight to sweep in and fix this.”
“Honey, you have the wrong brother. There’s nothing White Knight about me. But Harper supports the Brogans, and if he’s after a Null, it means he’ll use you to destroy us.”
“Is that why you want me? To use me to destroy him?”
His brief flinch hinted that she’d struck a chord. Declan placed his hands on her shoulders as she was about to step back. “We protect the innocent. We don’t hurt for the fun of it like Harper. You saw what he did to that witch because she wouldn’t join his cause.”
“I refuse to be the pawn in this game.”
“It’s not a game and you have no choice. Your magic has made you the most powerful weapon in this damned war. I’ve lost too many people in this fight.” His expression hardened, resentment flickering in eyes coloured with sadness. “You’re in a whole lot of shit, Kate Carrigan, but either way, you’re coming with me.”
She shrugged off the flash of fear sparked by his statement. “Fine,” she replied in a casual tone. She hoped like hell she’d used enough herbs. “You win, Declan.”
Right.
****
Declan didn’t reply and blinked in an attempt to clear the fog in his head. Damn, exhaustion had ripped through him like the Road Runner on a mission. Considering he was with a gorgeous woman, albeit a thief, sleep should be the last thing on his mind.
He must be losing his touch. If Kate couldn’t keep him awake, then not much else would. She was a real beauty, and a tough one at that. With her sheen of dark hair, big brown eyes, slender curves, and the flush of temper that reared in her cheeks when she was angry, Kate was incredible.
And he was having a hard time reminding himself that he was still mad at her.
“Where did you get the scroll?” he asked, giving a quick shake of the head.
“The scroll?”
“Yes, witchy. You left it behind when you attacked me.”
“You attacked me. And don’t call me witchy.”
“I call it like I see it. Either way you left behind a scroll that has Sienna in a frenzy. What does it mean?”
“I have no idea.”
“Do you …” He paused, frowning as his senses prickled the way they always did when something wasn’t right.
“Declan?”
He held out a hand to silence her and moved toward the sliding door. Stepping out, he did a quick scan of the area, his heightened hearing straining for something that didn’t fit.
Silence dulled his suspicions and he turned back to her, only to grab onto the door as the room began to tilt.
Shit.
Dizziness took over and he drew in a ragged breath, blinking as everything went blurry. What the hell?
“It’s okay,” Kate said, coming closer. “You’ll be okay.”
“What did you do?” he grumbled, stumbling toward the couch.
She dropped to his side, a hand on his arm. He wanted to throttle her. Every deceitful, beautiful damn inch of her. “It’s a sedative.”
“Bitch!”
When he reared forward, the room began spinning and she pushed him back down. “Easy, warrior boy. Sleep it off.”
“You roofied me? Like a damn drunk sorority chick?”
“I had no choice.”
“If you wanted to have your way with me, all you had to do was ask.”
A brief laugh escaped her but she was quick to reel it in. “That’s not what this is about!”
Declan’s reply was forgotten as his instincts bristled. He turned away, staring at the porch outside.
“Declan?”
He shook his head again, focusing on the noise. Wha
t was that? Declan looked at her, grimacing against the black cloud that threatened to swallow him. “You’re insane, you know that?”
“I have to leave and I can’t have you following me again. This was the only way.”
“I’m going to hunt you down, Kate, and when I find you, I’m going to feed you to Harper myself.” His instincts rumbled a clear warning to him, this time unmistakable in its strength and accuracy. He knew when to trust them and he knew trouble when it was brewing. His hand shot out and gripped her arm. “Kate, you have to run.”
She flinched, a frown creasing her brows.
“Run.”
She swatted his hand. “Declan, you’re in no shape for that right now.”
Declan brought up both arms as the darkness beckoned, pulling her toward him with as much strength as he could muster. “They’re here. Run!”
****
The air whooshed out of Kate as if he’d struck her. She reeled back just in time to see the front door burst open in an explosion of splintering wood.
Megan stood at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a skin-tight black suit, her legs planted firmly apart.
“Go, dammit” Declan grunted, swaying as he struggled to his feet.
Kate stared at the witch, taking in her smug smile and penetrating gaze. If Megan was here, her warrior partners wouldn’t be far. Too many of them. And Kate had just debilitated the one man who could help her.
And put him in danger.
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Declan,” she whispered, almost choking on the panic that surged through her. “I didn’t think they’d find me so soon.”
The windows exploded, the screech of shattering glass ripping through the house. Declan lunged for Kate, shielding her body with his.
Crushing her beneath his weight, he didn’t budge, simply pegged her with a dark stare, his hands gripping her shoulders. He whispered something under his breath as intense heat flooded through her, almost scalding her from the inside out. Gulping for air, she pushed him away.
“You have to get out of here.” Declan pulled back, breaking the connection. The release of heat was instant. They rose, his movements unsteady. Kate bit down on the guilt.
“Go, dammit!” he snapped, shoving her away.
“I can’t leave you here.”
“Now you decide to play fair?”
“This is different,” she replied, turning to face Megan.
The witch grinned and began to channel more energy at Kate. The house began to shake violently, two sliding doors shattering in response.
Fear slammed home and Kate stood her ground. Glaring at the witch, she drew on her defensive powers that would nullify the magic bristling around them.
Kate barely flinched as heat pooled in her stomach, her survival instincts stronger than her hatred of the foreign magic. The confrontation was intense but didn’t last long. Kate sensed Megan’s resistance crumble and she concentrated on absorbing the witch’s energy, immobilizing it.
If only it wasn’t temporary.
“Kate!” Declan grunted, fury twisting his expression.
She whirled around as Max and Rick stepped through the broken sliding doors, glass crunching beneath their boots.
Spotting Declan, they charged him simultaneously.
Declan shoved her away and she reared back, only to collide with Harper who’d come in the back way. She lashed out, her fist connecting with him in a powerful punch.
He caught her wrist, twisting her arm behind her, and slammed her body against his. Thick arms snaked around her, and a syringe was shoved into her neck. “I told you I’d come for you,” he laughed, his voice thick with mockery. He inhaled deeply, breathing her in, and dipped his face against hers. This time, all traces of amusement had vanished. “Ah, a Bennett. I’d recognise his scent anywhere, I just never expected it on you.”
A shudder ripped through her and everything went blurry, numb, and she sought out Declan as she crumbled.
As he struggled with his attackers, their gazes met and held for a long moment until her eyes fluttered closed.
Declan.
****
Everything inside him hammered in protest as Declan saw Kate succumb to the drug. Rose Thorn? Shit.
He fought for his own consciousness, his protective instincts hampered in a way that was driving him crazy. “KATE!” he roared, charging Harper with every ounce of remaining strength he had.
Harper’s warriors were on him before he even got close to her. He fought them off with a low growl, digging deep for the strength that evaded him. In a tumble of blurry movements, he swung his fists, but they kept coming until they had him subdued. Thanks to the drugs, what would have been an impossible task was now an easy one.
What the hell had she given him?
“Kate!” he rasped, as he saw Harper hoist her across his shoulder. Her hair and arms hung loosely down his back as he walked away. Declan tried to break free but stumbled, the warriors pinning him to the ground. The right side of his face crushed into the carpet. With two heavy men on top of him, Declan watched Kate disappear onto the porch. He grunted as a rumble of furious energy bubbled inside.
He focused that energy on the metal porch railing outside, channelling the fury. As Harper marched toward the stairs, the railings began to groan from the onslaught of heat. The stairs caught fire, destroying their escape route.
“What’s happening?” Max shouted.
Harper turned back to the house, Kate still slung across his shoulder. “It’s the Keeper. What the fuck are you waiting for?” he bellowed at his men. “I have the woman. Destroy him!”
Declan heaved backward with all the strength he had, shoving the surprised men off him. He struggled to his feet as something heavy and hard smashed against his head. He dropped to the ground with a fierce growl. “Kate!”
“Let’s get out of here!” Max bellowed as a nearby curtain went up in flames, and delivered a final kick into Declan’s ribs.
And everything went black.
CHAPTER NINE
Failure burned more than Declan cared to admit.
And although he should welcome the unrelenting headache as it meant he was alive, it only fuelled his frustration.
Refusing to dwell on the mammoth crap of Kate’s disappearance, Declan turned his Harley Davidson toward Rapid Falls.
A town where people were friendly, sociable and determined to maintain their traditions. A peaceful village surrounded by mountains, rivers and grape vineyards.
Peaceful, my ass.
Frustration chewing at the last of his patience, he slowed the bike to a crawl and made his way through the main road. The street was lined with ancient trees, immaculate gardens, quaint stores, and old thatched buildings meticulously restored by the townsfolk. Everything was shrouded in snow.
It was quite a contrast to the hustle and bustle of New Orleans.
He parked his bike outside his brother’s restaurant, abandoned his helmet on the seat and went inside, waving at old friends standing further down the sidewalk. He should have gone over to greet them. They’d all be combing the Bennett vineyards soon to assist with the annual harvest, but his mood was beyond idle chit chat.
He stood in the doorway, willing away the gloom that always came over him whenever he walked into the restaurant.
Sarah’s restaurant.
Raw brick walls, a wooden bar, and low lighting. It was modern, but warm and comforting. Although still unfinished, the old pub had been converted into a dining experience his sister would’ve been proud of.
Her dream – gone in a flash of violence.
The memory reared its head before Declan could stop it and he slammed the door so hard that the hinges groaned in protest.
“Whoa, look what the cat dragged in,” Ethan said, walking into the room. He unloaded a box of alcohol onto the bar counter, his easy smile fading as he took in his brother’s harsh frown. Without saying a word, he reached under the counter and produced a bottle of bourbon.
Ethan’s narrowed eyes scrutinized Declan as he judged his brother’s mood. His own short dark hair arranged to perfection, freshly shaven, and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, Ethan looked a far cry from Declan’s ragged appearance.
Not that Declan cared. He glanced around the room and gave a nod of approval. “You’ve made progress.”
“No thanks to you.”
“Hey, I told you that this was your baby. Besides, I’ve had my hands full.”
“With bourbon and women apparently.”
Declan held the glass to his lips, pausing, and flashed his brother a smirk. “Careful, brother, you’re starting to sound like Archer.”
“He’s worried, Declan.”
“He should back off. I’m not about to lose the plot again.”
Once had been enough; he’d almost drowned himself in alcohol and grief.
Sienna walked through the swinging door, a slender vision of red hair and pale skin, carrying a box of wine.
His witch.
The woman he was duty bound to defend and did so without resentment or regret. A devotion few others could understand. But they fought the same war, carried the same weight that came with their responsibilities, and shared the same grief over the ones they’d lost.
She was his best friend, his ally, and one of the few people who could maintain a stand-off with him. They’d often butted heads, but she was like a sister to him and he adored her.
“Declan!” she gasped, her pensive expression shifting to pure delight. “You’re back!”
He went to her, removing the box from her arms and setting it on the floor. When he turned around, she pounced, throwing her arms around him.
He kissed her head, breathing in her familiar smell that always reminded him of home. “Hey, witchy.”