tried. It wasn’t working. Not with the
memory of the horror-movie mutant attack in the alley. And as much as she hated
to admit it, Enath had frightened her to the core, and Wyc had made her feel
safe. Well, as safe as one can feel wedged between garbage and surrounded by
testosterone-enhanced insanity.
“So how did you find me? How did he find me? And what the
hell am I doing in the middle of Iowa if I have psychotic killers after me, and
why hasn’t anyone bothered to let me know this before now?” She was shrieking
by the time she stopped to take a breath.
Wyc cupped the side of her face with his hand, stroking her
cheek with his thumb. “There was an attack and your mother panicked. She took
you and your sisters and ran. Before we could find her, she died and her
daughters disappeared into the foster care program. We’ve been searching for
you for years.”
“Sisters?”
“Three of them. You’re the second youngest. Your mother
disappeared three weeks after your first birthday. That’s why you don’t
remember.”
Shadows of memories that had roamed free through her dreams
and haunted her days shifted and slithered in the back of her mind, glimpses of
faces and voices. Elusive and alluring, but not solid enough to ground his
explanation in a certainty she was willing to accept without further proof.
Still, she had always wanted to be a part of a real family.
Not just a temporary add-on. It was a normal desire, and if he had been looking
for her, he probably knew she had been bounced around and could be using that
to draw her into his deception. Refusing to take the tenderness and concern she
saw in his expression at face value, she narrowed her eyes.
“How do I know you’re not the bad guy in this whole crazy
story you’re trying to sell me?”
He let out a loud, gusted breath that blew her bangs off her
forehead. “You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. Mystics are supposed
to be known for their excellent intuition.”
“Well, pardon me. But I just found out I’m a sex-cursed
Mystic, have sisters I’ve never heard about, and have maniacs out to breed or
kill me. If my intuition seems a little slow on the uptake, that’s too damn
bad. Personally, I’m feeling the need to start this day over and forget
everything that’s happened.”
His smile, slow and sexy, combined with the gleam in his
eyes, made her stomach dip in a flying-over-the-edge-of-a-cliff way.
“Everything?” he asked, rocking suggestively against her.
She tried to ignore the amazing way his body felt rubbing
over hers and her own body’s rioting response. “If I’m in so much danger here,
why aren’t we running like hell instead of lying here naked?”
“We will be leaving. Soon. And don’t worry, Enath will be
out of commission for at least twenty-four hours. Predators are a very
competitive sect and always work alone. They refuse to share information among
their ranks, afraid that someone else will beat them out of a retrieval.”
“Why?”
“The only thing that gives a Predator value in the eyes of
their people is the ability to retrieve Mystics. Without that, they’re worth
less than spit.
“You’re being hunted, Bethany.” He paused and combed his
fingers through her hair. An oddly comforting action incompatible with his
words.
“Now that you’ve been discovered alive, Enath won’t stop
until he’s found you, or he’s dead. And when he’s dead, there are others like
him who will come for you. That’s why we’re not staying here. I’m taking you
back to my home where you’ll be safe.”
Ilyrians, Sleht, Predators, Mystics. The terms and pieces of
the story swarmed through her head until it all buzzed together and made her
dizzy.
“Is there any possibility you’ve got the wrong person?”
“No.”
Bethany scrunched her eyes shut and pressed her head back
into the mattress. Her life had never been much to speak of in the first place.
There were more ragged edges and frayed
memory of the horror-movie mutant attack in the alley. And as much as she hated
to admit it, Enath had frightened her to the core, and Wyc had made her feel
safe. Well, as safe as one can feel wedged between garbage and surrounded by
testosterone-enhanced insanity.
“So how did you find me? How did he find me? And what the
hell am I doing in the middle of Iowa if I have psychotic killers after me, and
why hasn’t anyone bothered to let me know this before now?” She was shrieking
by the time she stopped to take a breath.
Wyc cupped the side of her face with his hand, stroking her
cheek with his thumb. “There was an attack and your mother panicked. She took
you and your sisters and ran. Before we could find her, she died and her
daughters disappeared into the foster care program. We’ve been searching for
you for years.”
“Sisters?”
“Three of them. You’re the second youngest. Your mother
disappeared three weeks after your first birthday. That’s why you don’t
remember.”
Shadows of memories that had roamed free through her dreams
and haunted her days shifted and slithered in the back of her mind, glimpses of
faces and voices. Elusive and alluring, but not solid enough to ground his
explanation in a certainty she was willing to accept without further proof.
Still, she had always wanted to be a part of a real family.
Not just a temporary add-on. It was a normal desire, and if he had been looking
for her, he probably knew she had been bounced around and could be using that
to draw her into his deception. Refusing to take the tenderness and concern she
saw in his expression at face value, she narrowed her eyes.
“How do I know you’re not the bad guy in this whole crazy
story you’re trying to sell me?”
He let out a loud, gusted breath that blew her bangs off her
forehead. “You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. Mystics are supposed
to be known for their excellent intuition.”
“Well, pardon me. But I just found out I’m a sex-cursed
Mystic, have sisters I’ve never heard about, and have maniacs out to breed or
kill me. If my intuition seems a little slow on the uptake, that’s too damn
bad. Personally, I’m feeling the need to start this day over and forget
everything that’s happened.”
His smile, slow and sexy, combined with the gleam in his
eyes, made her stomach dip in a flying-over-the-edge-of-a-cliff way.
“Everything?” he asked, rocking suggestively against her.
She tried to ignore the amazing way his body felt rubbing
over hers and her own body’s rioting response. “If I’m in so much danger here,
why aren’t we running like hell instead of lying here naked?”
“We will be leaving. Soon. And don’t worry, Enath will be
out of commission for at least twenty-four hours. Predators are a very
competitive sect and always work alone. They refuse to share information among
their ranks, afraid that someone else will beat them out of a retrieval.”
“Why?”
“The only thing that gives a Predator value in the eyes of
their people is the ability to retrieve Mystics. Without that, they’re worth
less than spit.
“You’re being hunted, Bethany.” He paused and combed his
fingers through her hair. An oddly comforting action incompatible with his
words.
“Now that you’ve been discovered alive, Enath won’t stop
until he’s found you, or he’s dead. And when he’s dead, there are others like
him who will come for you. That’s why we’re not staying here. I’m taking you
back to my home where you’ll be safe.”
Ilyrians, Sleht, Predators, Mystics. The terms and pieces of
the story swarmed through her head until it all buzzed together and made her
dizzy.
“Is there any possibility you’ve got the wrong person?”
“No.”
Bethany scrunched her eyes shut and pressed her head back
into the mattress. Her life had never been much to speak of in the first place.
There were more ragged edges and frayed
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