Captive of the Beast Read online

  “That hasn’t happened in months!”

  “Kresley’s sick. Your blood work says you will be, too. It could have happened.”

  “I’m sick?” His eyes were wide with worry. “What’s wrong with us?”

  “The flu, Blake, but you can see from Kresley how bad it is. And you know when you get sick, you lose control over your invisibility.”

  “Not since the shots, and Kresley hasn’t started a fire since she’s been sick.”

  “There hasn’t been enough time to be certain the illness won’t impact control. We can’t take risks.”

  “If these men want to kidnap us, what choice do we have?”

  Out-of-character impatience bit at her nerves. Time was ticking away to her meeting with Rinehart, and it appeared she would have no opportunity to think through her options before meeting him. But that wasn’t Blake’s fault. He was a kid, caught in a firestorm that he didn’t understand. A kid growing up fast. Too fast. She wanted him to live without having his ability controlling his every move. She wanted her research to matter to him.

  She steadied her voice. “Don’t take risks without talking to me first.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” he countered. “I took a run, timing myself to see how long I could maintain my control. The next thing I knew, they were just there, talking. I couldn’t help but listen. And besides—” he flung his hands in the air “—you’re missing the point! They want to take us off the island.”

  God, she hated lying, so she tried to be as truthful as possible. “I talked to Rinehart about this very subject over dinner. He’s old-school military, like my father was. Has to be prepared for anything and everything.” She rolled her eyes. “The man brought his own security people to a military facility. What does that tell you?”

  He looked relieved. “You talked to him about us getting off the island?”

  She nodded and sat down on the beach, patting the sand beside her, pleased when he joined her without hesitation. She could feel him beginning to calm down. “Our program is top secret,” she continued, “so clarifying an evacuation plan makes sense.”

  “I guess it does,” Blake said, digging his name in the sand with a shell. “It still felt like more than that.”

  “Paranoid is my job,” Laura said. “Leave it to me. Leave this alone, Blake. I don’t want anything to go wrong right now. I am close to perfecting your serum. Let me do that for you. Let me give you a life that won’t be in confinement.” He didn’t respond instantly, and she prodded, “Blake?”

  His gaze lifted to hers. “I do appreciate all you do for us, Laura.”

  “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t say otherwise, either.” Blake would act rashly and end up in trouble. Everything was spinning out of control. She had to think. “Head to bed. Your morning tutoring will be here before you know it.” There was no softness to her voice, no understanding. She was trying to help him, and he was going to work against her. She could feel it in every inch of her being.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Her tone was short, and she could see from Blake’s expression that he was surprised.

  He hesitated, but pushed to his feet. “Just be careful out here alone, okay?”

  “I’m always careful,” she said, tired of how true that statement had become. She lived in a shell that was quickly becoming a jail cell. He stared at her a moment longer, then turned toward the parking lot. Over her shoulder, she watched him walk toward the building before her vision drifted across the water, to the twinkling stars in the clear, black sky. When they had first arrived on the island, she had thought it was heaven. Now, it felt like hell. A hell they had to escape.

  And she needed help to do that. She’d already decided that when Rinehart had appeared at the opportune moment. Maybe too opportune. Her father’s warnings of caution replayed in her head. Laura leaned back on her hands, sand sliding through her fingers, cool and grainy. And she reached deep, trying to sort through what her instincts told her about Rinehart, and what life and her father had taught her about protecting herself. But there was a potent new piece of the puzzle clouding her judgment—desire. Her attraction to Rinehart was fire in her veins, unnaturally compelling—hypnotic, even.

  And that made him dangerous. That made her instincts impossible to interpret. And if she couldn’t trust her senses, she couldn’t trust him. No matter what promises he made tonight, she had to be cautious, had to keep her guard up. And yet, as it stood, he was her best shot of escape from this island.

  Chapter 9

  Deep in the Mexico mountains, home of the Darkland Beasts, a battle between two Beasts was taking place. Adrian, ruler of the Darkland Beasts, sat in his silk-covered chair on the podium that overlooked the center of the massive underground coliseum he’d built for his amusement. At his feet lounged two gorgeous women, one blonde, one brunette—variety being his favorite flavor.

  Beneath them, inside the war zone, two soldiers were circling a bonfire, maneuvering to defeat one another. They wore nothing but buckskin pants—no shirts, no magical armor, none of their standard attire.

  Unlike the other Beast in the battle, Tezi, Adrian’s secret weapon against the Knights of White, retained his human form, his weakest side—no doubt to prove a point: that he could destroy his enemy with ease, without ever breaking out his beastly strength. Tezi’s long raven hair was braided at the back of his neck, and his thickly roped muscles were painted in war colors of red and black. His eyes, even from a distance, held a predatory gleam that said he enjoyed killing.

  With a quick jut of the knife he held, Tezi sliced the enemy’s arm. The soldier snarled through his fanged teeth, his half-Beast, half-human face twisting in pain. He lunged at Tezi, and the crowd of Beasts, hundreds of them, roared to life around the coliseum.

  Tezi easily avoided his opponent’s action, as the Beast he faced had little experience with this gritty hand-to-hand combat. In this battle, there were none of the long sabers normally used to behead and kill the immortal Knights of White. Tezi had convinced Adrian they could no longer allow the Beasts to battle in the expected fashion. Instead, they must attack in ways that would tear down their guard—a plan that well suited the other strategic moves Adrian had put into play.

  Adrian had forgone his brutal approach of simply attacking humans in the dark and converting them. He had implemented programs to infiltrate the human society, to live among them as the Knights were able to do. The first move in this direction was Walch and the military facility he operated. They’d choose people like Walch, with stature in the human venues that served their needs, and then convert them. They’d take over humanity little by little in a big way.

  Adrian grimaced, his attention fading from the battle below. This new strategy meant giving his Beasts more power, more identity, than he preferred. He drew a breath, and the air around him crackled with energy, with the tension this prospect created in him. He reminded himself of the greatness he possessed, the magical gifts. His Beasts feared him, and rightfully so. He’d simply make fast examples of any that crossed him. After all, his ultimate goal had to be considered: He wanted rank in the Underworld and for Cain, his master, to offer that freely. If he would not—Adrian would take his power.

  Adrian refocused on the battle below. His Beast soldier was barely keeping his footing at this point. Tezi was demolishing him; the Beast deserved to die. Adrian shook his head. To achieve these new goals, his Beasts could no longer rely on armor and darkness to cloak their existence. And Tezi, a vicious killer and manipulative thinker, was, without question, the perfect Second to aid their transition into a new way of operating.

  With another vicious punch of his knife, Tezi landed his blade in his opponent’s stomach. A second later, the Beast was on his back, Tezi on top of him. A few sharp cuts, and he held the Beast’s heart in his hand. He let out a fierce battle cry—the Az
tec warrior of his past still linked to his current battle tactics. Pushing to his feet, he flung the flaming heart aside, seeming more irritated by its existence than bothered by the fire.

  He dropped to his knees then and bowed to Adrian. The other Beasts followed his example. Adrian smiled. Tezi knew who had the power, who could give him what he ultimately wanted—and Tezi showed his respect, unlike so many of his past Seconds. Beasts he’d destroyed or tortured for crossing him.

  Tezi pushed to his feet, but the other Beasts remained on their knees. He flashed out of sight and orbed through space, a gift he’d retained from a prior life. A second later, he kneeled before Adrian.

  Adrian inclined his head at Tezi and allowed him to stand, something he rarely allowed his followers. And never before had Adrian allowed a Second to retain a name. They had been called only Segundo, his second. But then, Tezi had no desire to overthrow Adrian’s empire or to threaten his power.

  As the first leader of the Knights of White, Tezi had come to him with the darkness of his tainted soul tearing him up inside. And he had given himself to Adrian on one condition—he would be given a chance at revenge, a chance to make the higher powers pay for what they had done to him and his circle of Knights. Now, with his soul stripped from him, as it was from all Beasts, evil flourished in Tezi—all the good in him destroyed. And that evil drove the violence that had tracked his life, the violence he’d lived as an Aztec warrior and then as a Knight of White. He was a killer, a perfect, deadly Beast.

  “When do I get my new soldiers?” Tezi asked, his voice thick with a Spanish accent, and betraying a slight hint of demand that he clearly worked to keep in check. “I cannot defeat the Knights like this.” He gestured toward the Beasts below them. “Not with these pathetic excuses for soldiers. No wonder you need hundreds to battle so few Knights.”

  Anger coiled in Adrian’s gut at the insult. Disgust and disappointment, as well. The respect he had come to expect from Tezi was nowhere to be found. “You dare to insult my army and make royalty of the Knights?” he demanded. “Be warned, Tezi.” His voice dropped, a lethal warning clinging to his words. “I can rip out that Aztec heart of yours with a snap of my fingers. And I don’t require a knife to get the job done.”

  Tezi stared at Adrian, his dark eyes fearless. “You cannot defeat the Knights if you fail to understand their strengths.” His voice took on a gravely, intense quality, one of pride. “As for ripping my heart out, when the time is right, and my duty complete, I will gladly let you have it. It is an honorable way to die,” he added, referring to the sacrifices his people had made to the gods.

  Adrian laughed, always eager to remind Tezi of the many reasons he should hate Raphael. “How ironic to hear such a thing from the noble Aztec prince who tried to convince his people to believe in a god who didn’t require human sacrifice.”

  “I know now what I didn’t then,” Tezi ground out between his teeth. “That sacrifice is demanded by all those above and below.” Tezi believed that his generation of Knights had been unfairly sacrificed after being given a hope of life the Aztecs had never given those they’d imprisoned. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, his legs shoulder-width apart—unmoving, determined. “And so they will see the sacrifice and destruction of all of their Knights.”

  Adrian looked down upon his Beasts, passing along disturbing news delivered by Cain. “There are rumblings in the Underworld about our plans. Someone may sell us out to the Knights. We must consider our options.”

  “Walch must be managed,” Tezi said instantly.

  “Walch is the recognized human leader on that island. He stays.”

  “He has acted too slowly.”

  “Confined by human scientific limitations.”

  “Because he’s walked around the female doctor’s sensitivities. If the cloning process already exists, which you say Walch declares to be truth, then we must press it to completion. This female has been his problem from day one. It is time she be dealt with appropriately. I can achieve what Walch cannot.”

  Adrian arched a brow at him. “Which is what?”

  “Immediate cooperation,” Tezi replied, his voice steely confident.

  Adrian did not like where this was going. “If your existence slips out to the Knights before your army is ready, what then?”

  Tezi snorted. “Then they will know I am coming for them. I am tired of hiding.”

  Adrian shook his head at this new position, irritated that Tezi had lost touch with the bigger picture. “Your vengeance serves my agenda, Tezi, or you would not be here. But do not forget this is indeed my agenda. You will not expose yourself until I say it is time. That island is to be our first military post. We will not do anything to risk alerting the humans they are in danger.”

  “Nor can we risk moving too slow and having the Knights destroy our plans.”

  “And what of Walch’s opinion that the doctor will hold back information if she is forced into submission? He believes that her free-will consent is critical to our success.”

  The corner of Tezi’s lips hinted at a smile. “I’ve found that pain creates free will.”

  A short-sighted answer. Disdain filled Adrian’s voice. “You cannot defeat humans if you do not understand them,” he said, a bite to his voice as he used Tezi’s own words about the Knights. His prior doubt slid away. “That is exactly why Walch is needed. His recent humanity is a tool we must use as a strength, not a weakness. He knows that what breaks humans is emotional, not physical. Their own pain is not as motivating as the pain of someone they love.”

  Tezi balled his fists by his side. “Yet he has done nothing but coddle this female doctor and hope for her cooperation.” Anger eroded his features. “I’ve been patient, Adrian, waited until the right time to seek my revenge. I cannot stand by and watch my perfect army fall apart. The time to end the Knights of White is now.”

  Adrian leaned back in his chair, hands resting on the jeweled arms. Walch was, indeed, moving too slowly; on that point, Tezi was accurate. But Adrian had coveted the demise of the Knights for far too long to falter now. If Cain would not grant him power in the Underworld, then perhaps with the Knights gone, Adrian would claim the earthly realm instead.

  Action was needed. “Hold your hands in front of you,” he ordered Tezi.

  Without hesitation, Tezi fearlessly did as ordered. Two silver snakes appeared around his wrists, slithering around until they took solid form. A menacing smile slipped onto Tezi’s lips. He knew what gift he had been given, what power those bracelets delivered to him.

  Tezi kneeled in front of Adrian, respect offered fully once again, as his ruthless quest for vengeance was now closer to becoming reality. “I will not fail you, master.” And then he disappeared.

  An hour after watching Rinehart tear down Laura’s prickly exterior with a long, hot kiss that turned into erotic foreplay, Walch lay in the center of his bed with Carol’s naked body curled up next to him, her hand trailing his biceps. She wanted him again. He could smell her desire, her need. She was transitioning from human to Demon; her primitive urges were more pronounced now, and her willingness to do whatever it took to find satisfaction was becoming her nature. But then, Carol had tasted evil from the beginning; she had never been pure. It had been easy to take her deep into the darkness of conversion with no hope of turning back. In the past, females were killed before full conversion, but not Carol. He had plans for Carol—she was his insurance policy, his army of one who would use her gift, and newly found Beast strength, to take on Laura if need be.

  He smiled, enjoying the knowledge that he alone held Carol’s and Laura’s destinies in his hands. Carol smiled up at him, her gaze holding his as she nibbled at his naked chest, the silky feel of her hair teasing his skin, her lips and tongue teasing his nipple. His cock thickened, the pleasure of possessing his first convert as intense and potent as it had been on day one. A pleasure all the sweeter with the night’s success.

  He’d gambled and won, hedged a bet w
hile recruiting Carol as his backup plan. Rather than force Laura’s cooperation and risk her working against him, he’d looked for a way to manipulate her submission and found it in Rinehart—a two-for-one deal—a man who could deliver both the cloning procedure and Laura.

  Walch’s hand slid into Carol’s hair, and he kissed her, a demanding kiss fed by the images in his head. Images of Rinehart touching Laura, kissing her, proving that the prickly little doctor could be brought to her knees, and he couldn’t wait to watch. Soon. Soon the cloning would be complete—soon he would have the rewards Adrian had promised him.

  Excitement flared within Walch, and his hands went to Carol’s slim neck, his teeth scraping a soft line down her jaw. He wanted to taste her blood again and, with each crimson droplet, to take more of her soul. He shifted into beastly form, his face half-Beast, the hunger inside too much to ignore. Instantly, his cuspids elongated as greed pulsed within him. He rolled Carol onto her stomach, slid on top of her and pinned her beneath him, though she did not fight. He shoved her hair aside and took what he wanted—he sank his teeth into her shoulder.

  Carol stiffened and gasped in one instant, and then sighed the next, pressing her body upward, trying to mold her back into him. The crimson sweetness of her blood spilled into his mouth, and with each drop, another piece of her soul floated into limbo. His mind floated into the euphoria, the taste of her on his tongue pure bliss—bliss that ended abruptly as he was yanked upward and away from Carol, thrown across the room with superhuman force.

  Walch landed against the wall with a thundering force, his head snapping back and hitting the hard surface, the sound of cracking wood splintering behind him. The air crackled, charged with a powerful presence.

  The soldier in him ignored the pain and reacted. With supreme effort, Walch shoved the weight of his naked body up the wall until he was sitting, facing his attacker, quickly making the three-second assessment his military training had taught him to make.