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  Stiffening with a cold, hard realization, Karen shifted out of her lust-filled haze. She wanted Jag’s love and he wanted her soul. Anger overcame her, sudden and painful. Emotions twisted inside, roaring with potency. Her fight instinct kicked in.

  “Get off me.” Shoving on his chest, on his arms, on his body, she said the words over and over. She pushed and pushed, trying to get him away, trying to stop the hurt of his manipulation, of her loss. Tears burned her eyes, cascading to her cheeks.

  Jag was gone. She searched her lifetime for him and he was gone.

  And it hurt. It hurt so damn bad.

  Jag felt the pain in Karen like a stab of reality. Only moments before, darkness had cluttered his thoughts. He’d hidden from everything but escape. Hidden from anything that might cause pain. He’d felt so much of it in his lifetime, lost so much, he couldn’t handle any more.

  But he felt it now, because he felt what Karen did. Because she was his mate and he was about to leave her—leave her to suffer the hell he had endured without her.

  He stroked her hair, kissed her cheeked, trying to calm her. “Cariño, stop. Baby, stop. I’m sorry. Please. It’s okay.” He couldn’t do that to her.

  She was shaking, literally shaking from head to toe, and he felt that, too. “I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”

  “No,” she said. “I don’t want tricks. I want up. Let me up.” Then louder. “Des!”

  He covered her mouth, muffling the scream for Des with a kiss, softly claiming, seducing, soothing. Slowly she eased. Slowly. Slowly. She came back to him.

  When he finally raised his head, releasing her mouth, he spoke before she could, desperate to tell her how he felt. To ensure she knew how much she meant to him. “I love you, Karen,” he said. “I love you more than I thought possible. I’m so sorry for what I just put you through. Tonight, and in the past.”

  She touched his face. “You’re back. Really back? Please tell me it’s true.”

  He smiled, his weight on his forearms by her head as he looked down at her. “Yes, cariño, and I am not going anywhere without my woman ever again. Not now and not ever again.”

  Tears filled her eyes again and he wiped at them with his fingers. “That’s supposed to make you smile, not cry.”

  “I just thought…I thought I lost you. I didn’t know what to do.”

  He brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. “You knew exactly what to do. You always do. But I need to know. Will you trust me again? Will you give yourself to me now and always?”

  Her hands slid around his neck, a twinkle in her eyes replacing the tears. “I can be persuaded.”

  His brow lifted in question, his heart filling with warmth as he watched her face light with desire, the pain gone. “You can start by convincing me that you’re back by making long, hot passionate love to me.”

  Jag laughed, deciding the next century would be far more pleasurable than the last without a doubt. “A man must please his mate,” he said, claiming her mouth with his kiss, as she had claimed his soul.

  Epilogue

  Karen and Marisol sat in the corner of one of several training studios inside the ranch, watching Eva and Rock spar. In the three months since making this their home, both Eva and Karen had received training in many skills, mastering weapons, preparing for a destiny certain to pit them against the Darklands. Eva had taken the task on with fierce determination. She, after all, was now a Knight of White and their battle with the Darklands was never-ending.

  “I still can’t get a hold of the idea of my sister fighting those beasts,” Karen said, watching Eva handle a sword like she’d been born with it in her hand. “It scares me.”

  It was hard to believe her sister had gone from meek and scared to determined to fight. Karen hoped Eva’s obsession with a sword wasn’t masking the pain so that she didn’t fully heal. Eva’s turnaround from a gentle woman to a demanding warrior had been both lightning-fast and extreme.

  As if in response, Eva’s voice filled the air. “Stop holding back!” she shouted at Rock, blades locked with his.

  “I’m not holding back,” Rock said, his expression as grumpy as his voice.

  “Then you fight like a girl,” she countered. “I can’t believe you aren’t dead yet.”

  Marisol laughed and turned back to Karen. “I don’t think you have to worry. Eva can take care of herself.”

  Before Karen could answer, Rock let out a loud grunt. “She cut me. Eva cut me.”

  “That’ll teach you to hold back,” Eva said, glaring at him. “Marisol is here.” She taunted him with a singsong baby voice. “She’ll make it all better.” Back to her normal tone, she said, “Then we can fight for real.”

  “As I was saying,” Marisol said, pushing to her feet. “Eva can take care of herself.”

  Karen had to admit that seemed to be the truth. More and more, Karen was seeing her sister in a new light. “Just like you take good care of Rock,” she teased, unable to hold back the mischievous comment. Though she couldn’t get Marisol to admit there was something between her and Rock, Karen was working on it.

  Jag appeared beside her without warning, and Karen jumped, hand going to her chest. His newfound powers were gradually evolving. So far, he could levitate items and even turn a few things to ash. He couldn’t go poof and make a beast disappear, but the Knights were all encouraged that one day he might be able to.

  The newest talent, the ability to pop in and out of the room, had presented itself in the past week. Jag was enjoying it. Karen wasn’t so much.

  “I hate when you do that,” she told him, trying to remain irritated but struggling. His recently grown goatee was so damn sexy, she couldn’t stay mad. Every time she saw her man these days, she wanted to drag him off to someplace private and have her way with him.

  “I thought you wanted me to practice using my powers,” he teased, claiming the chair beside her and leaning over to kiss her cheek, lingering to nip her ear. “Hmm. You smell good.”

  “Practice so you won’t get killed using them. I didn’t say scare me to death in the process.” He nibbled the sensitive skin on her neck and she swatted at him. “Behave,” she said, motioning toward Rock who was staring at Marisol like she was a piece of candy. “What’s with Marisol and Rock?”

  “I think that’s pretty clear. They want each other, but she can’t be with him.”

  Karen frowned, turning to Jag. “What? Why?”

  “It’s a rule. Healers are forbidden that type of relationship.”

  “Says who?”

  He laughed. “Says those with much more say than you or me. You can’t change this even with your stubborn determination.”

  “But two people who love each other should be together,” she argued.

  “Everything happens for a reason,” he reminded her.

  She sighed. “Yes. I know.” Still, she hated to see the two of them denied love. “That brings me to another point though. I had this idea.”

  He lifted his brow, a flirtatious twinkle in his eyes. “I hope it’s fun.”

  Each day Jag smiled more, the darkness sliding into his past. It warmed her to know she’d been a part of that. “Actually,” she said, “this idea is full of fun. Until now, all I’ve been able to do is tell you about my travels. We used to dream of seeing the world together.”

  “We’ve talked about this, cariño. I can’t leave this place. I wish I could.”

  “But you want to travel,” she said, eager to convince him to live a little. If anyone deserved to, it was Jag. For hours they would lie in bed and talk. Karen so desperately wanted to share the places she’d seen with Jag and he was hungry for every detail. She circled his hand in hers, a plea in her voice, in her eyes. “To actually show you the world instead of talking about it would be amazing. We could take a honeymoon after the wedding next month.”

  “Karen—”

  She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Just hear me out.”

  He gave her a nod, kissing
her fingers before taking her hand in his once again.

  “Well, now you have this new power. You can just pop right back here if there is trouble.”

  “I doubt the reason I was granted this power was to take a vacation,” he said, taking the cautious approach he was so good at.

  “No,” she agreed. “But you have to admit, it has possibilities. We could travel. You really would love the romance of Venice.” Her eyes lit. “Or St. Thomas. You’d love it there. The water is so clear blue, it’s like a beautiful painting come to life.”

  His expression grew wistful. “I’m not even sure how far I can travel. For all I know it’s not more than a few miles.”

  Karen stood up. “What are you waiting for?” she asked. “Let’s find out.”

  “Now?” he asked. “We can’t just go now.”

  Behind them Rock yelled, Eva having cut him once again. Karen rolled her eyes. “Now seems a really good time to leave to me.”

  Jag laughed and pushed to his feet, holding out his arm to her. “Where to first?” he asked.

  She gave him a grin. “I’d be happy to start with our bedroom. From there, the possibilities are endless.”

  Jag laughed, and pulled her close, kissing her passionately, before flashing them from the room.

  Beast of Desire

  By Lisa Renee Jones

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Deep in meditation, Jag, leader of the Knights of White, sat cross-legged, his dark hair pulled back at the neck, his body draped in the earthly color of forest-green. Directly in front of Jag, dressed in the same attire, sat his mentor, Salvador.

  Shaped as a perfect circle, the simple room had unnaturally white walls and white padded floors. Incense burned, as did candles and healing herbs.

  It had been several months now since Jag had found his mate, and she had balanced the darkness of the Beast within him with her pureness. And since then, Jag had been gifted with magical powers to guide and protect his Knights of White.

  Jag’s eyes fluttered and then snapped open, the vision he’d experienced damn near twisting his gut in knots. A vision of his second-in-charge, Des, turning from White Knight to Darkland Beast. Of the man he knew as a friend becoming an enemy.

  “What is this that you have shown me?”

  Salvador’s light green, almost fluorescent eyes darkened with truth, his long, dark hair secured at his neck. “You know he walks too closely to the darkness.”

  Jag inhaled, defeated by this reality. “I have to save him.”

  “He will have to save himself. Even now, as we speak, the wheels are in motion to give him a choice between Beast and man.” Salvador’s voice firmed. “You may guide but not interfere. Des’s choices and his destiny will be of his own making. He must choose—darkness or light.”

  Chapter 1

  A sexy eighties song filtered through the air of the elite Padre Island Men’s Club, a lush brunette atop an oval stage, swaying to the beat.

  Dim lights added flavor to a room designed for sin and seduction, dancers scattered at various other locations throughout the room, working the music and the men. In the far corners the walls were lined with couches for those who wanted to remain discreet, while private shows were available for those willing to pay the price.

  Preferring both his entertainment and his women full of excitement, Des had chosen to sit front and center, at the edge of the stage. Here he had a perfect view of the dancer who called herself “Veronica” as she seduced the audience with her curvy hips and inviting, full breasts.

  Beside him, two of his fellow Knights of White, Rinehart and Rock, each nursed a beer. Des preferred the bigger bite of tequila. He was immortal, after all. It wasn’t as if the stuff was going to kill him. Even getting a buzz, for their kind, was nearly impossible.

  “Veronica” eased closer, kneeling in front of Des as she sang the words of the song. Then she turned the song into a question. “Do you think I’m a nasty girl?” she whispered.

  “I don’t think, mi hermosa,” Des murmured in a low voice, his hungry eyes taking in her naked body, her pebbled nipples. “I know.”

  She’d been quite the feast two weekends before. A hot Mexican mama who matched his heritage and did a good job of trying to match his lust. But as good as that night had been, he wouldn’t be repeating it. He never allowed himself to repeat. Repeat performances invited questions about his past, about his life, that he didn’t welcome.

  Talk, no. Sex, yes.

  Besides, tonight was about Rock, not him. The kid had it bad for their Healer, Marisol, which meant he was out of luck. Healers were considered off-limits, forbidden physical pleasure, a rule Marisol took seriously despite her own obvious desire for Rock. In other words, the consequences of following her desire would be some deep trouble. Of course, helping the kid was no easy task. Rock really was as stubborn as a rock, though Des doubted that’s what the name meant to the kid. How ironic he’d chosen his immortal name to be something so fitting. They all chose one name to define their existence within the Knights, something special to them and them alone, leaving behind their past—or at least trying to forget what once was.

  With Rinehart as an accomplice, Des had convinced the kid to join them for a night out, with one agenda in mind…hooking Rock up with a woman. This particular dancer’s flavor of “nasty” was exactly the kind of distraction Rock needed.

  Des drew a C-note from his pocket and leaned toward the stage. The Knights had money and he didn’t mind using his. They’d all been given healthy trust funds after completing their training; money to live on. He’d been smart and invested his money well, though he didn’t share that little bit of information with the others. If they were smart, they had as well. An eternity of living demanded funds. Besides, Des would be damned if the lack of money would ever make him feel beneath anyone again. He’d been there, done that, was never doing it again.

  Motioning the woman forward, Des whispered in her ear. She leaned back and smiled, waiting patiently for her reward. Sliding his fingers up her thigh, he placed the money under her garter. She stood and walked toward the stairs in a sexy strut.

  “Tell me you didn’t,” Rock said, running a hand over his short, sandy brown hair, a muscle in his jaw jumping.

  Des eyed Rinehart, an ex-military man who sat arms crossed, cowboy hat pulled low over his buzzcut, shadowing his eyes. “Tell me you did,” he said. Eyes that were normally cold and calculating now twinkled with mischief.

  “Come on, Rock,” Des said. “You know you have to.”

  Each Knight possessed a soul, but each had also been touched by a Beast. Each had turned into a demon later saved by Salvador, a recruiter for the Knights. Now, they lived with that Beast inside, some more than others, forced to fight their primal urges. To control the urges, they needed to put them to use. To burn them out. A task best achieved in war or sex.

  But Rock was so hung up on Marisol he took risks he couldn’t afford to take. He let himself live on the edge. “She knows, man.” Des lowered his voice for Rock’s ears only. “Marisol knows you have no choice. And you both know Healers are off-limits. As in, you’re not going there, so stop thinking you are. You’re wound tight. You need this. It’s a woman or the battlefield, and since the Beasts are remarkably quiet right now, I’d say it’s the woman.”

  Veronica appeared floor leve
l, her body working in a sultry rhythm meant for Rock’s exclusive pleasure. Yet, the younger Knight started to complain. “Des, man, I told you, no. I—” Veronica straddled him and Rock lost his words.

  Rinehart laughed and held up his beer in a mock salute of Des. “May Rock’s pleasure be our sanity.”

  “Hell, yeah,” Des said, laughing at the truth of the statement. “I’d say that calls for another drink.”

  Raising his hand to flag a waitress, Des spotted their new security specialist, Max, in the doorway. Des grimaced at the unexpected visitor. He didn’t like Max, and he didn’t know why. Something was off with the guy.

  Taking advantage of his position of observation, Des sized Max up, trying to put his finger on what it was. The newcomer appeared normal enough. As normal as an immortal who fought demons could come off. Des sized Max up as he often did, trying to figure out the newcomer. His brown hair, a bit longer than Des’s own, touched his shoulders. The biker getup Max favored of leather jacket and matching pants had to be hot as hell, though, in the current hundred-degree Texas heat. That was exactly why Des stuck to jeans and a T-shirt. Simple. Easygoing. But nothing about Max was simple.

  Des’s eyes locked with Max’s and they stared at one another, a standoff of sorts. Rinehart turned, following Des’s gaze, but he didn’t comment on Max’s appearance. Rock didn’t notice Des’s distraction at all. Veronica had him standing at attention.

  Des wasn’t about to be the first to break eye contact. A topless waitress did the job for him, stopping in front of Max, and giving both Knights an excuse to change focus.

  “What’s Max doing here?” Des asked, shooting Rinehart a suspicious look.

  “Guess he was thirsty,” Rinehart replied with a nonchalant shrug, adjusting his gaze as if he were checking out Rock’s private dancer, which was bullshit.