Mystical Seduction: full-length sensual paranormal romance (The Protectors) (12 page)

Horace rubbed his suddenly throbbing temples.

That repressed part of his past had turned into one hell of
a Pandora’s Box. One he did not want opened.

Perhaps there could be another way.

He unbuttoned his cotton shirt and pulled it off, revealing
the still stinging tattoo. “It showed up this morning. The mark looks familiar,
but I don’t know why.”

Faith lightly traced her fingers over the raw tattoo. His
skin tingled and sang in response to her touch. The black lines turned golden
and glowed for a flickering moment.

Stone shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like that
before.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Horace shrugged back into his
shirt and turned toward Brendan. “Do it.”

He had no choice. He’d have to let Brendan peel open his
mind.

Brendan asked Faith to step away from the table. He then moved
his chair so that it faced Horace’s. They sat so close, Horace’s knees banged
up against Brendan’s.

Though Brendan didn’t have to touch someone in order to read
minds, touching did help if he wanted to probe deeply.

“Be careful,” Dallas warned, which only made Horace more
wary.

“Take a deep breath,” Brendan said. “I’ll try to make this
as quick as possible.” He touched the tips of his fingers to the sides of
Horace’s face.

Horace felt Brendan tiptoe into his thoughts. It didn’t
hurt, though it did feel a little crowded inside his mind. Brendan chuckled as
he pushed past the memories of last night and this afternoon.

“Ahhh, nice,” Brendan said, and slid a glance in Faith’s
direction. Heat darkened his eyes. Lust.

She’s mine.
Horace didn’t want to share Faith, not
even in the context of his memories. He tried to push Brendan away from those
particular memories. But Brendan’s fingers only pressed more firmly against
Horace’s temples.

No, damn you, she’s mine
.

“She’s mine,” Brendan echoed.

“Their minds are linking.” Horace vaguely heard Dallas say.
She put her hand on Brendan’s shoulder. Her touch seemed to help Brendan’s
focus.

Brendan brushed away Horace’s hunger for Faith, and skimmed
past Horace’s rotten childhood, past the endless string of days living hungry
and homeless. The lonely days. The frightened child shivering and cold. And
then Brendan dug deeper, going to a place buried so deep that it lay hidden far
beyond Horace’s faintest recollections of infancy.

“I’m close,” Brendan said. “The protections in this area are
incredible. Tougher than what Dallas had built around herself to guard against
the
darkness
.”

But don’t worry
—Brendan’s thoughts now blended with
Horace’s—
I think I see an opening
.

Horace felt Brendan push deeper. And then a blinding pain
sliced through him, searing him as sharply as if an electrical storm sparked
inside his mind.

Flashes—burning pain—jolting shocks.

Electric barbs stabbed at his every thought. Horace couldn’t
control or make sense of anything coming at him. The pain overwhelmed. Every
memory threatened to tear him to pieces.

He needed to tell Brendan to stop, but his mouth refused to
work. All of his muscles had seized up.

His memories were killing him, and Horace could do nothing
to stop them.

“You’re killing him!” Faith screamed. Why couldn’t they see
that? Faith could feel Horace slipping away, and she didn’t have any of the
special powers the others supposedly possessed.

“Stop!” she shouted at them.

She threw herself onto Brendan’s back and fought him with
all her strength, trying to break the connection between Horace and Brendan.
But he wouldn’t budge. She pounded his shoulders until several of
the
Protectors
grabbed her arms.

“Stop! You’re hurting him!” She fought with all her strength
as they pulled her away. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Stop it!”

Pain ripped through her head and seared a path down her
body.

“Please,” she whimpered as she collapsed to the floor.
“Please, don’t do this to him.”

“We’d better listen to her,” Dallas said. “Horace?”

He didn’t answer. How could he? They were killing him. Why
couldn’t they feel that? His pain filled the air like sharp barbs. Faith
couldn’t believe no one else felt the pure agony that prickled her insides with
every breath.

“Brendan?” Dallas sounded worried now. “Brendan? I need you
to pull back.”

“I agree,” Stone said.

It took both Dallas and Stone to pry Brendan’s fingertips
from Horace’s temples. As soon as they broke the contact, Horace sucked in a
deep breath of air. Brendan crumpled to the floor.

Dallas caressed Brendan’s ashen face and murmured softly in
her husband’s ear. Faith struggled against the arms holding her. She wanted to
get to Horace. To touch him. To caress him. To comfort him in much the same
way.

“What happened?” Stone asked. He crouched down beside
Horace’s chair.

Horace swallowed hard several times and shook his head.

“He’s in pain.” Faith could still feel the sharp throbbing
behind her eyes. Somehow, she knew she’d experienced only a taste of what
Horace had suffered. She wanted to get to Horace, but his friends refused to
release her. “Can’t you do your magic and help him?”

Jake jumped to action. He handed Horace a steaming cup of
what looked like tea. After watching Horace take several sips, Jake turned to
Faith. A second cup appeared in his hand. “It looks like you could use some,
too.”

The men holding her released her arms, and she rushed over
to Horace. Jake followed and pressed the cup of tea into her hands. The lemony
tea tickled her taste buds and, after swallowing, spread a soothing balm
throughout her body. The pain throbbing behind her eyes slipped away.

“I know where I’ll be coming next allergy season,” she told
Jake, who had watched her drink the tea with apt curiosity. She took another
sip. “This is good.”

“I aim to please.” He smiled, but the expression looked
forced. Everyone looked tense.

“What happened?” Stone asked Horace again.

And again, Horace appeared unable to answer.

“Those memories are in what felt like a no-man’s land, a war
zone, littered with explosives waiting to blow Horace apart,” Brendan said. The
color had returned to his cheeks and with Dallas’s help, he got his feet
underneath him as he rose from the floor. “Dammit Horace, did you build those
barriers yourself? Or did someone do that to you?”

Horace shook his head.

“He doesn’t know. It’s like what you did to me, Stone,” Faith
said. She didn’t understand it, but glimmering bits and pieces of knowledge had
dropped into her head when Brendan and Horace had been pulled apart. “When he
tries to remember, he hits the barriers that had been set up to stop him from
remembering. It’s those barriers that make his head ache. Push too hard, and
he’ll end up permanently brain damaged. Perhaps even dead.”

“And what suddenly makes you an expert on how these things
work?” Kara demanded. She’d attached herself to Horace, rubbing his head and
running her fingers through his hair. He didn’t appear to mind.

“Faith is right,” Brendan said. “We can’t force him to
remember. I saw those barriers firsthand. It’s too dangerous to try and breech
them.”

“Very well,” Stone said. “Did you learn anything in the
short time you were in Horace’s thoughts?”

Brendan slid Faith a long look. He started to say something
but then stopped himself. “He’ll have to figure that one out on his own,” he
murmured.

“The marks you gave Faith,” Brendan then added, “they have
connected Faith to you.”

“Marks!” Kara said with a laugh. “How primal, Horace.”

Horace shot Faith an accusing glare. “Connected?” A deep,
dangerous edge rumbled in his voice.

“I’m afraid so,” Brendan said. “It appears you’ve bound
Faith to your soul. I bet that’s why the two of you are sharing an aura. You’ve
made her into your servant.”

“
His servant
?” Faith didn’t like how that sounded.
No, that couldn’t be right. Partner perhaps, but not servant.

No one else in the café seemed concerned that her
independence might have been stripped away.
Servant
? Not her.

“How did you know how to do that?” Stone asked.

Horace only shook his head.

Kara draped her arms over Horace’s shoulders, letting her
fingers trail down his chest. He didn’t stop her.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself a pretty pet,” she said,
loud enough for Faith to hear as well.

Horace’s gaze met Faith’s again.

“A pretty pet,” he said. His voice caressed Faith’s breasts,
and her body turned weak. What she wouldn’t do to have him caress her all over
with his raspy tongue. Perhaps she should go find another chocolate croissant.
She could drizzle…

“No,” Faith whispered, backing away from him. Backing away
from all of them. “No, this can’t be happening.”

Horace pushed Kara away and fought his way to his feet. He
came toward Faith. She held up her hands, hoping to keep him away.

“I want to leave.” They were playing with her mind. And it
had to stop. No one was going to turn her into a sex slave against her will.

She had too many opinions, too strong and stubborn of a will
to let something like that happen.

“You told me I could leave if I wanted.” Panic welled in
Faith’s chest as Horace closed in on her. “And I want to go. Now. You told me I
could leave.”

“I told you I would come with you,” Horace corrected.

“What if I need to be alone for a while?”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“And it’s not dangerous for me here?” she asked with a
nervous laugh.

“I’ll protect you.”

“And who will protect me from you?” Faith demanded. “No
thank you. I’d rather take my chances on my own.” She dashed toward the door.
No one made a move to stop her.

“
Come here
.” His command vibrated through her body.

Though she didn’t want to be anywhere near him, she turned.
Her feet—quite against her will—obeyed him.

“I don’t want this either.” He sounded weary.

“Then let me go, Horace. Don’t force me to stay here. I’m
not your servant. Don’t press your will on me like this.”

“I’ll do whatever I need to do to keep you safe,”he tossed
back at her.

“So that’s it?” She couldn’t seem to keep her voice steady.
“Whether I like it or not, I’m your sex slave now? You whisper my name, and I’m
quivering with desire for you?”

“Faith…” Pain tightened his eyes, but that could be just an
after effect from his blinding headache.

Horace reached for her hand, but Faith managed to sidestep
him. She didn’t want him to touch her.

“Dammit, Faith, do you think I wanted this?”

“I don’t know.” She didn’t know anything anymore. “It seems
like a pretty good deal for you.”

His expression tightened even more. “It’s not that simple. I
can’t just pretend that you and I—” Horace rubbed his temples again. “I don’t
know.”

Faith felt a pang of compassion for him. Was that her own
emotion, or just an echo of what he wanted her to feel for him? She couldn’t
tell.

“Go to hell,” she ground out. “Go to hell, and stay the fuck
away from me!”

“Faith…” He tried to touch her again but she wanted none of
that. “Ballou—whatever the hell he is—isn’t going to give up. You need to stay here
where you are safe.”

She laughed at that. Where she was safe? Where she was safe
as a sex slave?

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she laughed again. Great.
Great. Now, she’d become hysterical. He brought out all her best traits.

Horace started to say something else. Faith covered her ears
and backed toward the door.

“Don’t you dare use your powers against me,” she warned, and
then flashed a glare in Stone’s direction. “You either!”

She’d been patient and reasonable long enough. Didn’t they
realize how frightening this might be to her? They were talking about taking
over her life. Oh no, not her life. She had plans. And none of them included
becoming a sex slave.

True, Horace had a sexy body. And he seemed to be kind to
his employees. True, she’d wanted a relationship with him. When he looked at
her, he made her mind go numb with desire, but that would never be a good
enough reason to let him turn her into a mindless slave.

She backed toward the café door just steps behind her. But
before reaching the glass door, she hit a solid wall, a wall dressed in jeans
and a lightweight polo shirt.

Faith glanced up and met Brendan’s determined gaze. He
didn’t have a smile for her this time.

When she tried to skirt around him, he wrapped his arms
around her chest, trapping her. She fought like a wildcat to break free. But
his strength won out. His arms tightened like bands of steel around her.

While she kicked and screamed, Brendan picked her up and
carried her back toward Horace, who started to shake his head in distress.

“Don’t hurt her,” Horace said.

How kind of the bastard to think of her. Anger burned so hot
in her chest, Faith feared she might explode.

All of the sudden sparks leaped from her skin like a Roman
candle blowing apart. The impact knocked Brendan to the ground.

Good
.

Now that she’d broken free, she had only one thought in her
mind—she needed to get away. She jumped over Brendan prone body and blasted
through the glass door, shattering it. Oddly enough, the broken shards didn’t
cut her as she jumped through the opening to get out to the street.

And as easily as that, she was free. Kicking off her
uncomfortable sandals, she ran and ran and ran until she couldn’t run any
farther, the bottoms of her feet worn raw by the rough sidewalk. She didn’t
care. She didn’t care about the pain or where she was going, as long as it was
far away from The Oblique Café and its gathering of mind-controlling weirdoes.