So Tempting (19 page)

He merely gestured for her to proceed.

"Did you kill my brother?"

"No." No hesitation. "I am sorry for your loss." He took a step forward. "Let me hold you."

She backed up, one palm out in warning. It was her curse that she could imagine letting him do it, damn him.

Damn her.

"He had joined some kind of cult, something about a
Magos
." She saw him tense. "What does that mean,
Magos
?"

"It is Greek. It means...mage."

"Like a magician?" She snorted. "As in some Las Vegas illusion?"

"No." A frown. "It is more. In the old days, a
magos
was a sorcerer. A wise man and powerful healer."

Sorcerer. Christ. Just what she'd thought, the first time she'd seen him. "My brother's the one who told me that your sister was in danger from someone named the Keeper." Her gaze narrowed. "He mentioned a Priestess." She glanced at the black feathered mask, then back to him. "What do you know about them?"

She saw his struggle, and her heart sank.

He was hiding something.

He walked to the window, looked out. "Only what I told you about the mask."

In seconds, she was at his side. "You're lying to me, Dante. You've done it over and over." A bitter laugh erupted. "It's sick. I find myself looking for reasons why you can't be as involved as I know you must be. Reasons to—" Her voice cracked. "To trust you. It makes no sense."

In a tortured whisper, she pressed on. "I have these...dreams of you. Why?"

He hesitated. "Will you listen to me now?"

"Go ahead."

"It is not easy to explain. You must open your heart."

Open yourself to me...surrender.
She clenched her jaw. "Go on."

He frowned. "The world is more than you see. Evil exists, and it stirs now, searching for an opening into this plane. I am one who can stop it." He paused. "With your help."

"Mine?"

"When we touch, you feel it, you see another dimension."

What? Her brother was dead, and he was talking woo-woo crap? "Oh, please."

"It is real, Justine, and your skepticism impedes your ability to be my Prism."

"Prism?" she echoed. "Don't spout metaphysical bullshit to me when my brother is dead. Give me facts, damn it."

"Justine..." He reached for her.

"No!" She recoiled. "Don't touch me." She didn't trust anything she felt. "Don't touch me." She held out the amulet. "Did you place this on my pillow with a warning?"

He was visibly startled. "On your pillow?" His gaze narrowed. "When?"

"Last night. What about the note that said to leave the
Magos
alone?" She studied him carefully. "Who's the
Magos
, Dante?"

"I would like to help you, Justine..." The unfinished sentence hung in the air.

"But you won't." She shouldn't be surprised. "I could make you talk to me, you know. Arrest you right now."

"On what grounds? Why did you come here alone if you believe I'm a suspect?" He crossed the room, stopping in front of her. "Listen to your heart. It is telling you to trust me."

Memories—or dreams—whirled through her head. Eyes soft with emotion. A tender touch. Starburst...a song...

Agony clawed. "Why should I?" she whispered. "I can't even trust myself." Her head hurt. Her heart hurt. "You won't help me. Won't help yourself. Why, Dante?"

They stood there, suspended in one held breath...one moment on which she knew everything depended. What he said next would make or break all.

She saw the battle rage within him and dared to hope.

Then he spoke. "I am sorry, but until you open your mind, there is nothing I can tell you."

Hope sank like a stone. "Not can't. Won't." She made to leave, then paused. "I'll keep digging until I figure it out, you know that."

"Don't, Justine. Please—"

"Please, what? Talk to me, damn you."

"Stay out of it. Go bury your brother and try to forget."

Harsh laughter clawed its way up her throat. "Even if I weren't a cop, I couldn't do that. To the end of my life, I'll know that his death was my fault."

"It wasn't."

She peered sideways at him, assessing her chances of finding out more. Then she shook her head. "When you're ready to explain that remark, I'll be around." With weary steps, she headed to the door.

His voice followed her, the barest hint of an ache within it. "Justine."

She halted but didn't turn around.

"Please. For your own sake, stay away. You are not safe."

She could barely get the words out. "I haven't been safe since the first time I saw you."

With no other choice, with a brother to bury and an investigation to resume, she left.

Chapter Fifteen

Cassie stirred from the narrow bed where she'd fallen into an uneasy slumber, Antonia's warnings whispering in her ears. Maybe Antonia was right that she had to lay low for a couple of days; Dante would probably turn Santa Fe upside down, looking for her.

But still...Cassie rubbed her arms, chilled. This place was like a cell. Bare of any decorations, a lumpy mattress on the narrow cot, no windows at all. They'd driven around for hours, Antonia preoccupied and snappish. Finally, when darkness had fallen, she'd been brought here, somewhere in the mountains—Cassie had no idea where.

She sat up, her stomach growling. She needed to pee, and she wanted something to eat. A brush for her hair, a toothbrush...all the things she could have brought if Antonia hadn't insisted on leaving that very minute.

Something about the way Antonia looked her over, as if she were a bug on a microscope slide...Cassie shook her head, rubbing her arms again.

Don't be silly. Antonia's helping you out.

But where was she? What was this place?

Cassie wanted to call Markos. Antonia had said he wasn't available last night, but surely today she could talk to him.

Rising from the cot, Cassie had almost reached the door when it swung open. Her worry turned to relief.

"Markos!" She threw herself into his embrace.

He closed his arms around her and stroked her hair. "Hello, my friend. I hear you've flown the coop."

Face snuggled into his chest, Cassie drank in his warmth and felt her fears flee.

Until he pressed her against him, and she felt his body stir.

Cassie's gaze flew to his face. His dark brown eyes burned with a glow that made her nerves skitter. Quickly he shuttered his expression.

Cassie stepped away, suddenly afraid.

"I'm here to help you, sweet Cassie."

When she didn't answer, he snared her hand. Cassie fought the urge to yank it away.

"There, there, little one," he soothed. "You've taken a bold step, striking out on your own. I'm proud of you."

"Where am I?" His fingers stroking her palm made her edgy.

"Someplace safe, where he won't find you."

"I want to leave."

One bushy dark eyebrow lifted. "And go where?"

"Anywhere. I don't like it here."

His voice turned soothing. "Antonia has not been good to you?"

"She—"

"I've done nothing to harm your little pet, Markos." Antonia strolled into the room, black hair cascading almost to her waist, ruby red lips pursed, dark eyes glinting danger as she took in the sight of their joined hands. "She's in excellent care."

Cassie attempted to slip away; Markos held her fast.

He studied her. "She's had to sleep in her clothing, and I suspect she'd like to bathe. When was the last time you ate, Cassie?"

Cassie saw the warning in Antonia's eyes; she wondered what was going on in this struggle she sensed between them.

Screw Antonia. "I'm starving and yes, I'd like to shower and change my clothes."

Lifting her fingers to his lips, Markos pressed a kiss to them. "Then that's what she shall have, isn't that right, my dear?"

"I'm not running a goddamn bed and breakfast, Markos. Feed her yourself—or better yet, fuck her as you're obviously dying to do."

"Take care with your slurs." An edge of menace coated his silken tones. "You have your own interests in her."

Cassie thought she might faint. They were talking about her as if she wasn't even there. Jerking her hand from Markos's, she demanded, "What does that mean? Nobody's doing anything with me. I'm just here to hide from Dante for a couple of days."

Antonia laughed. "Poor naïve child." She leaned closer to Markos. "Really, darling, you shouldn't continue this little charade. She should know she's only a pawn in your game."

Markos's face could have been carved of stone.

"What game?" Cassie's pulse sped.

Antonia arched one slender brow, turning her gaze on Cassie. "Dante has never mentioned Markos? That they have a...history?"

Cassie covered her mouth, backing away. "But you said..."

Markos's glare should have melted Antonia on the spot. "I think that's enough, Antonia. There are ample secrets to go around."

"Are you threatening me? Perhaps Dante would like to know about the little chemical experiment you and Simon are conducting."

Cassie didn't understand, but she could see Markos's shock, quickly masked.

Antonia laughed in triumph. "Simon thinks he's so smart. Actually believes he can supplant me. You think you can use me and discard me, at your pleasure. You're both wrong." She whirled, walking toward the door, her hips swaying with every step.

When she reached it, she turned back, eyes glinting. "There
are
enough secrets to go around, Markos. Just remember, your little pet has her part to play in this drama. Don't forget where your loyalties lie." She swept from the room.

Cassie was chilled right down to the bone. She'd never had such malice directed her way before.

"Markos?"

He looked at her as though she were a stranger.

"You said you didn't know Dante. What's happening? I want to leave."

His gaze turned sorrowful. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid that's impossible."

"You can't keep me prisoner here."

"You said Dante did."

"But Dante—"
Cares about me.
Cassie's shoulders drooped as the truth sank in. "He was trying to protect me, wasn't he? From you. That's why he was so strict with me. Because he knew you would hurt me."

"I would never harm you, little one."

She braced her shoulders, clenched her fists. "Let me go, Markos. Dante will kill you when he finds out."

He closed in, touched her hair.

Cassie fought not to show her fear.

"He won't know, little Cassie. Not until I'm ready for him. Not until the trap is set."

How had she been such a fool? "I'm the bait, aren't I? To draw him in?"

Markos's hand cupped the back of her neck. Slowly, he leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

She wanted to shriek
eww
! but some instinct told her to hide her revulsion, so she squeezed her eyes shut. "Please let me go. He'll pay you whatever you want, if you'll just take me back."

His smile held no mirth. "Poor innocent. Dante and I will not rest until one of us is destroyed. You're simply a part of the game." His eyes warmed. "But don't worry, little one. When it's all over, I'll take good care of you."

He moved toward the door. "I'll send someone to attend to your needs. You're safe with me, Cassie. Don't worry about a thing. It will all be over soon."

The door closed quietly.

Cassie slid to the floor, huddling into a ball, wishing she could turn back the clock.

Forgive me, Dante. I've been a child.

* * *

Jace groaned, fighting the covers, struggling to wake up. Sitting up quickly, she clutched her hair and shoved at the dream.

Hunched over her knees, arms wrapped around her middle, she heard her mother's broken sobs echo while she tried to choke back her own.

"I don't understand, Justine. How could you let this happen?"

I don't know, Mama.
But she did. She'd lost her temper, her damnable temper. In her eagerness to be left alone, to let go of her burdens, she'd pushed Jimmy aside. She'd driven him so far afield that he'd been afraid to ask for help. Wanting to prove that he could meet her standards, he'd tried to take care of his own troubles.

And met his death.

How? At whose hands?

He'd been drunk; she knew that. He was weak, just as her mother was. But he'd attempted to protect the girl—from what? And what trouble had he been in, that he'd felt he couldn't come to her?

The Keeper is dangerous and she can't see it...don't let her go to The Club again.

The Club. The key was there, she could feel it.

The blond man named Simon. These girls aren't as young as they seem...they're reclaiming their power...there is much I could show you.

Reclaiming their power.
The phrase Jimmy had used. The Club...a doorway to the cult? Jace thought back to black-masked faces leaning forward...bare breasts and long dark hair...a tall figure in black robes...a black feathered mask.

Dante's mask.

He had lied about being at The Club. What else had he lied about?

DANTE SABANNE KNOWS MORE THAN HE'S TELLING.

Jace picked up the phone and dialed. "Earl? Don't leave—I'm headed your way." She leaped off the bed, grabbed her keys and raced out the door.

* * *

Earl and Captain Gonzales were waiting in the interview room; somehow Jace wasn't surprised to see Gabriel there, too, eyes shadowed, face strained.

"Don't you have cases to try, Counselor?" she asked.

A crease appeared between his brows, but he didn't answer.

Her captain did. "I invited him, Detective. I want this one to go by the book."

She could read nothing in Gabriel's impassive stance as he leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

Capt. Gonzales spoke again. "My condolences regarding your brother. Are you sure you want to do this now?"

"I've made what arrangements I can until the body's released." Her mother had gone crazy over that, thinking about an autopsy being performed on him. As if he hadn't already done a fair job of abusing his body on his own.

She looked up. "I think there's a connection between The Club and this cult. Maybe members are recruited inside there."

"What makes you say that?" Earl asked.

"My brother left me a note asking me to warn a girl to stay away from The Club."

She heard Gabriel swear under his breath. She kept her eyes on Earl's.

"Another note you didn't tell anyone about?" Earl asked.

Jace felt her captain's stare. She was in deep, and it was only going to get worse. "It was...personal." She faced her superior. "My brother was always in some jam or another and asking me to bail him out." Closing her eyes against a stabbing guilt, she continued. "He said he was in trouble but he was going to rescue himself this time. I wasn't even sure who the girl was. He didn't give me much to go on."

"Did you find her?" Earl asked.

Jace stared at the table. "Yeah. She's Dante Sabanne's sister."

Gabriel pushed away from the wall. "He's in this up to his neck, isn't he? What else do you know that you haven't told anyone?"

Earl held up a hand. "Just a goddamn minute here. Go back to the connection, Jace. What makes you think there's a link between The Club and this cult?"

"Nothing solid, mostly a hunch. Jimmy mentioned something weird about a guy named the Keeper. I don't know who that is, but it sounds kind of mystical, you know?" She glanced over at the captain. "And then the last time I went to The Club, this guy I'd seen before used a phrase I'd heard from Jimmy."

"What phrase?"

"Something about reclaiming power. I didn't pay much attention when Jimmy was gushing about this new group he'd found, but I remember those words. Also mention of mankind giving up its ancient powers...and something about a
Magos
."

"What the hell is that?" Earl asked.

Jace tensed. "It's...it means a sorcerer."

"Sorcerer?" Gabriel snorted.

Earl kept his gaze on her. "And this guy at The Club?"

"He was talking about the young girls there, that's what first got my attention. That they weren't as innocent as they seemed..." She stared into the distance, trying to recall his words. "That they were reclaiming their power as women."

"You think it's the same thing? Pretty sketchy."

"I asked him about goddesses and priestesses and really got his attention. He said he could show me things..."

"Why'd you say that? About priestesses?"

"Because Dante Sabanne told me about an ancient religion in which the priestess initiated the young men of the tribe. 'Led them into the Light'—it's a phrase Jimmy used, too."

Gabriel spoke up. "That amulet you saw at his place, is it related?"

He says not.
"I don't know."

The captain intervened. "At his place?"

Jace met his gaze. "I remembered last night where I'd seen that design before, the one on the discs found with the bodies—it was at Sabanne's house. He says it's a copy of a family heirloom."

"Go on," Earl said evenly. "What happened about the lab tests?"

"He agreed to help Victor right off. Didn't seem to mind at all."
Listen to your heart, Justine. It is telling you to trust me.

But he was lying about something. What?

"So you don't suspect him of anything, just because he agreed to run some tests?" Gabriel's suspicion was clear.

"I didn't say that."

He leaned over the table. "Would it make it easier if you knew about his company?"

"Prince Labs? He admitted freely that he owns the majority of shares."

"Did he also note that his company is fighting to be allowed to do human trials on a synthesis of a very promising bufotoxin—one that will make him a rich man if it's approved?"

"He's already rich. What's a bufotoxin?"

Earl spoke up now. "Best I can tell, it comes from a South American tree frog. A macro-molecule, Jace." He waited for her to make the connection. "It has a lot of medical possibilities, they think—but in its pure form, it's deadly."

"Macro-molecule?" she echoed. "Like in the blood samples?" She turned to Gabriel. "Where did you get this information?"

"Does it matter? It's him, Jace. Can't you see he's got to be involved?"

"We have to look at all the angles, Gabriel. He's not stupid—why would he use something that could be traced right back to him?"

"He's also into some weird shit," Earl rumbled.

She glanced at Gonzales' impassive face. It just didn't add up. "I don't think he would—"

"Jesus!" Gabriel slapped his palms on the table. "What is it about this guy, Jace? Think, for chrissakes—look at the facts. Three people have died now, at least two of them from poison, at which Dante Sabanne is an acknowledged expert. He's also into weird religions and has stuff like that all over his house. He grows poisonous plants in his own greenhouse. He stands to make a bundle of money from this bufotoxin, but he's having trouble being allowed to take it to human trials. So maybe he starts up this cult and uses these people for guinea pigs, only things go bad and they die.