Clearly, he hadn’t gotten over his aversion to touch. Especially hers. “Yes, well, I’m not going with you, and I don’t want my problems murdered. An attempt would only create more problems.”
“I’m afraid your days of making your own decisions are over. I’ve got problems of my own, and I can’t see to them until I’ve seen to yours.”
She backed away from him.
He shook his head. “Don’t you dare run, Tinker Bell. I’m strong enough to chase, and I don’t think you’ll like the results.”
Her stupid body tingled, a clear disagreement. Did he wield some strange ability she’d never before encountered?
Stop thinking and move! She faked a pass to the right. He followed, and she darted to the left. Then, she ran at full steam.
He slammed into her, knocking her down. He wasn’t even winded when he said, “Consider this your final warning,” his warm breath caressing the back of her neck.
Oh my…. His weight was as heavy as before, pressing her into the ground, but this time, because she knew the culprit, she didn’t feel threatened. She felt … achy, her nerve endings sizzling with undeniable awareness.
“Let me go. I’ll hurt you if you don’t.”
He stood, dragging her with him. He held on tightly, surprising her, his arms steel bands she couldn’t break—didn’t want to break. But he was still shaking, as if touching her was somehow more painful to him than he’d claimed her nearness was. It shouldn’t be. Not yet.
“Kane,” she said. “I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Sweetheart,” he replied, practically breaking her heart with the sudden thread of gentle kindness in his tone, “this is for your own good. I promise.”
No, it wasn’t. He simply didn’t understand. She tugged off one of her gloves. Her hands were her only weapons; he would hate her for what she was about to do to him, would never again come near her, but he’d left her with no other option. “Last chance.”
“I told you. I’m not letting you go.” He hefted her over his shoulder and trudged forward, shouldering his way through tree limbs determined to slap him. “I’m saving you.”
“You can’t save me.” Fighting wave after wave of guilt, Josephina reached out and gripped his forearm. “Please don’t make me do this.”
“And just what is it you think you’re doing, hmm?”
Leaving you helpless. Tears welled in her eyes. No other choice. She tightened her grip on him. Instantly, her pores became tiny vacuums, sucking the strength out of him and into her.
He stilled, gasping. “What are you doing, Tinker Bell? Stop that.”
“I’m sorry.” Warmth flooded her; warmth and the fizz of energy … so much energy, lighting her up. No, not lighting, she realized a second later, but darkening. Then, utter blackness gobbled up the light, cloaking her, sending her tumbling straight into a spiraling pit of despair.
Kane set her on her feet.
A terrible scream cut its way through her throat. Her knees buckled, but he was no longer able to hold her up. She slammed into the ground, contact finally severed. What was happening? What was wrong with her? And the screams—hers, and someone else’s, someone sinister—argh! Growing louder and louder.
And yet, through it all, a single whisper managed to claim her attention. I hate you. Hate you so much. Want to kill you. Will kill you. Soon, soon, so very soon.
I don’t understand, she thought, panicked.
You deserve pain, and I’ll make sure you get it if you go near him again. He’s mine. Mine. I won’t share him with you. Never you.
Nearing hysteria, she drew on every reservoir of strength she possessed, lumbered to her knees and crawled forward, away from Kane. Yes, she had to escape Kane. All of this had come from him. Belonged to him. The more distance, the better. Please.
Rocks sliced at her palms and knees, but she didn’t care. In the distance, she heard the snap of breaking wood. The whoosh of air. Something hard slammed into her, knocking her feet out from under her and planting her face first in the dirt.
When the daze cleared, she realized the culprit wasn’t Kane this time, but a tree.
She fought her way free, tears streaming down her cheeks, and continued her journey forward.
“Josephina,” Kane called. “Tinker Bell … what did … you do? To me?” His voice was weak, rasping.
A spark of light dashed across her small line of vision, followed by another. Soon, colors formed, taking shape. Bushes, tree roots and trunks, piles of leaves, a coyote stalking past—only to stop and bare its teeth, as if preparing to attack her. But another tree fell, slamming against her and scaring the animal away.
Hate you. Hate you, hate you, hate you.
Pain momentarily stunned her, her abused back threatening to shatter.
Before she could fight her way free, a pair of boots appeared in front of her. Boots she recognized.
Josephina swallowed a groan. No. No! Anyone but him.
“Well, well,” the owner of those boots said. “What do we have here?”
She recognized the voice, as well. Leopold, her half brother, had found her. He would ensure she returned home … back to her own personal hell.
KANE HEARD TINKER Bell screaming, and battled a rage unlike any other.
Mine, he thought. No one was allowed to hurt her, not even him, not even as angry as he was with her for what she’d done to him.
What had she done to him?
He wanted to stand and help her, whatever was wrong with her. He did. Yet, his body was too weak.
He’d vowed never to be weak again. Or, barring that, to kill the cause.
Tinker Bell was the cause, somehow, but he wouldn’t be killing her. He would be … he wasn’t sure, and didn’t like that he couldn’t decide.
One second he’d been as normal as a man like him could be, carrying her over his shoulder. The next, he’d felt warm silk pressed against his arm, and he’d begun to weaken. He’d set her down as his limbs began to tremble. Then, he’d crumbled.
But then, so had she.
The darkness he’d carried for so long had thinned, but instead of strength taking its place, he’d experienced extreme fatigue.
He’d watched, helpless, as Tinker Bell curled into herself. Her skin had gone pallid, and horror had consumed her features. She’d looked … haunted. He’d reached for her, but she’d managed to crawl away. He hadn’t managed to follow. Soon she’d disappeared beyond the line of trees.
Must help her.
“So, it’s safe to say this night isn’t going according to plan.”
William’s voice hit him, and he struggled to sit up.
“The girl.”