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Unbelievable.
His arrogance left her mouth agape, but he was already walking away from her before she could answer.
“You’re one hell of a prick,” she yelled at him, willing him to stop, and she swore loudly as he kept walking. Her face tightened, and her eyes narrowed into dark slits of anger. “Hey dickhead, I’m talking to you! Give me one good reason why I should help you?”
He stopped abruptly, and she nearly ran into his back. His body was hot. She felt the heat scorch the air.
He turned around, and she retreated a step, her chest heaving as she struggled to calm herself. His muscled frame was draped in casual cotton, the light-colored fabric a foil against his tanned skin. The open collar drew her gaze to the pulse that beat strong and steady at his throat, and she swallowed thickly, her mouth suddenly dry.
His long legs were encased in faded jeans, the kind that hung low; so low, in fact, that she could see the taut skin of his belly as he lifted his arm and ruffled the hair at his neck. Even though Mexico was hot as sin, his feet were encased in the same pair of boots he’d worn the night before. The man was seriously hot. Too bad he was such an asshole.
“You done?”
Her eyes jerked back up to his. “Done?”
“Checking me out. I thought you saw enough last night, but hell, if we have time—”
“Fuck you, Castille.”
“Seems to me you already did,” he whispered softly, the tone of his voice dangerous like dark chocolate.
Her arm flew out as the anger inside her erupted. She felt the power of her jaguar gather and aimed her fist for his nose. But he grabbed her just above the wrist before she made contact and twisted until a whimper eventually fell from her lips.
Small spurts of air escaped from between her lips as her chest heaved. She tried to pull away, but he refused to let her go.
“I don’t have time for games. If the portal is not found . . . if Cormac is not stopped, all hell will break loose in the human realm, and, trust me, if that happens, I will be the least of your worries. There will be such madness, chaos, and pain . . .” His voice trailed off, and Jaden’s gut twisted as fear began to grow.
Deep within the recesses of his eyes, something flickered, something haunted. She swallowed heavily, and whispered, “Let me go.”
He held her for several long moments, his eyes never leaving hers, then gently withdrew his hand.
She stood there, rubbing her throbbing wrist as her mind whirled into a thousand directions. Julian Castille had not been vacationing in Club Med for the last six months. He’d been someplace dark, twisted. He knew what was coming.
But could she work with him?
A loud crash echoed into the silence, and she jumped.
“What the—?” Jaden pushed past Julian and was down the hall in seconds, her mind and body on red alert.
She reached the main room and froze, her eyes staring at the scene in disbelief. Anger, hot and instant, burned her, and she shook her head as her jaguar protested loudly.
“Mot
herfu—”
“Shit, that’s not very ladylike.”
Her words were cut off, and she glared at Declan O’Hara as he stood surrounded by the smashed remnants of a large piece of pottery. The air shimmered around him, a barrier of magick, and Nico circled him warily, growls and hisses falling from him.
The warrior had shed his human skin and flicked his long tail in agitation as he continued to circle the sorcerer.
“You wanna call off your kitty?” Declan flashed a smile, yet his eyes, too, were as hard as Julian’s, full of darkness and secrets. “I’d hate to have to singe his fur, but if need be, I’ll fry his ass.”
Jaden ignored the sorcerer and walked toward them, her hand reaching for the large jaguar. “Nico, be still.”
The cat barked twice and hissed, but moved between her and Declan as she knelt amongst the mess. She stared down at the ruined pottery for several long seconds. Her breath fell in ragged swells as she fought to control her emotion. The ceremonial jug had been a gift from her mother, Sophia, an ancient treasure from a long ago time, and the only link she had to her mother’s family.
It was worth a small fortune, but to Jaden, that paled in comparison to what it had meant to her mother. What it meant to her.
