The Unforgiven (21 page)

He’s lying. He’s using you.
The whispering voice echoed inside her skull.

She scrubbed her hands over her ears. “He hasn’t hurt me,” she said out loud.

He forced himself on you.

“Forced? Ha! I was the one who climbed on top of him.”

If you trust him, he’ll destroy you.

“Shut up.”

Turning to the shower stall, she cranked the faucet. It protested with a metallic squeal. The stream of water was thin and lukewarm. The soap was brown and coarse. She didn’t care; she stripped off her clothes and stepped in. She scrubbed her hair and body until her skin was red and her fingers sore.

She dried off with the single scratchy, threadbare towel. Cautiously, she cracked the door and peered into the main room. The snake was still at the door, but it lay still, its head down. She ventured in, treading softly. The reptile didn’t move.

Clothes bundled under one arm, she retreated to the opposite side of the room from the door, near the window. As she stepped into her shorts, she slipped her hand in the left pocket. Her fingers closed on the amulet. The breath in her lungs left in a weakening rush. The union felt like a homecoming. The relic was safe.

She took out the disc and cradled it in her palm. Despite the deep crease across the center and the damaged central stone, the piece truly was beautiful. The Seed of Life pattern sparkled white. The red gem glowed in a slice of shuttered sunlight.

Dr. Ben-Meir’s corpse rose suddenly into her mind’s eye. A hot flush spread over her skin and she started to sweat. Ben-Meir was dead. Because of the relic? Because of her? Could the explosion that killed the archeologist really have been magical? Had it come from this bit of metal and stone in her hand? The very idea was ludicrous.

And yet . . . she could feel the magic in the disc. Feel its response to her touch. She’d been angry when Dr. Ben-Meir had tried to pry it from her hand. Had she somehow activated a deadly force against him? Could she have stopped it? Was it
her
fault he was dead?

She wished suddenly that Cade had gotten rid of the disc. He should have flung it into the desert. But coming close upon the heels of that thought was the realization that she would have fought to stop him. She would have fought him even if he’d insisted on holding the relic for her. If he took the disc, if she fought him for it, would the relic respond? Would it kill Cade, too?

That’s what Cade believed, she realized. That was why he’d handed her the relic with no protest. He knew she was connected to the disc. It was hers.
Hers.
That scared the crap out of her.

She looked at the door, at the snake acting as sentry. If the disc was magic, could she use it to get out? Unfortunately, she had no idea how and she wasn’t really eager to try. She had nowhere to go, anyway. She shoved the amulet back into her pocket and took to pacing back and forth in front of the window, from wobbly chair to paint-chipped table.

“Damn you, Cade. Where are you?” How could he go off and leave her trapped like this, without a word of explanation? She didn’t want to be alone. She needed him here to tell her what was going to happen next.

Suddenly, her heart missed a beat. Her skin began to tingle. Her head lightened, as if the top of her skull was lifting off. She looked down at her hands and saw a strange glow flow across her skin, a light that was somehow dark and bright at the same time, similar to the light coming from the crack in the door. Charcoal and pearl and indigo, it moved and sparkled on her palms. It reminded her of a rare black opal she’d once seen in a jeweler’s window.

Tongues of blue flame sprang to life in her palm. She stared at the phenomenon, aghast. Holy hell. Fire burned in her hand and she didn’t feel it.

Waves of panic hit in such quick succession she had to gasp to draw breath between them. What was happening? She shook her hands, rubbed them together. The fire persisted, racing along her fingers.

A moment later, the flames died as abruptly as they had sprung to life. Maddie was left trembling and close to tears. Was this part of the mysterious crisis Cade had spoken of? What other horrifying things were going to happen? What, exactly, was she expected to face? Cade had been long on dire
warnings, short on detail. He’d locked her in this tiny box of a prison and left her at the mercy of her terrified imagination.

Damn him.

She resumed pacing, rubbing her arms against a sudden chill, though in reality the room was quite warm. Fear and anger escalated with every step she took. She wanted Cade. Needed him. Hated him. Or rather, she hated her growing dependency upon him. Hated him for the secrets he was keeping from her.

The son of Samyaza is not to be trusted.

“Shut up!”

The needling voice inside her head fell silent.

Trembling slightly, trying to ignore the colors chasing over her skin, Maddie stepped to the window. The same dark light encircling the door frame ringed the window frame as well. She wasn’t surprised when the wooden shutters refused to budge.

She sneaked a look at the snake. The creature seemed unconcerned, so she slid the left shutter’s vertical bar and was rewarded when the slats tilted. Twin metal cables fastened on either side of the window supported an overhang just below the sill. Across the narrow alley, a pattern of cracks spiderwebbed across peeling stucco. Shabby wooden shutters, much like the ones on this window, were flung open. She detected no signs of movement in the rooms beyond.

At street level, off to the right, a restaurant board chalked with Hebrew characters was propped beside an open doorway. She wondered if the place ever had any customers. The alley, dingy and litter-strewn, was deserted save for a scrawny yellow cat. She watched its tail disappear around a corner.

She was just turning away when a new movement caught her eye at the end of the stone-paved alley. Human this time. Not Cade—the man didn’t have his height or his bulk. She adjusted the slant on the shutter slats and leaned forward to
get a better look. The man walked in the shadows on her side of the street, head down. A whisper of red light trailed after him. Just before he passed out of view beneath the overhang, though, he glanced up. Maddie choked back a strangled cry.

Dr. Ben-Meir! He wasn’t dead after all!

She clutched the sill, waiting for the archeologist to reappear on the other side of the overhang. Long seconds passed, in which she was sure her heart would beat its way right out of her chest. Had he entered the hotel? Did he know she was trapped here?

No. The man had only paused. Another moment brought his back into view as he made his way down the alley.

Maddie stared after him, noticing for the first time his hunched shoulders and slightly limping gait, and she turned away from the window in denial. It hadn’t been Dr. Ben-Meir after all. Of course not. He was dead. She’d seen that with her own eyes. The man in the alley was just a passerby.

She resumed pacing and worrying. The shifting patterns of dark light on her skin hadn’t abated; if anything, the colors had grown more pronounced. A glance in the bathroom mirror told her the phenomenon had spread to her face. Even her hair shone. A small lick of fire ignited on her index finger; she smothered it in her fist, unnerved by the fact that it didn’t hurt in the least. Where the hell was Cade? She was ready to jump out of her skin.

Though it felt like hours had passed, probably no more than ten minutes later his broad form filled the door. The strange illumination on the door frame faded as he entered. The door shut quietly behind him.

The snake slithered over his boot and wrapped around his calf. As it melted into his skin, Maddie stared.

“Your tattoo? It’s . . . alive?”

“In a way.” He made no further explanation. His eyes ran over her. “So. It’s begun.”

She lifted her hand. Dark pearlescent colors chased across her skin. Abruptly, she dropped it. “Where have you been?”

He held up a paper bag, an offering. She took and opened it, was greeted by the aroma of roasted meat. She forgot about the snake, forgot the colors on her skin.

“Food,” she breathed. “Thank you. I didn’t even realize how famished I was until right this second.”

“It’s to be expected,” he said. “Roasted lamb,” he added as she rolled greasy paper off pita wrapping savory slices of the meat. “Eat quickly. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover before the third wave.”

Hunger warred with apprehension. “But—”

“Questions later. Right now, eat.”

She nodded and tore into the food with a need that bordered on irrational. The lamb was barely cooked, dripping red juices. The first bite sent a shudder of delight through her body.

The last rays of the sun disappeared from the window as she ate. The instant she finished, Cade’s thumb hooked toward the door. Then he paused.

“Where’s the relic?”

“In my pocket. But don’t think you’re going to take it.”

He snorted. “Not to worry. I don’t have a death wish.”

So. She’d been right.

He grasped her elbow. “Come on.”

“Wait!” She resisted. “You said you’d answer some questions.”

“Later.”

“No. Now.”

She thought he’d refuse her demand, but after a brief hesitation he sighed and released her. “All right. But make it quick.”

She rubbed her arm, her gaze momentarily trapped by the shifting colors on her skin. “What
is
this?” she asked, lifting her arm.

“The beginning of the end,” he said. “Of your transition, I mean. The third wave of your crisis isn’t far off.”

“How long?”

“Hard to say, exactly. It varies. Between twenty-four and thirty hours, I’d guess.”

“What happens then? You keep talking about a transition, but you’ve given me hardly any details. What am I transitioning to?”

His eyes shifted to one side. “Your full powers as a Watcher adept.”

The fierce anticipation curling in her belly startled her. Her palms grew damp and she rubbed them on her shorts. “You’ve said as much. But what does that mean? What powers am I going to have once this is over?”

“I don’t know what all your talents will be,” Cade admitted. “Magic varies from clan to clan, from Watcher to Watcher. Though, there are traits and powers we all have in common. From birth we’re all tall and left-handed. After transition, you’ll gain strength and speed, and the ability to see in the dark. And you’ll experience your . . .” Frowning, he fell silent.

A ripple of fear passed through her. “My what?”

“In each adept, one or more of the five human senses is enhanced. For example, I have a heightened sense of smell.”

She sensed that wasn’t what he’d been about to say but decided to let it pass. “I . . . see trails of light around people’s heads and shoulders,” she offered. “And once, in the pit, everything looked . . . like more than it was.” She gave a short laugh. “If that makes any sense.”

“It does. Your sight is enhanced.”

She looked up. “I thought it was the tumor.”

“The tumor is gone,” he repeated.

She absorbed his certainty and realized she actually believed him. She wasn’t going to die. She was going to live. As a being she didn’t begin to understand.

“What other powers do Watchers have?”

“Power unique to each original Watcher is channeled to his descendants through shared ancestral memory. My clan is adept with the magic once practiced by Samyaza. Druid magic. Enchantments and illusions, mostly. We draw power from earth elements, from soil, roots, natural stones . . .”

Maddie stared at her hands. “A few minutes ago,” she remarked slowly, “my palm caught fire. It . . . didn’t hurt.”

Cade didn’t seem surprised. “Clan Azazel is adept with fire elements. They’re masters of alchemy.”

Her brows rose. “Alchemy? You mean like turning lead into gold?”

Cade’s lips compressed. “For a start.”

The waters of the Mediterranean shone darkly; the sparkling lights of the coastal towns were strung along the shore like diamonds in a necklace. The beauty was lost on Cade. The quicker he left the land of his cursed ancestors behind, the happier he would be. He and Maddie stood atop the rise of desert just beyond town. Their jeep, run dry of petrol, sat abandoned on the road at the base of the hill.

Maddie’s second wave had forced him to delay longer than he would have liked. Thankfully, her sexual hunger was sated at the moment. But with each passing moment, the opalescent glow of her skin grew brighter. She balanced on the cusp of her transition. The pheromones pouring off her skin escalated Cade’s arousal.

He wondered how much time they had. Not long, he was sure. The safest place for Maddie’s transition was London, with Artur or Brax standing guard. He’d even sent a text to Brax telling him to expect their arrival. But the thought of involving Artur or his brother in Maddie’s transition sickened
Cade. He didn’t want either of them anywhere near her when the crisis broke.

His mind flashed forward, anticipating that moment. His body hardened against a backdrop of apprehension. Could he bring Maddie safely through?
Yes.
He couldn’t afford to doubt his abilities now. He couldn’t bear to think that he might fail, might have to watch her die. Or worse, might have to kill her.

Beside him, Maddie rubbed her bare arms against the chill of the desert night. “What are we doing here?”

His mind ran along the link stretching from his essence to hers. Since completing the sex act, their bond had strengthened. His sense of her emotions was strong. He could even hear into some of her thoughts, though the darkest corners of her mind were still closed to him. She was tethered to his will.

At some level, she knew it. Of course, she didn’t yet know how strong those chains were. Soon he would show her.

“Are we . . . meeting someone out here? Another member of your clan?”

“No.”

She slipped her hand into the pocket of her shorts. He knew she touched the Watcher amulet.

Her bond with the talisman was an unexpected complication. Cade was more than wary of the danger the piece represented. At the moment, its magic seemed dormant. But he couldn’t count on it remaining so. Not with Ben-Meir’s fate waving like a warning flag. Given Maddie’s obsession with the piece, Cade was sure the amulet had been created by one of her ancestors. Perhaps even by Azazel himself. If so, the secret to its magic was buried in Maddie’s ancestral memories.