Beyond Bewitching (5 page)

The man holding her ankle narrowed his eyes at her as he slipped the shoes from her feet. “Give up the pretense. No disguise can conceal your true identity from a bounty hunter of Xanthus.”

A bounty hunter?

“I am Patience Wyndham. Sarah Pennymead is dead.”

He snorted. Even with the conviction in her voice, he clearly didn’t take her word for anything but lies. “You leave a trail of red mist wherever you go. Only one who abandoned the lawful ways of the Goddess could have an essence so filled with the color of blood. Bind her hands with the cuffs, Tanner.”

Red mist?

Her soul had bled dry the night her son had died.

Cool metal closed around one wrist, and her vision blurred. She considered fighting for one short second. Hurting the men would serve no purpose. Hadn’t she already decided that dying didn’t damage her cause?

She held out her hand for the other cuff. “Kill me.”

Her death would weaken Naga to the point of being unable to leave the catacombs. He’d need decades to gain enough strength to conduct the search she’d feigned, and she would finally find peace.

The man who’d grabbed her around the waist—Tanner—narrowed his eyes at her. The second band snapped into place. “Reverse psychology doesn’t work, either. Our job is to bring you to justice, not carry it out. Bind her legs, John.”

John removed a coil of leather lacing from his belt. “Unlike the elders of the Black Triad, we don’t act as judge, jury, and executioner. You’ll stand trial before the Xanthus clan.”

Her captors possessed honor, something she hadn’t expected. “What are the charges?”

Weaving the strap around her ankles, John tied a knot. “You don’t deny that you’re an elder of the Triad?”

She shrugged. “Would you believe me if I did? I have nothing to gain by denying what I am.”

Tanner tensed behind her. Had he thought she’d try to convince them to release her? Or had he had doubts about her identity? “The charges will be read to you prior to the proceedings.”

“I have stolen, murdered, and left my enemies for dead. The curses I’ve brought down on the world would strike fear into the hearts of the most hardened of men. I have no heart, and my soul is black. The accusations lodged against me are true, whether I know them or not.” Perhaps if she provoked them with her misdeeds, they’d tire of her bragging and end the business sooner rather than later. “I have tortured men for the sole purpose of seeing them suffer.”

Keeping his fingers woven in the leather laces, John rolled his eyes. “You have also tortured men with your endless chatter, no doubt.”

Tanner’s chuckle vibrated through her spine. “She does talk a lot. But then again, most women do.”

For the first time in years, her temper truly sparked. “I’ll bet you have to beat them off with a stick. Or do you gag them while you rut like a pig?”

John’s palm smoothed up her calf. “No need for a gag. I enjoy hearing a woman scream when she comes. Besides, I’d find plenty for her mouth to do. She’d be too busy for talking.”

Despite the riot of tingles racing up her thigh to her pussy, she stifled her body’s reaction, focusing instead on the revulsion his words incited. “Men like you are the reason women like me exist. Sex is always about what you can make her do for you, and then you claim you’re a great lover. If she screams, it’s because she’s in pain or she’s faking her orgasm so you’ll stop.”

His hand stilled at her knee, and he frowned. “I would never force a woman to do anything she didn’t like or want.”

“Is that what happened to you, Sarah?” Tanner’s breath tickled her ear, sending a flurry of anticipation to her nipples. “Did hatred of a man who used and abused you turn your soul black? Not all men—”

A snarl erupted from her chest, and she flung herself free of her captors. The volcanic heat in her veins from John’s and Tanner’s touch changed to ice. She jerked her ankles apart, shredding the bonds. The metal cuffs shattered and fell from her wrists as she allowed her fury full rein. She didn’t need a mirror to know her gray-green irises had suddenly drowned in the blackness of her past.

If they’d questioned her powers before, they wouldn’t anymore.

She struggled to her feet. Dizziness swept over her, but she straightened her spine and pulled in a fortifying breath. “Kill me or die.”

Gathering his wits after Sarah’s surprising escape, Tanner debated standing to face off with her. She’d suffered through the Goddess only knew what at the hands of a cruel, sadistic man. Putting himself on equal footing wouldn’t calm her rage or increase the odds of taking her alive. Given the ease with which she’d destroyed her bonds, he and John would likely have to kill her or be killed in a recapture.

But is she truly evil? Or is she protecting herself?

John rubbed his right hand, the leather straps having burned bright red stripes across his palm when she’d pitched herself sideways. “Why didn’t you kill us when you had the chance, Sarah? You could’ve, you know.”

Throwing a frown at his partner, Tanner snorted. “Great strategy, John. Antagonize an angry woman.”

“She doesn’t
want
to hurt us. Otherwise, I’m pretty damn sure we’d be dead already. Isn’t that right, Sarah?”

The black began to fade from her eyes, but she turned her back to them before the natural gray-green color returned. She’d helped form the third side to complete the triangle of the shifters’ power. With the destruction of Kazmer, could the Black Triad have lost more than an essential leader? Were the remaining elders weakened even more than anyone had thought? Or had Sarah finally realized the cost of her choice?

She also hadn’t taken advantage of the opportunity to flee. Her ability to break what Tanner had thought were unbreakable restraints left him confused. If she’d meant the “or die” part of her challenge, he and John would be lifeless bodies on the ground by now. She should’ve dropped them with a single magickal blow and been on her way.

He laughed with a sudden realization. “You
do
have a heart. And your soul is no longer black.”

John pushed to his feet but didn’t move closer to her. “Naga’s going to be pissed.”

Spinning back around, Sarah perched her fists on her hips, emphasizing her feminine shape. Her irises were once again pitch black, her voice confident and clear. “The soul of an elder of the Black Triad cannot be redeemed.”

Her stance and attitude should’ve convinced Tanner, even if her words didn’t. He didn’t believe her, though—not when she hadn’t gone for the kill and escape. “Then you were never a true elder. Show us the source of your strength.”

She reached for the row of buttons on her blouse, her fingers working each one free of its hole without hesitation. The flaps separated, baring a narrow strip of pale skin between her breasts and down the length of her abdomen. Only a band of white lace below her full tits interrupted the view.

Flinging the shirt off her shoulders, she stripped down to her bra and formfitting skirt. She pivoted to reveal the intricate tattoo on her lower back, but not before Tanner got a peek at her dark nipples poking at the see-through lace. Her waist tapered in from the flare of hips, accentuating a perfectly rounded ass. A flash of desire zinged from his balls to his gut.

John strode up behind her, dropping to his knees and putting his face at eye level to the ink markings. Tanner joined him, remaining on his feet to study the design from above. They’d spent years learning every detail of the pattern that defined the power of a Black Triad elder. If she’d been endowed with title of “elder,” they’d know it in a matter of minutes.

Pointing to a curving black line that started at her spine, John traced outward, his finger nearly skimming along her back. One swirl led to the upper left corner of the inverted triangle, ending in hollow circle. The opposite side mirrored the first. A bold outline encased the three angles in red.

Every additional thread that matched the true imprint made Tanner’s stomach twist a little tighter. He glanced away, unable to watch as John began his study of the central runes. She wasn’t pure evil. She couldn’t be.

A faint line of puckered pink skin on her shoulder blade drew Tanner’s attention. Another lay parallel above and below. More stood out against the slightly pinker skin near her neck. Several crisscrossed the area directly over the tattoo, and his jaw tensed. Someone had whipped or beaten her—on numerous occasions.

Returning his gaze to the symbols, he blinked away the haze of uncontrolled wrath. The damage had happened long ago, and based on Sarah’s claims of violence, she’d already exacted vengeance upon the man who’d hurt her. With any luck, the bastard had suffered before he met his end.

“Holy shit. Look at this, Tanner.” John picked up a leaf and ripped off the stem, using it to point out his discovery. “Right here.”

Kneeling next to him, Tanner let the filtered sunlight enhance the contrast between skin and ink. Red dye filled the center of a circle with wavy lines radiating out from it.

Sarah flinched when John gestured to the next picture, and Tanner almost didn’t notice the absent black dots—three of them.

The Black Triad is missing.

Something else occurred to him a second later. The lack of the dots signified an implication far more important than the fact that she didn’t have the mark of an elder.

John pressed his forefinger to his lips. He’d obviously realized the same thing and thought it best to keep the knowledge from her. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. Or her.

Snagging Sarah’s blouse from the ground, Tanner stood, his temper still simmering over the scars. He held it just out of her reach. “Good news. You’re not an elder.”

Her eyes widened, revealing the unusual mix of colors instead of the disconcerting wall of darkness, and her tone confirmed her disbelief. “Then how have I been able to perform the spells of the Triad?”

“The tattoo contains some symbols that amplify the abilities you already have.” She grabbed for the shirt, but he whisked it through her fingertips. Curiosity got the better of him. The scars signified something important. “Who—”

“A man.” She lunged for him, snatching the blouse from his grip. Stuffing her arms in the sleeves, she marched back to the spot where they’d landed.

How had she known what he’d started to ask? Had his thoughts seeped into her subconscious through the link that would eventually form? “No man would ever do that to a woman. Whoever left those scars on you is a
coward
.”

She worked the buttons as she slid her feet into her shoes. “Was. He’s dead. I killed him.”

If Tanner had to guess, the guy had also been tortured, cursed, and left for dead—everything he deserved.

“Scars?” John’s sudden anger matched Tanner’s mood. “What did he do to you, Sarah?”

Lifting her chin, she stared at them. The moment she regained her composure, the emotionless façade slipped into place, and she answered the question as if the beating had happened to someone else, a stranger. “I received five lashings a day until I conceived a child. My husband was sterile.”

John huffed out a noisy exhale, his revulsion apparent. “But you’ve been pregnant. I saw stretch marks on your stomach, and we know the history of your condemnation for being a witch.”

“I was raped. I never told my husband. He believed the child I carried was his.” Her voice held no inflection, her face devoid of the pain and suffering she had to have experienced. “The lashings stopped.”

Closing his eyes, Tanner massaged the tense muscles in his forehead. Her husband had probably raped her too. If anyone was justified in cultivating centuries of hatred and revenge, Sarah Pennymead was. That she hadn’t cast a spell of death upon him and John in New Orleans or Chicago spoke volumes for her inherent goodness. She hadn’t committed indiscriminant acts of violence in her time with the Black Triad. Only those who treated others in some heinous manner had been subjected to her wrath.

The need to comfort her nearly smothered him. Would she accept his empathy? He doubted it, but he wouldn’t know unless he tried.

She seemed to ignore his approach until he stood less than an arm’s length from her. Although she appeared relaxed, the sharp scent of her wariness hung in the air.

Offering his hand, he waited for her to complete the handshake. “I’m Tanner Vale, and my partner is John Grey. I’m sorry for all you had to go through. When we return to the Xanthus compound, John and I will testify on your behalf before the council.”

Her gaze skipped from him to John and back again. “I can’t go with you. I must complete my task.”

His chest squeezed. “You don’t owe anything to Naga. Let him try to find his own damn Triad replacements. You aren’t one of them.”

John joined them to stand on her other side. “You have no idea how much danger you’re in, Sarah. Naga knows you don’t have the power of an elder, and once he finds out you know, you can damn well bet he isn’t going to let you go without a fight.”

Retreating several feet from them, she clasped her hands in front of her, looking nervous yet determined. “You don’t understand. I
have
to finish what I started, and it has to be now.”

Understanding dawned, and Tanner exchanged a silent conversation with his partner as they often did in urgent situations. A quick nod confirmed their agreement.