“Don’t be sad,” he said.
Tears pooled in her eyes, gleaming in the waning sunlight. “I can’t help it. I don’t want you to do this.”
He couldn’t expect her to understand why he had no choice. She hadn’t seen the violence and ruin that someone like him could cause. Before, when his emotions had been dead and cold, he hadn’t cared if what he did hurt someone, so long as it helped his brothers, but now, staring into her eyes, he did care. The person he was most likely to hurt would be her, and that wasn’t something he could allow himself to do.
“Hush,” he told her. “Everything is going to be fine.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Words weren’t going to do any good. There was nothing more he could say that wouldn’t cause her more pain, but there were still a few more minutes of sunlight left, and he wanted to spend every one of them with her.
“Let’s go inside,” he said.
She nodded, getting out of the car and gathering up some of the things she’d brought with them. Iain found the key under a flowerpot and unlocked the door.
He’d been here before once or twice. Like all the other Gerai houses, it was modest and unassuming, keeping people from poking their nose too close. Not that they’d find much. Stores of food and spare clothing. Maybe a sword tucked away in a closet. Clean linens, and sometimes, if they were lucky, fresh food was stocked in the refrigerator.
The furnishings were worn and out-of-date, but clean and sturdy enough to hold the weight of him and his brothers. This home had only two bedrooms, both with large beds and closets filled with clean clothes. Wood was laid in the fireplace, and he lit the kindling, hoping the warmth would help comfort Jackie.
He wasn’t sure how he was going to slip away from her. She wasn’t going to let him go easily. He could tie her up, but she would probably just burn through the bindings. He could knock her out, but that would leave her open to attack, and that was unacceptable.
There was only one thing he could think to do: call Cain to come and physically restrain her while Iain did what he needed to do.
Iain waited until Jackie slipped into the bathroom before he lifted the phone from the kitchen wall and dialed Cain.
“It’s Iain,” he said.
“Where the hell are you? People were turning Dabyr upside down looking for you. I got out just before they started checking lifemarks. Thanks for the warning, by the way.”
“I need you to meet us. I’m going to do the right thing, but if you don’t come and stop Jackie, she’ll follow me right into the fight.”
“I don’t know,” said Cain. “If I do that, she’s going to hate me. It’s not exactly how I want things to start out, you know?”
“She’ll forgive you. Her heart’s too soft not to. But I need you to do this. For her, and for me. I need to know she’s safe so I can move on.”
Cain was quiet for a moment. “Yeah. Okay. You’re right. Her safety has to come first. Just tell me where you are.”
“The Gerai house near where Angus and Gilda were killed.”
There was a low exhalation of breath on the other end of the line, as if Cain was psyching himself up for an unpleasant task. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, but it will be a while before I can reach you.”
“I’ll wait. And please, don’t tell anyone where we are. I don’t want this to be any harder on Jackie than it has to be. I’m in control.”
“For now.”
“Just hurry. I want this done tonight.”
“I’m on my way now.”
Iain hung up the phone just as Jackie opened the bathroom door. Her hair was damp at her temples, and her nose was red. She looked as though she might have been crying, but with her eyes bloodshot from overexertion, he couldn’t be sure.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“No, but I should eat. It’s been a while.”
He rummaged in the fridge for something, but came up with only a couple of apples. The freezer held several labeled dishes that had promise. He pulled out some pot roast and popped it into the microwave.
Jackie plopped down at the table in exhaustion. Sadness radiated out from her in waves so strong they made his ring vibrate.
That was his fault. He should have stopped her from helping him escape, rather than going along with her plan. He hadn’t realized just how hard this would be on her.
“You’re going to be fine,” he said, hoping to reassure her.
“No, I’m not. I want you to promise me you won’t do anything stupid and kill yourself.”
He ignored her request and started a pot of coffee.
“I mean it, Iain. This isn’t a joke. If I have to, I’ll lock you up myself.” The venom in her voice would have been cute had he not believed every word she’d said.
“Let’s not talk about that. Let’s just enjoy a meal together.”
“A last meal? How the hell am I supposed to choke that down?”
Frustration gripped him hard, chafing against his skin. The beast growled, clawing the bars of its cage. It would have been so easy to just let go and give in to temptation—set the monster free and let her see what it was he was protecting her from.
But he couldn’t do that to her. She’d already suffered more fear and pain in the few years she’d been alive than she deserved. The sun would be down soon. Cain would come and restrain her. It would all be over in a few hours.
He knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. Her fingers were cold and shaking. He rubbed them between his palms and looked into her eyes. He wasn’t very good at erasing memories, but his connection to Jackie would make the task easier.
Iain slipped inside her thoughts as if he had been born for the task. He gathered tiny specks of power from the air and channeled them along his skin. His hands heated, and he whispered thoughts of calm comfort to her mind. After a few seconds, her eyelids drooped and she swayed in her seat.
If he could have, he would have erased all hints of himself from her memory, but that was beyond his skills. Instead, he dropped a filmy veil over her grief and worry, shielding her from them.
He searched for something cheerful to brighten her mood, and what came instantly to hand was the image of little Samson cradled in her arms, and the memory of them entwined in passion. He gathered those images and used them to hide her darker thoughts, making the happy things glow brighter so that her focus remained there.
At least for a while. He knew his fix was temporary, but for now, it would ease her and get her through the next few hours.
The microwave beeped. Iain set her now-warm hands in her lap and finished preparing their dinner. They ate in silence, her movements slow and methodical. He watched her the entire time, gauging the effects of his efforts.
Her gaze was distant, but calm. She seemed sleepy, but those distressing waves of grief were no longer seeping out of her.
Once her plate was empty, he said, “You should get some rest.”
Her eyes jerked upward as he spoke, as if he’d startled her. She blinked a few times, looking around in confusion as if she didn’t recognize where she was. “Rest?”
Iain rose from his seat and went around to her side of the table. Her head tilted back, and she gave him a dark, womanly smile that was filled with the promise of paradise.
He sucked in a sharp breath and tightened his control on his monster in the nick of time. It hurled itself against the bars, rattling Iain down to the soles of his feet. It wanted her. It wanted to hold her down and fuck her until the rage was gone. Which would never happen.
One single look, and the beast thought she should be his.
Iain stood there, gritting his teeth in an effort to maintain control. He closed his eyes, hoping that not looking at her would help.
It didn’t. The monster simply formed its own image, remembering the way she looked naked and sprawled across the bed, her skin flushed, her lips red and swollen.
Her hands slid under his shirt, flexing against his bare skin.
Iain let out a low, animal sound that was part torment, part pleasure. Feeling her hands on him, feeling her touch his lifemark, was almost more than he could stand. He wanted her, too, but he was having trouble fighting both his own desires as well as the beast’s.
Her fingernails bit into his skin, and he heard her chair scrape over the vinyl floor. The hem of his shirt dragged along his ribs, and her soft mouth pressed a kiss over his heart.
His abs clenched, and his knuckles popped under the strain of his tightened fists. He wanted to touch her so bad, to slide his fingers into her hair and hold her head while she kissed him.
He didn’t dare move. Not his hands, not his mouth. If he gave even an inch, his control would snap and she’d end up bent over the kitchen table with her jeans around her ankles and his cock shoved as deep in her sweet pussy as it could go.
Another sound rose from his chest—a wordless plea for mercy—but if she understood it, she didn’t listen. Instead, her tongue flicked out across his nipple, sending a string of chain lightning down his spine. His cock throbbed against his fly and sweat popped out along his hairline.
Her teeth closed gently on his nipple, and then she eased the erotic sting with her tongue.
Iain was fighting a battle on two fronts—fighting his own desires, as well as those of the beast. And he was losing on both. He needed to retreat, to get as far away from her as he could.
He shifted his weight to take a step back, but it was too late.
“Kiss me,” she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair and pulling his head down to hers.
He tried to tell her how close she was to facing his monster, but his mouth wouldn’t work. He scrambled for their link, letting her glimpse what he was protecting her from. The violent need and lust hovering just inside of him. It shamed him to let her see that part of himself, but his feelings here were not important. Jackie’s were.
Her body shook, and her grip on his head tightened. He forced his eyes to open, sure he’d see disgust lining her face. Instead, her pupils had grown huge with desire. A fragile whimper passed her lips, and it was filled with the sound of want, not fear.
Lust pulsed between them, tinted with feminine need. Her lust, not his. She’d seen the beast and it hadn’t scared her away.
“You don’t want that,” he told her. “You can’t want that.”
“I want you. All of you, even the darker parts.”
She didn’t know what she was saying. There was no way she could truly understand what she would face.
He opened his mouth to order her to run away, but before the words could come out, her mouth was on his, hot and sweet and demanding. Her tongue plunged inside, and she fed him a soft groan of satisfaction.
Desire radiated out from her, filling their link with her need. He could feel her skin warm and the flesh between her thighs grow damp and swollen. There was an emptiness there that she wanted him to fill, a deep ache of longing that only he could drive away.
Iain was unable to resist her need. He was powerless, unwilling to let her suffer, unable to hold back anything she wanted.
But he couldn’t let the monster free. Not this time. Not when it knew that he was planning to go to his death tonight. If the beast broke free, it would protect itself, and Iain might never be able to regain control. Whatever it took, whatever he had to do to control the monster, he’d do. For her. One last time.