The Darkest Touch dh-3 Read online

  “Don’t. . touch me.” She tried to bat his hand away, but dammit, it felt good-calming. She was so pathetic. Angry and sick to her stomach. She felt both violated and needy, yet desperate to be held and comforted. She wanted this nightmare to go away. She wanted it not to have happened.

  Once she got her breathing under control, she felt less like passing out, though the sick feeling in her stomach hadn’t gone away. She sat upright, shouldering his arm away, refusing to acknowledge the tenderness of his touch.

  She’d thought they had a connection, something that went deeper than anything she’d ever experienced with a man. He got her, understood her. Or so she’d thought.

  You are so dumb, Izzy.

  The mattress gave as he sat next to her. “Isabelle, let me explain this to you.”

  “You violated my privacy,” she shot back. “You violated me. There’s nothing to explain.”

  “You’re right. I did take what was yours. And I’m sorry. I had to know about you.”

  She turned her head to glare at him. “Couldn’t you have asked?”

  “Would you have told me what was in your mother’s journal?”

  She looked away again. No. She wouldn’t have. No one needed to know what she was. She didn’t know what she was. Not really. Only that she wasn’t. . normal. If what her mother said was true.

  Could it be true? She hadn’t even discussed it with Angelique, too afraid her sister would look at her with condemnation in her eyes. Hadn’t she always been less than Angelique? Hadn’t she been trying to prove herself equal to or better than her sister her entire life?

  One good sister, one bad. How could that have happened? They were twins. Shouldn’t they be exactly alike? Why wasn’t Mother here so she could talk to her about it?

  She blinked to fight the tears, needing distance and a place where she could be alone. “Go away, Dalton. Take me back to the dock. I want off this boat.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “Yes, you can. I’m demanding you return me to the dock.”

  “No.”

  She stood, wobbling a little, cursing the alcohol she’d consumed earlier. Steadying herself, she faced him. “Are you kidnapping me?”

  “I’m protecting you.”

  “Bullshit.” She stared at the journal, trying to determine if it was worth trying to grab for it, then make a run. She was a good swimmer. Maybe she could get to the small boat anchored to the yacht.

  Stupid, Izzy. You’d never make it. And the diary would be ruined.

  Not that she ever wanted to read it again. Maybe it should be destroyed. Wasn’t it bad enough Dalton had found and read it? She should have burned it after she found it.

  “If you’d calm down for five minutes and let me explain what my mission is here-”

  “Oh. I’m a mission now. So fucking me was part of your mission?”

  He dragged his hand through his hair. “No, it wasn’t.”

  “Then what was it?”

  His gaze never wavered. “Really great sex.”

  Touché. What did she expect? Romance? Declarations of undying love and devotion? She barely knew him, and she’d gotten exactly what she’d asked for. No-strings sex. So why did her stomach twist at the word?

  “You’re right. It was sex. Nothing more than that.” She wanted to lie and tell him it wasn’t even very good sex just so she could hurt him, but she couldn’t. It had been phenomenal.

  “Isabelle, I’m sorry. I’ve done this all wrong. I shouldn’t have gotten involved with you. It wasn’t my intent to hurt you.”

  He took a step forward; she took one back.

  “You haven’t hurt me. To hurt me I’d have to care. The only way you hurt me was to take and read my mother’s journal. And I want it back. It means something to me.”

  “I promise I’ll give it back to you, but there’s vital information in here that my people need to see.”

  She let her eyelids drift shut for a moment, imagining the worst-her reputation, her entire world crashing down upon her as everything she had built was ruined when word of what was in her mother’s journal got out.

  “This isn’t for national media consumption, Isabelle. The people who will see this information are discreet, under the radar.”

  “Who?”

  “Sit down.”

  She hesitated. But part of her was curious enough to want to know. Maybe Dalton was delusional. He did say something about hunting demons for a living. Then again, maybe he was the one person who could help her figure out who and what she really was.

  She was torn, both hating and needing Dalton. She needed someone to help her. She didn’t want it to be him. She wanted it to be him.

  Could she possibly be more screwed up?

  She moved back to the edge of the bed and sat, staring up at him.

  “I work for an organization known as the Realm of Light. We hunt demons. Specifically, we hunt the Sons of Darkness, powerful demon Lords under the direction of the great evil one.”

  “The great evil one. You mean like Lucifer?”

  Dalton shrugged. “Or a manifestation of the same. You can call it what you will. The Sons of Darkness and the Realm of Light have been at war for centuries, both having unique powers. The Realm of Light is headed by Keepers, who have the power of insight, a way of knowing what the demons are doing and how to fight them.”

  “And you’re one of these Keepers,” she said, trying to keep an open mind, especially after what she’d read in her mother’s journal.

  “No, I’m not. I work for Louis, one of the Keepers. Lou directs several demon hunters. I’m one of them.”

  “So you were sent to find out if I’m a demon and to-what? Kill me?”

  He shook his head, his lips lifting in that smile she’d found so devastating earlier. “No. Protect you. You’re not a full demon, Isabelle. I don’t really know what you are. Obviously if what your mother’s diary says is true, you’re half demon, half human.”

  “Doesn’t that still make me dangerous to your people?”

  “Not necessarily. We actually have a couple half demons as hunters. They make great allies because they have an inner sense of how demons think and move.”

  There were others? Like. . her? She shook her head, refusing to believe any of this. “And you think I’m one of them. Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you but I don’t think or act like a demon. I’m human, I feel human, and I act human.”

  Again that smart-assed grin. “That’s what they said at first, too. Sometimes there’s a catalyst for the demon behavior to appear.”

  “Such as?”

  He shrugged. “Different things for different people.”

  “I think you’re totally full of shit, Dalton. You’re playing me, trying to make me doubt myself.” As if she didn’t already have enough doubts and questions knocking around in her brain.

  “What about your mother’s diary?”

  “Nonsensical ramblings. I don’t think she really knows what happened to her that night, or what she saw. I’ve never felt different. I’m not a demon.”

  “Derek and Nic said the same thing at first. You’ve got to be brought into the Realm, Isabelle. For your own safety. If the Sons of Darkness find you-and they are looking for you, trust me-they’ll use you.”

  Now it was her turn to smirk. “Isn’t that exactly what your people are trying to do? Use me?”

  “No. We’re trying to save you.”

  She’d heard enough. Though she wanted to trust in someone, to let Dalton help her, she couldn’t take the chance. She had to do this on her own. “I don’t need saving, but thanks for the offer. Now give me the journal and take me back to the dock.”

  “You don’t believe anything I told you, do you?”

  She scrunched up her nose. “Not really.”

  “I understand self-preservation, Isabelle. I really do. But you’ve got to listen to me.”

  “No, Dalton, I don’t. Now give me back the journal.”

/>   “I’m sorry. I can’t do that. Not right now, anyway. Eventually you’ll get it back. Come with me to meet Lou, the Keeper I work for. He’ll explain better than I can.”

  Right. And no doubt keep her under lock and key like some experimental monkey. The thought of it made her stomach tighten, fear snaking its way into her nerve endings.

  Wasn’t it bad enough what she thought of herself? What would those other people think of her?

  Right now she was free. She intended to keep it that way. “No. I want off this boat. Now. How many ways do I need to say it? Do I need to call the local authorities to board this boat and have you arrested?”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “I can, and I will if you don’t give me another choice.”

  He inhaled, let out a sigh, and moved toward her, the book in his hand. Was he really going to make it this easy? Somehow she knew he wasn’t.

  “I’m sorry. More than I can say,” he said, holding the book out toward her.

  She reached for it, but he grabbed her wrist, hauling her against his chest.

  “You’re stubborn.”

  She tilted her head back, angry at herself for being stupid enough to believe he’d hand over the book and let her go, especially since he’d already stated he wouldn’t.

  “You’re an ass.”

  “Yes, I am. But you’re still coming with me.”

  She struggled, kicking at him, but with bare feet she really could do no damage against his muscular body. And her upper body was pinned, since he’d wrapped an arm tight around her chest.

  He moved to the phone at the side of his bed. He pushed one number, obviously the ship’s captain, because he gave an order and directions to get moving.

  They were headed to Sicily, not back to Malta.

  Which made no difference to her. Once they reached land, she had a chance to get away. And she could get lost more easily in Sicily.

  She stopped struggling, figuring she’d save her energy and bide her time, and soon enough she’d get away from Dalton.

  With her mother’s diary.

  She was smart and resourceful, and while she’d made a critical error in trusting Dalton, it could have happened to anyone. He flashed his money and power-his friendliness and a chance at making a connection with someone-at her when she’d really needed it, and she’d been stupid enough to fall for his lies.

  Remorse hit her straight in the belly as the boat headed away from the dive spot. She’d been so close to finding what she’d been looking for.

  Then again she’d spent her entire life searching for. . something. She’d never been able to figure out what that “something” was.

  Maybe it hadn’t been treasure after all.

  Maybe it had been her identity.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  They were loading up the car when Ryder got a phone call.

  Angelique froze and tried to listen to the voice on the other end. When Ryder hung up, he turned to her.

  “Dalton’s bringing Isabelle. We’ll meet them.”

  “I thought you said it was a bad idea to get us together?”

  “Change of plans.”

  Weird, but she wasn’t going to question it. Not if the end result was seeing her sister. “Okay. Where?”

  “Near Catania. On the northeast side.”

  Angelique zinged with trepidation. “Is Isabelle all right?”

  “She’s fine.”

  They climbed in the car and Ryder headed out. They were a few hours away, and she couldn’t contain her excitement at seeing her sister again. But she wondered why now, and especially when Ryder was so adamant earlier about keeping them apart.

  “Something is wrong. What is it?”

  “Your sister is pissed. And something happened. We figure you can help.”

  “What is she upset about?”

  “Don’t know. Something about your mother’s diary and some secrets your mom wrote in there. Dalton found it and read it. He didn’t go into detail, just said there’s some serious shit in it.”

  “Secrets? Secrets about what?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  Dammit. She didn’t know Mother had kept a diary. And how did Isabelle get hold of it? And more important, why wouldn’t Izzy tell her about it? If there was something upsetting in the diary, why wouldn’t her sister confide in her?

  She needed to talk to Isabelle as soon as possible. And see that diary. She was dying to know what was in it that was so earth-shattering.

  After several hours in the car-an utterly silent drive, since her mind was preoccupied with questions-they arrived at a charming city on the outskirts of Catania. She barely had a moment to bask in the stunning verdant sloping hillsides, crystal blue water, and ancient, Baroque architecture before Ryder careened around a corner and headed up a narrow path, effectively blocking her view of the gorgeous city.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Up.”

  “So not helpful.” Especially since she couldn’t see anything except steep, narrow road and clustered housing.

  She finally had to stop trying to look around because the road really was heading. . up. She was plastered against the back of the seat and could do nothing but lean her head against the neck rest and look to the sky, which seemed to be getting closer with every mile.

  Ryder finally cleared the small road and tightly packed houses and turned left where the road began to curve. They were still going up and at a steep pace. They seemed to be headed toward a magnificent-looking castle ruin.

  “Are we going there?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Damn. Her blood stirred, excitement fueling her veins with a rush of adrenaline. Despite her worry for her sister, the archaeologist in her was chomping at the bit for a chance to explore the castle.

  “Are you sure we can get on the property? We’re not going to be breaking in or anything, are we?”

  “Trust me, we won’t be breaking in.”

  The castle was isolated at the top of a hill, nothing around it but sheer cliffs-a perfect point of protection against ancient enemies. By the time Ryder slowed down and nearly crawled the car through the narrow stone wall entrance, Angelique wanted to leap out and run to the front door. She was dying to get inside. Her love for ancient ruins had taken front and center in her mind.

  “This is breathtaking,” she said as he drove the long curved path-more crushed stones than road, really-that led them to the thick door.

  “Uh-huh.” He put the car in park.

  She turned to look at him. “Oh, come on. Even you have to admit this castle is pretty cool.”

  “It’ll do as a point of protection against anyone trying to get us. But then again, you and I both know demons can get at us from anywhere. So we’ll see.”

  “Ugh. You’re no fun. Where’s your love of history?”

  “I never had a love of history. Ask Mrs. McCann.”

  “Who’s Mrs. McCann?”

  “My high school World History teacher. I got a C minus.”

  “C minus? You suck.”

  He snorted and got out of the car. Angelique did the same, helping him unload. As they did, the front door opened and she whirled around, hoping they wouldn’t find demons standing there.

  Instead, a familiar face greeted her. At least she thought she’d seen him before. Deadly handsome, with short, spiky dirty blond hair and an Australian accent.

  “ ’Bout time you got here, mate.”

  Ryder looked up and quirked a smile. “Hey, Trace. How are you enjoying Italy?”

  Trace wrinkled his nose. “Not enough desert. Too much culture. Too pretty. Needs more dust.”

  Ryder laughed and turned to Angelique. “You remember Trace?”

  She nodded. “Yes. From our time in Australia.”

  “I remember you, too, gorgeous. Still as pretty as ever.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Ryder grumbled, brushing past Trace as they made their way into the hall o
f the castle.

  “Staked your claim already, did you?” Trace asked, lifting the bag from Angelique’s hands.

  “No. Just. . don’t.”

  “Oooh, I think he’s got a thing for you, honey,” Trace said to her with a quick wink.