by Devyn Quinn
“Really? You’ve experienced this yourself?”
He nodded gravely. “More or less. So have others I know. I can’t explain it, except to say there are other invisible forces at work around us.”
Jesse wavered. He didn’t really have any easy answers and she shouldn’t expect them. “I—I’ll try.” It made her wonder. Is it possible? Staring the outlaw down, she leaned forward. “Let’s say for the sake of conversation that everything you’ve told me is the absolute truth. How do you know you’re one of these Palin-things?”
“I didn’t know until I was taken,” he explained. “When I was infected, the demonic parasite activated something in my DNA. As my system absorbed the venomous thing, several mortal restraints fell away. I became stronger than most men, faster.”
His answer triggered a vague moment in her memory, of being in the cemetery when he’d appeared, the blur of a shadow morphing into a man. He’d arrived so quickly and with such stealth that her mind hadn’t been able to process what she’d seen. At the time, she’d been too damn preoccupied with the vampire to give it a second thought.
She shook her head. “That explains how you became one,” she said. “Not how you knew you were one.”
One corner of his mouth turned up in the barest hint of a smile. “Like you, I had to have an oracle of sorts to show me the way. Her name was Serafina. She guided me through my darkness, as I am now trying to do for you.”
Jesse moistened her lips. “This goes back to that end-of-days thing you were talking about, doesn’t it?” It felt creepy to be discussing a subject that had both frightened and intrigued mankind for thousands of years. Her own knowledge was sketchy. She hadn’t been raised to observe much of any faith.
Oh, ye of little . . . , she thought.
He launched an inquiring glance. “Did you think the Enlightened One would send no warriors of her own into battle? The dominion of Earth might be Xaphan’s playground, but men are by no means unguarded against the threat of the Telave.”
At this point, Jesse wasn’t sure about anything. No one expected to be hauled straight into the apocalypse. It wasn’t as though the sky had cracked open and some great sign had appeared.
Jesse shifted uncomfortably. “Who the hell is Xaphan?”
Maddox let a bitter smile play at the corner of his lips. “Who do you think caused the angels to fall? Eve to take the first bite of that apple?”
Jesse quirked a brow. “You mean Satan?”
Maddox gave a short laugh. “Call him what you will. Mythologies get complicated over time, but those of us who know him haven’t forgotten his true name.”
Jesse’s blood turned to ice. An image of Maddox swinging a fiery sword flashed across her mind’s eye. How did he know so much? “You’re not human, are you?” A chill crept up her spine even as she spoke the words.
The man sitting a few feet away gave her a level look. The heat behind his gaze probed back. His fingers toyed with the bottle, close to empty now. “Yes, I’m still human. Just not mortal. There is a difference.”
He answered with such conviction that Jesse didn’t think he was lying—not by a long shot. She looked him up and down. “So that would give you, like, eternal life or something.”
He arched a brow in thought. “Not really. Like the Telave, we aren’t invulnerable. But because there are so few called to fight, we have a longer life span.”
Jesse’s fingers curled into tight fists. Had she not been a victim herself, she would’ve called him certifiable. However, there was nothing funny or unbelievable in his narrative. Whether or not one cared to believe, it seemed names were being taken and sides were being chosen. Who would remain standing amid the chaos to come was yet to be determined.
Though Jesse wanted to stand, the demon seething inside was determined to take her down—no doubt there. The question was, how much longer could she resist its hunger?
A wave of resentment washed through her. “Guess that makes you one of the blessed ones,” she grated. It didn’t seem fair she’d somehow gotten left out of the equation. She’d cut off her right arm to be rid of the demon inside. But divine intervention, genetics, fate—call it whatever—hadn’t smiled on her. She felt as though she’d been tossed aside, one of the dark forgotten.
His dark irises glittered like a mirror coated with frost. “No man who has looked evil in its ugly face can call himself lucky. Like those things, I exist in the shadows, hoping I can hold on to my sanity. It’s hardly a life many men would want; yet it’s mine.”
Comprehension dawned. “I understand,” she said. “All you can do is take each day as it comes. If you make it through another one, you’ve succeeded.”
A sigh of exhaustion escaped him. “Sometimes I wonder about that,” he said. “With each century that passes, the Telave grow stronger. It often feels as if we’re fighting a battle we can’t win.”
“We? So where are the others?”
Maddox let his hand drop. “There are others. You will meet them. Another time.” Reaching for the whiskey, he drained the final dregs. The bottle that had begun the evening half-full was now empty. He lowered it with a thud against the scarred linoleum tabletop. “I’m done. It’s time for bed.” By now his voice had developed a slur, proving he wasn’t invulnerable to the effects of hard liquor.
Jesse inwardly winced. After Amanda’s murder, her father had crawled inside the bottle, adding yet another stress to her parents’ already-strained marriage. They weren’t coping well, and neither was she. Part of the reason she’d left was for the sake of her own sanity. Everyone was falling apart. Life would never be the same for the Burke family. As much as she missed her parents, she had decided she’d never contact them again. They would never understand the monster lurking beneath her skin. As far as she was concerned, her life had ended the night she and Amanda were taken.
Though hardly prepared to call the night over, Jesse supposed she didn’t have a choice. Her mind raced, filled to the brim with questions. There was still so much to learn, so much more she wanted to know.
Don’t push, she warned herself. Right now her position in Maddox’s territory was tenuous at best. True, he’d offered to protect her from his people. But that didn’t mean she was safe—not at all. She’d have to work hard to prove she belonged, to prove to him that she could handle herself.
Lesson number one had already been hammered into her head: Never hunt alone. She’d just learned the hard way it was better to have some backup.
Oh yeah. The shotgun might’ve helped, too.
But there was no time to think of those things.
Maddox abruptly stood, staggering toward the bed. Exhaustion, coupled with the booze, had obviously affected his system. Stripping off his shirt, he tossed it aside. Still clad in jeans and heavy boots, he pitched forward, landing facedown on the mattress. A moment later he rolled over, arms and legs akimbo.
“Come to bed,” he invited.
Jesse’s gaze drifted over Maddox’s prone body. The mellow golden glow emanating from the nearby lamp caressed the masculine angles of his body. Cut to a ragged collar length, a mass of brown curls shaded with red tumbled without restraint around his face. He had a battered profile that suggested the years behind him had been no easier than the endless ones stretching ahead. A long ragged scar distorted one temple, coming dangerously close to the corner of his left eye. He hadn’t shaved in a day, maybe two, and dark stubble mossed his cheeks and jawline.
Her gaze trekked lower. More scars, many of which hinted at the rough-and-tumble life he’d led, marred his upper body.
The disfigurement didn’t detract from his rough handsomeness, instead adding to his mystique as a man of shadow and mystery. His shoulders were broad, but not ridiculously bulky. A light smattering of hair matted his chest; a sleek line of it funneled down to disappear beneath the waistline of his jeans. A slab of hard abdomen ruled over an endless stretch of legs.
Even though he was at rest, an aura of great strength was
apparent just beneath the muscle and sinew covering his bones. There was no doubt in her mind he was dangerous, adept at surviving on his wits and nerve.
Unable to stop herself, Jesse shivered at the delicious sight.
If nothing else, Maddox deValois was all male. For the first time in months, she felt a little spark of interest jump into her mind. Her body reacted with a sexuality that thumped into her heart, sending a rush of blood to the tips of her nipples, already bead hard from the sight of a half-naked man lying just a few feet away. Need rippled deep inside her core. The wicked feelings swept through her body, unbidden, and she felt her cheeks flush with heat.
Jesse swallowed again—harder. As one of the demon-infected, she’d shunned the touch of a man. It had been a long time since anyone had touched her skin, caressed her . . .
She shoved the unbidden feelings aside. Not now. Her tongue moistened chapped lips. “Uh, if you think I’m having sex with you, you can forget that right now.” The words almost couldn’t escape. Her mouth felt dry as parched wheat.
Releasing a small groan, Maddox raised his head. “Who said anything about sex?” He dropped it again and pressed his hands against his face. “I’ll find my pleasure elsewhere. Sleep is what I need now. As for where you want to sleep, suit yourself.”
Jesse had to admit the bed looked inviting enough. It had been at least a month since she’d had a mattress under her back, and the one she’d had then hadn’t been a good one at all. The jail in Jefferson Parish didn’t offer a whole lot of comfort to its prisoners. Having no permanent address, she usually spent the night in the remnants of houses abandoned by their owners after Katrina. At one time or another, abandoned public facilities or alleyways had sufficed. Except for her time behind bars, she’d never spent a night in the same place.
I’m tired of running, she thought wearily. Tired of hiding. She eyed the bed again. So far there was only one problem with it.
Maddox.
But trust, as fragile and tenuous as it might be, had to begin somewhere.
Maddox raised his head as Jesse settled on the bed beside him and started to take off her boots. The whiskey had definitely done its work. His brain felt wrapped in gauze, his senses pleasantly fuzzed. She could kill him after he fell asleep and he doubted he would care. His life had been a long one, the passage of time wearing down his spirit the way a mountain stream eroded the earth.
He’d fought almost two centuries against the Telave. Rest would be well deserved, perhaps more than a little bit welcome. No man should have to watch those he loved perish even as he himself was forced to endure day after endless day.
“Ankle still bothering you?” he asked.
Untying the laces of her other boot, Jesse nodded. “It hurts a little. I’m hoping it’ll be better tomorrow.”
He stifled a yawn. Though tired, he doubted he could fall asleep now. “It’s already tomorrow.”
Jesse let the shoe slip through her fingers. “I suppose it is.” She peered over one shoulder. “You going to make room for me there, or do I have to make do with this sliver of edge?”
“Oh. Sorry.” Maddox moved over a few inches to give her more room. He’d been a rude pig, taking up the middle of the bed. The least he could do was allow her a little more space.
“Long day. You should try and get some rest.”
Moving with the greatest of care, Jesse gingerly stretched out beside him. Clasping her hands across her stomach, she lay still and straight as a board.
“Comfortable enough for you?”
“Yeah. It’s okay.” Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t mean to offend, but you really stink.”
“None taken.” He made a show of taking a deep sniff of her. “Though I must say you don’t exactly smell like a daisy yourself.”
She grimaced. “Sorry. I haven’t gotten down to the YWCA to catch a shower lately.”
As one who lived with running water, Maddox didn’t have an excuse. He was single, a man, and a natural pig. Just managing to get in the shower more than a few times a week was a trial. It wasn’t as if he had to smell like Old Spice to kill Telave.
“Wash up tomorrow.” He eyed her threadbare clothing. “I’ll try to find you something clean to wear, too.”
Jesse shifted a little, letting her body relax. “That would be great. Thanks.”
“Don’t you have family in New Orleans? Your parents?” He couldn’t help asking. Why was this girl all alone?
She rolled her head toward him. A don’t-ask look crossed her face. She quickly wiped it away. “No.”
Her answer didn’t quite ring true. “What happened to them?”
Her mouth drew down in a frown.
“That’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time to listen.”
She dragged in a breath. “It started about a year ago, before Katrina. I don’t have to tell you how Amanda and I became infected, except to say that after the Telave dumped us, we both began to show signs of the infection. You know how people are out of it, as if they’ve been hit with a super case of rabies.”
“Right.”
Her jaw tightened. “The cops who picked us up took us straight to the Emergency Room. It didn’t do much good, though. Amanda died less than an hour later.”
“Then the officers recognized you were showing signs of the infection?” he asked, cutting into her narrative.
Jesse nodded. “Yeah. It wasn’t as if you could miss the warnings in the news to stay away from stray cats and dogs.”
“The authorities always think those bites come from rabid animals.” Maddox shook his head. “Very few people make the connection to vampires. Even when faced with overwhelming evidence, people cling to their ignorance. And the Telave are so well hidden in our society.”
Jesse nodded. “Anyway, I was still in the hospital when Katrina hit,” she explained. “They managed to evacuate some of us, and I was sent to a facility in Texas. The flood took the house and most everything we owned, so we moved to San Fernando to start over. My dad’s parents live there, and we stayed with them awhile.”
“California’s a long way from Louisiana. Why didn’t you stay there with your family?” It would have been a wiser choice, maybe even safer, he thought. But he didn’t say it out loud.
“I couldn’t.” Freeing a hand, she tapped her index finger against her temple. “Not with all the strange things going on in my head. I was afraid I’d hurt them, so I left.”
Her confession carried enormous weight. Maddox comprehended better than anyone the terror behind the physical changes her body was undergoing. “And you’ve been on your own ever since?”
She nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. I figured if I kept moving, whoever did this to me wouldn’t find me again.”
“You think they’re looking for you?”
“Yeah, I do,” she answered without hesitation. “To finish what they started. And now I find out people like you want me dead.” She shook her head slowly from side to side. “Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Shit. I can’t win for losing.”
He grunted. “Coming back to New Orleans doesn’t seem like the smartest thing to do, then.”
“I’m tired of running,” she answered with simple honesty. “Tired of hiding. It was time to come back, and bring the fight to them.” She paused to watch the effects of her words ripple over him.
Maddox thought a moment. She did have a point. Then he remembered her ineffective attempts earlier in the cemetery. She was so scrawny, she probably didn’t have the strength to swat a fly. Determination was no match for brute strength. And he had the latter in spades.
“You’re still so far from ready. It’ll take months to get you into shape—if ever.”
Her voice floated into his ears. “I want this,” she insisted. “My life is nothing. If I die fighting, maybe I can take a few of them with me.”
He grunted. “Let’s not talk about death. First we rest. Then we fight. Best thing to do now is get some sleep.”
<
br /> “I’m not tired.” Jesse went silent as he turned to face the wall, but it didn’t last ten minutes. Just as Maddox closed his eyes, she said, “Can I ask you something?”
The notion that he’d get any sleep tonight fled. “No guarantee I’ll answer,” he grumbled.
“When were you taken?”
Maddox’s throat involuntarily tightened. The life he’d been born into flickered in his mind’s eye like a distant mirage. It was hard to believe how much the world had changed since the days of his mortality. At the time he’d been a mere youth, taking advantage of the opportunities offered by the North American colonies founded by the French and British. Then, he was a trader, traveling the east-west routes from New Orleans and from Missouri.
His mouth suddenly felt as dry as the Sahara. “In 1763.” The date rolling off his tongue sounded utterly alien. It was unbelievable, even to his own ears.
Jesse sat bolt upright. “No shit,” she exclaimed. “That’s not possible.”
He’d hoped she hadn’t heard him. “I wish,” he mumbled, thinking now would be a good time to be struck not only deaf but dumb. Then he wouldn’t have to remember.
But his brain defied him. Bits and pieces of the hazy event floated back into his mind. Back then, his captors had been a strange brew of European, Native American, and Creole. The queen they served was a dark-haired, coppery-skinned demoness known as Amonate. As one of the Fallen who followed Xaphan out of heaven, or the Sacred Haven, as his people called it, she held a high post in the demonic hierarchy.
Maddox willed the memories to go away, but he couldn’t prevent the images from crowding into his mind and taking over his thoughts. As much as he hated to admit it, he’d enjoyed being taken by the Telave. Their ritual of feeding was an erotic one, whether the victim was male or female.
Mouth agape, Jesse used her fingers for some quick figuring. “Shit, that makes you like two hundred and forty-three years old.”
“Two hundred and seventy.”
