I WAS STILL SHAKING WHEN the plane descended and my ears popped. Then a thump and the tires skidded down the runway. It had been an hour since Jasper had tried to see my Ink and every inch of me was screaming at the memories of Drake’s voice as he calmly held me, whispering soothing words in my ear. But nothing was soothing. His words were a knife stabbing me with every syllable.
I couldn’t walk for weeks after he killed my Ink.
“Max.” Jasper stood beside my seat, his hand rose as if he was about to touch my shoulder, but he lowered it to his side.
I counted to ten, bringing the shield down over my mind. I couldn’t let him get to me. I wasn’t that vulnerable girl anymore. I knew how to fight. I knew how to protect myself.
I titled my chin up. “Touch my Ink again and I’ll kill you.”
He met my stare head on, and for a second, I thought he was going to shoot back a smartass remark, but this time he surprised me and gave an abrupt nod. “Yeah.” He walked to the side door, opened it and strode down the steps.
When I came down the stairs, he was leaning up against the plane, arms crossed with the confidence of a proud lion defending his mountain and the mountain was Fiona. I walked over and reached for my blades he had in his hand. He put them behind his back and with his other arm, snagged me around the waist and pulled me tight to him. My hands automatically went to his chest, one palm flat against his heart.
His voice was low and graveled with that panty-dampening hint of an accent. “I’m sorry, Max. I shouldn’t have . . . fuck, I’m sorry.”
My breath caught in my throat. There was no cocky grin, no playful gleam in his eyes; instead, I saw concern with furrowed brows and lips pulled downward.
I was so taken aback by the simple yet powerful words that I remained quiet and still in his arms. I knew something had changed between us in that moment. His ability to apologize and mine to . . . yes, I accepted it because I knew getting those words from Jasper was monumental.
“What happened to you, Jasper?”
His expression immediately hardened. He put his finger under my chin and his thumb slowly caressed the dimple. The softness in it completely contradicted the harsh, cold look in his eyes. “I’m good at three things: killing, fucking and not caring whether I’ve done either one.” His fingers trickled over my chin, down my neck then between my breasts and lower. Then he was under my shirt, his skin touching mine as he lightly graced the pads of his fingers over my naked skin. Suddenly, his hand left me and he moved away. “Max, I want you to . . . I need you to never forget that.”
I couldn’t understand him. He was playful and flirted, yet was cruel and unkind as if he wanted to hurt me. But I felt something when we touched and it was more than desire. It was stronger, and if either of us gave in to it, I had a feeling it would be the destruction of who we’d become.
“Max?”
I gasped at the familiar voice and turned. Xamien shut the door of a black Audi and walked toward me with a broad smile on his face. The tension in my shoulders instantly disappeared as I met the bright warmth in his eyes. If there was one person in this world I cared about, Xamien was it. Every time I saw him, the memory of him lifting me up in his arms and carrying me out of Drake’s hell brought a wealth of relief.
It was like being saved all over again.
I knew he wouldn’t hug me. I’d kept my distance from everyone, including him, but something had shifted in me and I wanted to feel the familiarity of Xamien around me.
I stepped toward him and wrapped my arms around his waist. It took him a second before he embraced me and then kissed the top of my head. I pressed my cheek to his solid chest and he squeezed me. The Taldeburu exuded an intense sexuality with the way he held himself. Tall and muscular with aristocratic features and an air of confidence. He had never pushed me to tell him anything about myself and now I knew why . . . he’d known I was a Healer and probably suspected I was hiding it because of what I’d been through. It didn’t matter though. Xamien had given me a home and most of all, he’d trusted me when I’d given him nothing to trust.
“You okay?”
I nodded and pulled back. “Yes, sir.” I heard Jasper grunt.
My gaze shot to him and I noticed his eyes flicker down to Xamien’s hand still settled on my waist. The glare . . . it was filled with irritation. I was a Healer and couldn’t feel emotion like a Scar Reflector, but no one needed an enhanced ability to feel the tension radiating off him.
Xamien was obviously pretty immune to Jasper’s assholishness or knew that it was a cover because I was learning fast that everything out of Jasper’s mouth wasn’t the truth.
Jasper’s eyes trailed back up to my face and his scowl deepened. All those little things he noticed about me . . . how he watched me . . . how he looked after me when I had the nightmare . . . those things couldn’t be actions of a man who didn’t care.
And that realization made my heart skip a beat as we stared at one another until Xamien’s voice drew us apart. “I can sense the attraction between the two of you.”
Xamien was a Reflector and could read emotions; however, a Reflector didn’t have to break through your shields to feel them. When I looked up at his face, it was murderous as he glared at Jasper. What made it worse was Jasper shrugged.
“It’s not like that,” I quickly said.
Xamien ignored me, his focus on Jasper. “You told me you wouldn’t. I warned you to keep your hands off.” The words were ground out one by one, like a fist pounding on a drum. “I should’ve known better. I did know better.”
The tension between them caused the air to shift and I quickly put my hand on Xamien’s arm to draw his attention back to me. “Xamien, I’m fine. We’re okay.”
“I don’t give a fuck about him.”
Whoa. I hadn’t expected something like that coming from Xamien. He was always laid back and casual, but this was the side others feared. Xamien reached forward and pushed my hair back from my neck. I heard Jasper cough and mutter something under his breath. Xamien must have distinguished his words because he started to go for him, but I latched onto his arm.
“What’s going on, Xamien?”
Xamien raised his head and looked toward the car. The air grew colder and then a grey cloud of mist appeared.
I stiffened as a figure emerged from the fog and I met the ice-blue eyes of Waleron. He looked at me and for one second, I wondered if he knew who I was.
He was an ancient, upheld the laws above all others and protected the Scars with his life. He was exceptionally private and no one even knew where he lived. But two things everyone did know was that he endured sixty-one years of torture by a CWO, a Lilac, and he would do anything to protect the Scars—anything.
He strode toward us and I shifted a little closer to Xamien, who responded by squeezing my waist reassuringly.
“Xamien. Jasper,” Waleron said then turned to me. “Max.” I shivered as he said my name. It was as if he knew it wasn’t my real name. Was it possible? Did he know I was Breanna and lied about my name all these years?
Xamien nodded with respect. Jasper didn’t say anything; actually, I noticed he avoided looking at Waleron all together, which was odd because Jasper met everyone head on.
“You tell her who is after her?” And Waleron’s voice matched his ice-cold glare—abrupt and harsh.
My heart jumped and then started running a sprint. Heat flooded my body as my nerves began to shoot off like fireworks. No, don’t say it. Please don’t say it.
“Not yet,” Xamien said.
“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Jasper’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “Waleron, damn it. You bastard. You told me you didn’t know who the fuck was after her.”
Waleron didn’t even flinch as he stood calmly and kept his eyes on me. I knew. No one had to say anything. I knew what they were going to tell me.
“The Scar looking for you,” Xamien said. “He’s been seen all over the world for the past six months looking for a girl. A girl about twenty years old with scars on her and a burn on the top of her foot over a tattoo.” Bile rose in my throat and I had to swallow several times. “His name is Drake and he’s an ancient Scar, Max.” Oh, God. It was Drake. “This Scar . . . the Goddess killed his Ink because he was too powerful. He wanted to destroy the Scars and be the only one to rule. When his Ink died, it weakened his lungs and took most of his powers away including his ability to Trace.”
I didn’t hear his words anymore and I didn’t need to. I knew the story. What they didn’t yet know was that Drake had kept me prisoner for six years as his private Healer.
And now he was looking for me and didn’t care who knew it.
Black spotted my vision as the overwhelming fear catapulted me into a soaring reel of emotions that suddenly crashed to the ground and left me gasping for air.
“Max,” Xamien gently pulled me around to face him. “The house I found you in . . . there were vampires but . . . were they followers of Drake? Was he who we rescued you from? Is that why you hid that you’re a Healer? Because you’ve been scared he’d find you?”
My breath locked in my throat as I thought of Drake. He could Trace again. He was looking for me. He had hordes of vampire followers to help him. He had humans helping him. Who else? CWOs?
“Max, we need answers in order to protect you.” Xamien rubbed my arms up and down, trying to comfort me, but all I could think about was Drake.
“Yes. I healed him for six years.” I closed my eyes as the fear grabbed hold of me and brought me under. I trembled and heard voices echoing, arguing, but I couldn’t focus on anything except that Drake was the one coming for me.
Drake would kill Xamien. He’d kill anyone who got in his way, just like he had my Talde and my mother. He was resilient, unwavering, determined.
I felt as if I was standing naked in the freezing cold and frost bite was slowly eating away at my skin.
“Max!” It was Jasper’s curt tone that cut into me and I slowly opened my eyes. Jasper had his hands on my hips and I was clutching his shirt as I stood in front of him, not even knowing how I got there. “He won’t find you.”
But no words could calm the rising storm of emotions. The numbness Jasper had chipped away at was crumbling—fast. “Yes, he will.” I forgot about Xamien and Waleron as I looked up into Jasper’s eyes, tears filling them as everything I’d fought to avoid came crashing down on me. “Did you know he walked the streets of different cities every day? All around the world just so he’d be able to Trace to any place he wanted. I healed him every week so he’d be strong enough to Trace.” Jasper’s entire body pulsated with tension as he looked over at Waleron who stood beside us. “I was taken when I was ten. He killed my mother and Talde. He burned everything and then he . . .”
Then he tortured me for six years; watched me suffer. Forced me to heal him. He had left reminders on my body, so every time I looked at myself in the mirror I saw him.
“Jesus, the Talde in England. The little girl, Breanna,” Xamien said beneath his breath. “Everything was burned to the ground.”
I nodded and stepped back from Jasper’s grip on my hips. I was instantly cold and wanted the comfort of his hands again. It was possessive and protective and yet, Jasper was neither. Not really. He was both at that moment merely because he was paid to be.
Xamien put his hand on my shoulder as if knowing I needed some sort of support. “But there are no Healers missing. How is it that the bastard can Trace now? You said you had to heal his lungs every week so he’d be able to Trace.”
Everyone was quiet.
Waleron had yet to react to anything I was saying, but he rarely reacted—stone cold.
“You should’ve fuckin’ told me it was that bastard who did that to her. That it was Drake after her.” Jasper’s voice erupted in the silence. I jerked but his abrupt words weren’t directed at me; they were at Waleron. “Jesus.” He turned and strode away and I watched him, the muscles in his back tight and his hand running through his hair as he stalked to the car then slammed his fist down on the roof. The sound echoed and I knew there had to be one hell of a dent.
When he turned around and started walking back, his eyes never left mine as the fear slid over my skin in a suffocating black tar. My fear was not of Jasper; it was what I knew had to have happened. This was worse. Way worse. There was only one possibility as to how Drake was strong enough to Trace without a Healer.
Jasper reached me and without hesitating, he wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me into him while his other hand cupped my chin. “I can protect you.” I tried to shake my head, but his hand prevented me. “I’m good at what I do.”
“You’re a killer. That is what you do.” I said it gently and I hadn’t meant it to be mean, just that it was the truth. Jasper was a killer. He was good at that. He was the hunter, not the hunted and at the moment, we were the hunted by an ancient Scar that could Trace and now . . . now he was stronger than ever. Because Drake was now vampire.
Jasper’s jaw clenched and his lips pursed together. Then his gaze drifted to Waleron as he said, “Yeah, well someone has to do what needs to be done.” I thought I saw Waleron give a microscopic nod, but I couldn’t be sure and his expression never changed.
“He’s vampire,” Waleron said as if reading my thoughts. “It’s the only way he could be strong again without a Healer.”
Xamien swore under his breath. There was no other possibility, except that Drake had gone hybrid. “Balen has a strong ability to Track vampires. We can call him.”
Balen was a Scar Tracker who was with a Talde in Toronto. He had once drunk vampire blood in exchange for saving a woman’s life. He’d nearly Transitioned into a vampire, but fought the hunger of the blood thirst and defeated it.
But it wouldn’t matter if they found Drake. If he’d Transitioned, then he was more than likely stronger than ever and would stop at nothing to find me. But why would he want me now if he didn’t need me to heal his lungs?
My legs gave out when I realized why. Jasper held me tight against him, his breath up against my neck.
Drake knew. He knew I could heal his Ink. That was why he was searching for me. It was the only possibility. The timing was right. Six months ago, I’d communicated with Waleron’s Ink. Six months ago, Drake supposedly started asking questions about a girl with scars.
“What is it?” Jasper whispered in my mind.
I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell anyone. If they knew I was capable of healing Drake’s Ink, Waleron would kill me and then Xamien would retaliate. But healing Drake’s Ink would make him almost undefeatable. A hybrid with an Ink so deadly the Goddess had to kill it . . .
Then it hit me. Drake wanted to change me into a vampire. I’d be a slave to him—he’d be my master. I’d have no choice but to do what he wanted and I’d be forced to heal his Ink. But I had one small advantage. If Drake got to me, I had to willingly drink his blood in order to Transition.
But no matter what, if Waleron knew, he’d never allow me to live and risk the lives of the Scars.
I looked over at Xamien who was scowling at Jasper. I loved Xamien; he was the closest I had to family and just like my mother and Talde had tried to protect me, so would Xamien. He’d even go against Waleron.
“I’ll stay with her,” Xamien said. “If he’s a vampire, then I’m better protecting her than Jasper.”
Jasper’s arms tensed around me and for a minute, I thought he was going to argue, but he didn’t and I hated that I felt disappointed. Then I was mad that I did.
“Xamien,” Waleron said in a calm, steady voice. “I need you with me. We have a better chance finding him being able to Trace. You and I are the only Scars left with the ability besides Drake.” He nodded to Jasper. “Two weeks. Take her.”
Jasper hesitated and then nodded and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the car. “Jasper wait.” He kept tugging me behind him and I looked back at Xamien who was now head to head with Waleron and the tension was palpable.
“No way am I letting Xamien have you.” Jasper’s voice was abrupt and I was startled at his choice of words. What he didn’t realize was that I hadn’t been about to say that. I’d wanted to say goodbye to Xamien. “I want my payment and I won’t get it if you land in that asshole’s hands.” He ground out the words as though he was angry at them.
I stopped as fury boiled over in my chest. “I’m already in an asshole’s hands,” I shot back.
“Very funny, princess.”
“So, now I’m a princess?”
“Yeah, you’re a fuckin’ princess. And right now, you’re my princess.” He pushed down on my head. “Get in the car.”
I did and he slammed the door.
“Max . . . or do you want me to call you Breanna now?” Xamien’s comforting voice entered my head.
“Max, sir,” I replied. That was who I was now. For six years, I was no one, something used, an object, and when I became Max, I was a person again. Xamien didn’t use me or hurt me. He just loved me for the broken girl I’d become.
I was stronger than Breanna. I fought to bury the fear Drake had instilled in me and even though it lived there still, it didn’t own me like it used to. And now Jasper . . . I looked over at him as he folded into the car. Jasper unearthed the fear and made me want to fight for the girl I was now.
“We’ll find him,” Xamien said. “You know I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I did know and that was what terrified me. “Xamien?”
“Yeah?”
“I . . . love you. Not like . . . well . . .”
“Love you, too, Max.” He paused. “Promise you’ll be careful with Jasper. You know what I mean, right?”
The time to be careful had already passed. “Yeah, I’ll be careful.”
Jasper skidded out of the small airport gates and horns honked as he went through the red light. He didn’t say anything and neither did I for ten minutes.
Finally, I broke. “What’s with two weeks?”
He glanced at me and his grip on the steering wheel tightened, the leather crackling beneath the pressure. “My job’s over.”
“And then?” My voice quaked and I hated that I was letting the fear back in, but it wasn’t just Drake who now blanketed me with uncertainty. It was Xamien’s safety and the feelings I had for Jasper. It was what I might have to do in order to protect them all. What my Talde should’ve done years ago. What I should’ve tried to do during those six years with Drake, but I was too scared and weak.
“Jesus, Max. He won’t get to you. Do you hear me?” When I didn’t answer, he repeated, “He. Won’t. Get. To. You. Say it.”
I didn’t because eventually Drake would get to me. “And if he’s not caught before your job is over?”
“You’ll be fine. I have a place you’ll be safe.”
“So, you just leave me there and that’s it?”
Jasper slammed his hand into the dash and the vibration shook the car. “Max, damn it. I can’t give more than that. I’m already too clos—” The car jerked forward even faster. “I can’t.”
I was uncertain what he meant by I can’t. But it sounded as if he was talking aloud to himself rather than to me.
I looked out the window.
He pulled up to a hotel a few hours later and this time it was a nice one with a beautiful garden out front and a yellow arch over the driveway. It was small, maybe fifty rooms, and was only four stories. The mountains were behind it and I imagined there was skiing here in the winter.
I got out and followed him into the lobby where we were greeted by stunning marble floors and a cascading staircase. Jasper ignored it all and guided me to the front desk where a young, impeccably dressed woman greeted us.
I noticed her eyes roam appreciatively over Jasper and expected him to procure a half-cocked grin. Except this time, he was all business to the girl’s obvious disappointment. He insisted on a room on the ground floor and then paid for it in cash. Without looking at me, he grabbed my hand and we walked down the row of rooms until we reached the last one. He unlocked the door, flicked on the light and then yanked the curtains closed, blocking the view of the mountain.
“Get some rest.”
I stood at the door while he checked the room over. “I was thinking,” he went into the bathroom and washed his hands. When he came out I continued, “what if we use me to lure Drake?” I knew it was risky, but they didn’t know Drake like I did. He’d never give up. He was relentless in his pursuit to be the most powerful Scar. That was all he talked about.
Jasper bent over and shuffled through his bag, ignoring me.
“I can talk to this Adrian guy and make certain you get your money.” Fear could break you, but it could also drive you to conquer it and I’d been trying for four years by practicing with my blades. Needing to feel strong again. I was a weak puppet used by a man for my ability. “I know him. I know his weaknesses.” And I was stronger now. I could destroy his Ink so it never had the chance of being reborn again. I didn’t know for certain if I could do it or if it was possible, but at the moment it was the best I had.
“No!” Jasper stood up straight and kicked his bag to the side. “Fuck. No.”
“It makes sense. He won’t kill me. I’m a possession to him. I belong to him. He wouldn’t—”
“Jesus, Max. You hear what you said? You don’t fuckin’ belong to him. And that isn’t happening. Period.”
“I want it to end, damn it!” I shouted. “I’m sick of living in a bubble. I want out, Jasper. We can use . . .”
Jasper started toward me, his hands curled into fists, tension in every part of his body. I raised my chin, but my heart was slamming into my ribcage and it wasn’t in fear. I wasn’t scared of Jasper, his words may be harsh, but there was something in him I trusted. That speck in his eyes that refused to let me in, but revealed his vulnerability, his softness.
He grabbed my arms, fingers bruising. “He is never getting near you again. Two weeks, two fuckin’ years, two hundred years. He isn’t touching you again.”
“I know him better than anyone. I can get him to trust me and—”
“You think he’ll trust you for one second? He’ll chain you up and make certain you never escape him again. Then if you’re lucky, he’ll only torture you. Unlucky, he’ll find someone you care about and torture them right in front of you. And then . . . then you’ll willingly drink his blood and become his slave.”
“But if we can—”
“What would you do if he had Xamien hanging from his fingernails being tortured day after day? Tell me, Max. Will you break then? Or will you watch him suffer for weeks? Hear his screams, hoping someone will come in time to save you both.” His jaw pulsated and his voice was laced with anger. I realized, this wasn’t about me—this was about him.
“Jasper—”
“But they’ll come too late and she’ll be dead.”
My breath hitched. He said she. What had happened to him? Who was she?
“Fuck!” Suddenly, he pushed me away from him and strode into the bathroom and slammed the door. “You don’t belong to him,” he shouted. “And he won’t get to you.”
I heard the tap turn on and then a loud bang. There was no doubt something in Jasper’s past was exactly as he said. Coldness seeped into me as I imagined what could have happened. Had he made a choice like that? Was that why he was alone? Why he kept his distance from everyone? What made him this way?
He opened the door again half an hour later. Water dripped off his chin and the strands of his hair. And his face—darkness. Ravaged pain had crept into the depths of his eyes and sat there unhidden beneath the cocky confidence he exuded. A beast lingered and it looked ready to attack.
While curled up in the chair, he went to walk by me. I don’t know why I did it except it was instinctive. I reached out and placed my hand on his forearm. There was a stark contrast to my white skin against the black vivid ink of his tattoos. We contrasted in a lot of ways . . . except for what we both hid from others and ourselves.
“I’m sorry. For whatever happened to you . . . and her.”
He jerked, but not away from me, just muscles flexing beneath my palm.
Our eyes met and I saw the moment his raw pain shifted and became hidden beneath a veil of cocky confidence. I slid my hand down his arm until my fingers linked with his.
He glanced down at our interlocked hands. “Unless you want to fuck right now, let me go.”
I knew he was acting out, just like I did by being cold and silent. It was my safety net to stay closed off. Jasper was doing the same thing.
But I was tired of my safety net and I wanted it to break.
I slipped my hand from his, stood, then grabbed the bottom of my shirt and yanked it up over my head.