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After Clelia’s escape, he’d taken leave for the first time since he’d taken command of Cain’s task force. Cain had encouraged the break, no doubt understanding Joss’s feelings for Clelia. After the way he’d behaved, going wilder than a bull with a red flag shoved in his face, his attachment to the witch was undeniable. Joss had asked for three months, saying he wanted to travel for a while, and Cain had granted him five. Four of those precious months had already been wasted. He had little time left.
He understood the irony of not knowing what one had until it was gone only too well. He should’ve just claimed her, the consequences be damned. She belonged to him. She’d always belonged to him, and she’d sealed that deal the night she’d let him inside her body. It was a mistake to let her get away, the worst he’d ever made. He’d set it right if it was the last thing he did. He’d find her, and when he did, he’d never let her go.
Night after night, he lay awake, replaying their reunion over in his mind. The knowledge that she’d witnessed his weakest moment when he’d lost himself at the bottom of a bottle shamed him. Not once had she used it against him. How easy it would’ve been to betray him by confessing to Cain he was nothing but a weakling who seduced innocent girls. She could’ve claimed harassment. If she was anything less than an angel, she would’ve used it to bargain for her freedom, but she kept it to herself while he betrayed her in every imaginable way. He betrayed a love that had started young and spanned many years by taking her hostage, by submitting her to his ghosts, by trading his hauntings for her peace, and by rejecting the redemption she’d offered, but she’d betrayed him too.
Just before Clelia had jumped overboard, they’d witnessed her art. Either it had regressed so far it didn’t come through in her blood or she was a cunning little magician and liar. A coldness had invaded his soul when he’d realized how much danger she was in. That chill had never left. It lived in his heart. She was the prey Lupien was after. Finding Erwan was no longer important. Finding Clelia before Lupien did was the only thing that mattered. He didn’t share his belief that Clelia was alive with anyone. He had a damn good reason for keeping it to himself.
Lupien wouldn’t stop until he had Clelia in his claws. This much Joss had learned from the little information he could dig up on Lupien. Lupien and Cain were similar in one aspect. They were both determined and unstoppable. If Cain discovered Clelia was alive, she’d be hunted by two of the most powerful men in the universe, one wanting to kill her for the good of mankind and the other for evil.
Whoever would get to her first, she was doomed. There was only one way to save her. He had to kill Lupien and claim her to protect her from Cain. In order to steal her art, Lupien would have to turn her heart dark by spoiling her goodness and extinguishing her light. She was inexperienced, a virgin firestarter, and fertile ground for evil predators like Lupien. If Lupien succeeded, not only would he be the most powerful force on the face of the earth, but Clelia would be lost forever.
He tossed and turned, considering his self-assigned mission. Find her. Save her. Make her his. For the first time in his life, his destiny was clear. Clelia was as much a part of him as his quest. The one couldn’t be separated from the other. Clelia was his quest. His quest was Clelia. She was the answer to everything, to both his happiness and Cain’s life mission. Find her, and they could save the world from Lupien. Lose her, and all was lost. That was how strong he felt the bond that connected him to his witch.
The bond allowed him to feel what Maya couldn’t see. Clelia had gotten away. They’d combed the bottom of the ocean and hadn’t left a rock on land unturned. For weeks, Joss had roamed the woods, watched her house and even his at the slight chance she’d hide out there. Finally, he’d set her dogs loose in the hope they’d pick up on a scent. When that had failed, he had to admit she wasn’t in town.
For a month, they’d hunted Lupien. They’d tracked him all the way to Spain where they’d lost his trail. Joss would’ve felt a hell of a lot better if he could’ve killed the bastard before continuing his search for Clelia. At least his girl would’ve had one devil less chasing her. He’d had nothing else to go on. Then, one day, as he’d sat at the harbor watching the fishing trawlers come in, his heart had started beating faster. One trawler had passed in the week Clelia had jumped overboard. Its destination was Cape Town. He’d applied for leave. None of the team had been suspicious when he’d set off for South Africa. They’d expected him to run someplace where he could lick his wounds. Any fool could see how losing their hostage affected him.
