Jaci Burton - Taken by Sin

“He’s a strong demon, Isabelle. He’s hard to fight.”

“And I’m not powerful enough.”

“Between the two of us, we are.”

“How can you say that? Look what he just did to me, what he made me do, how easily I fell under his spell. And he’s not even here. What happens when he finds us, Dalton? It’ll be just like Sicily all over again. He’ll make me his.” She stood and turned away, paced, her mind awash in things she didn’t want to think about, but could no longer deny.

Dalton came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “I won’t let that happen.”

She pulled away and turned to him. “Oh, really. And how are you going to stop him? Tase is a demon, Dalton. So am I. You’re only a human.” She paused and stared at him.

“Or-are you human? Does a human recover from an injury like what you suffered today?” She reached out, traced her fingers along his stomach, where there was barely a visible scar now. “Even as we’ve been talking you’ve healed further. In another hour you won’t even be able to see that wound.” He didn’t respond.

“Dalton. No one heals like that. I thought you were going to die.”

He tilted his head and gave her a disbelieving look. “I think maybe you panicked. It wasn’t that bad.”

If there was one thing she hated, it was being patronized. “You had a huge hole in your middle. I could see inside it. You should have been unconscious. You needed major surgery.”

“But as you can see, I’m fine.”

“Yes, I see. It isn’t right.”

He smiled. “You don’t want me to be fine?”

She pushed at him, fury and frustration making her entire body vibrate. “Goddammit! There’s something not right about this and you know what I’m talking about. You almost died out there, Dalton! I saw it, you know what happened. My heart nearly stopped when I saw how deep that wound was. I’m not delusional. So don’t blow smoke up my ass and tell me I didn’t see what I did. I know what I saw then and what I see now. Nobody heals this fast. Nobody. Now explain it to me and quit treating me like I’m some simpleminded idiot that you can divert with pretty clouds and ridiculous explanations.”

He looked at her, silent for a few moments before saying, “I can’t.”

She rested her hip against the counter and crossed her arms. “Bullshit. You mean you don’t want to.”

At least he had the good sense not to answer her. She was right.

“How the hell can you heal so fast, Dalton? And don’t tell me it was Georgie’s magic. She already said it wasn’t her.”

Dalton sat down and leaned back in the chair and tapped his fingers against the tabletop. Now he wouldn’t look at her.

“Trying to come up with a plausible explanation?”

He continued to look away from her.

“You won’t tell me, will you?”

He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Isabelle, I can’t. This is complicated.”

“All this bullshit about you wanting me to trust you. But you can’t trust me with your secrets. And it must be some powerful secret for you to be able to recover like that.” She pivoted and walked out of the room.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“You can’t go out there by yourself.”

“Watch me.”

“I’ll go with you.”

She was out the door, slamming it behind her before he could finish the sentence. And then she ran, needing distance between them.

She didn’t go up to the main house; instead, she deviated halfway and headed toward the dock. Dusk cast a gray cloak over the orange ball as it sank into the water. She sat on the old dock, feeling it sway under her body as she found a spot and watched the water undulate the boats anchored there.

Thankfully, he didn’t follow.

But it was quiet here and she had time to clear her head and think about Dalton and what had happened. She felt safe here, no warning signals blaring in her head that she was in any kind of danger. And thankfully, no voices.

It was dark. Fireflies danced around her, over the water, flitting in and around the trees on the other side of the lake. Carefree, they twirled around and up into the sky, then zoomed back toward land again, their yellow blinkers lighting the way like a beacon in the night.

She could use a beacon because she felt like she was fumbling in the dark, when instead she wanted clarity, to be able to fly around without a care or a thought other than the breeze blowing through her hair.

Sadly, unlike the fireflies, she was grounded, her mind muddled with thoughts of Dalton. She was beginning to wonder exactly what kind of man he was. First that strange glow surrounding him when they made love, and now the almost Superman healing ability. Who was her supposed savior, anyway?

She’d followed him blindly because he’d saved her life in Sicily. But what did she really know about him? And what were his motives in sparing her? What was in it for him?

And what was happening to her? Tase seemed to be gaining a foothold in her mind more and more. She wanted to be strong, yet she felt like she was weakening. She didn’t want to be weak. She didn’t want to give in and become one of the demons again. She’d rather die.

She felt more isolated than ever, and no one here would give her answers. She massaged her temples, wishing she could talk to Angelique. She missed her sister. Angie would know what to say to make her feel better. She’d help her reason this out, and maybe come up with some logical explanations for what was going on here.

Then again, nothing had been logical in her life since she found out she was part demon. Why should this situation be any different? She already felt like an alien in this foreign body. Why not add a glowing, self-healing lover to the mix?

She sighed and stared across the water, realizing the fireflies weren’t going to give her any answers. She was tired. But she couldn’t face Dalton.

He didn’t trust her. And now, after all this time, she no longer trusted him, either. He had a secret. A big one. And he refused to tell her what it was.

So where did that leave them? Where did that leave her?

Alone, as usual. Right back where she’d started.

Kill him.

She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to acknowledge that voice. She was stronger than the specter trying to invade her mind.

You shouldn’t trust him. You have to kill him before he kills you.

How long before Tase succeeded in making her do just that? She’d almost killed Dalton today. Maybe next time Dalton wouldn’t be so lucky.

She might not trust him, but she cared about him, would never want to hurt him. He’d saved her life in Italy, and maybe she didn’t know why, but she owed him for that.

She had to get away from here, away from Dalton, where she couldn’t hurt him or anyone else.

She stood and headed down the walkway, careful to keep her gaze on the house. Dalton hadn’t come out, but he might any minute. Once she moved past the house she ran like hell, figuring it was only a matter of time before he’d come looking for her and not be able to find her.

He’d come after her. She didn’t want to be found. It wasn’t safe for Dalton with her there. Not after what she’d done today. Things were out of her control, more so now than ever before. The demon in her was coming out, growing stronger, and it was dangerous.

She headed toward the swamp and the thick trees, hoping they would swallow her up. She pushed hard, running until her chest ached from the effort, until she was forced to slow, lean forward, and rest her hands above her knees to catch her breath.

She had no idea where she was, and didn’t care. It was so dark outside she felt enveloped by it, yet found it strangely comforting; she was no longer frightened or appalled by the smells and sounds of the swamp. Maybe the demon side of her was growing, coming out, and that’s why she didn’t mind being here in the murky woods.