The Keepers: Declan

“You attacked me. And don’t call me witchy.”

“I call it like I see it. Either way you left behind a scroll that has Sienna in a frenzy. What does it mean?”

“I have no idea.”

“Do you …” He paused, frowning as his senses prickled the way they always did when something wasn’t right.

“Declan?”

He held out a hand to silence her and moved toward the sliding door. Stepping out, he did a quick scan of the area, his heightened hearing straining for something that didn’t fit.

Silence dulled his suspicions and he turned back to her, only to grab onto the door as the room began to tilt.

Shit.

Dizziness took over and he drew in a ragged breath, blinking as everything went blurry. What the hell?

“It’s okay,” Kate said, coming closer. “You’ll be okay.”

“What did you do?” he grumbled, stumbling toward the couch.

She dropped to his side, a hand on his arm. He wanted to throttle her. Every deceitful, beautiful damn inch of her. “It’s a sedative.”

“Bitch!”

When he reared forward, the room began spinning and she pushed him back down. “Easy, warrior boy. Sleep it off.”

“You roofied me? Like a damn drunk sorority chick?”

“I had no choice.”

“If you wanted to have your way with me, all you had to do was ask.”

A brief laugh escaped her but she was quick to reel it in. “That’s not what this is about!”

Declan’s reply was forgotten as his instincts bristled. He turned away, staring at the porch outside.

“Declan?”

He shook his head again, focusing on the noise. What was that? Declan looked at her, grimacing against the black cloud that threatened to swallow him. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“I have to leave and I can’t have you following me again. This was the only way.”

“I’m going to hunt you down, Kate, and when I find you, I’m going to feed you to Harper myself.” His instincts rumbled a clear warning to him, this time unmistakable in its strength and accuracy. He knew when to trust them and he knew trouble when it was brewing. His hand shot out and gripped her arm. “Kate, you have to run.”

She flinched, a frown creasing her brows.

“Run.”

She swatted his hand. “Declan, you’re in no shape for that right now.”

Declan brought up both arms as the darkness beckoned, pulling her toward him with as much strength as he could muster. “They’re here. Run!”

****

The air whooshed out of Kate as if he’d struck her. She reeled back just in time to see the front door burst open in an explosion of splintering wood.

Megan stood at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a skin-tight black suit, her legs planted firmly apart.

“Go, dammit” Declan grunted, swaying as he struggled to his feet.

Kate stared at the witch, taking in her smug smile and penetrating gaze. If Megan was here, her warrior partners wouldn’t be far. Too many of them. And Kate had just debilitated the one man who could help her.

And put him in danger.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Declan,” she whispered, almost choking on the panic that surged through her. “I didn’t think they’d find me so soon.”

The windows exploded, the screech of shattering glass ripping through the house. Declan lunged for Kate, shielding her body with his.

Crushing her beneath his weight, he didn’t budge, simply pegged her with a dark stare, his hands gripping her shoulders. He whispered something under his breath as intense heat flooded through her, almost scalding her from the inside out. Gulping for air, she pushed him away.

“You have to get out of here.” Declan pulled back, breaking the connection. The release of heat was instant. They rose, his movements unsteady. Kate bit down on the guilt.

“Go, dammit!” he snapped, shoving her away.

“I can’t leave you here.”

“Now you decide to play fair?”

“This is different,” she replied, turning to face Megan.

The witch grinned and began to channel more energy at Kate. The house began to shake violently, two sliding doors shattering in response.

Fear slammed home and Kate stood her ground. Glaring at the witch, she drew on her defensive powers that would nullify the magic bristling around them.

Kate barely flinched as heat pooled in her stomach, her survival instincts stronger than her hatred of the foreign magic. The confrontation was intense but didn’t last long. Kate sensed Megan’s resistance crumble and she concentrated on absorbing the witch’s energy, immobilizing it.

If only it wasn’t temporary.

“Kate!” Declan grunted, fury twisting his expression.

She whirled around as Max and Rick stepped through the broken sliding doors, glass crunching beneath their boots.

Spotting Declan, they charged him simultaneously.

Declan shoved her away and she reared back, only to collide with Harper who’d come in the back way. She lashed out, her fist connecting with him in a powerful punch.

He caught her wrist, twisting her arm behind her, and slammed her body against his. Thick arms snaked around her, and a syringe was shoved into her neck. “I told you I’d come for you,” he laughed, his voice thick with mockery. He inhaled deeply, breathing her in, and dipped his face against hers. This time, all traces of amusement had vanished. “Ah, a Bennett. I’d recognise his scent anywhere, I just never expected it on you.”

A shudder ripped through her and everything went blurry, numb, and she sought out Declan as she crumbled.

As he struggled with his attackers, their gazes met and held for a long moment until her eyes fluttered closed.

Declan.

****

Everything inside him hammered in protest as Declan saw Kate succumb to the drug. Rose Thorn? Shit.

He fought for his own consciousness, his protective instincts hampered in a way that was driving him crazy. “KATE!” he roared, charging Harper with every ounce of remaining strength he had.

Harper’s warriors were on him before he even got close to her. He fought them off with a low growl, digging deep for the strength that evaded him. In a tumble of blurry movements, he swung his fists, but they kept coming until they had him subdued. Thanks to the drugs, what would have been an impossible task was now an easy one.

What the hell had she given him?

“Kate!” he rasped, as he saw Harper hoist her across his shoulder. Her hair and arms hung loosely down his back as he walked away. Declan tried to break free but stumbled, the warriors pinning him to the ground. The right side of his face crushed into the carpet. With two heavy men on top of him, Declan watched Kate disappear onto the porch. He grunted as a rumble of furious energy bubbled inside.

He focused that energy on the metal porch railing outside, channelling the fury. As Harper marched toward the stairs, the railings began to groan from the onslaught of heat. The stairs caught fire, destroying their escape route.

“What’s happening?” Max shouted.

Harper turned back to the house, Kate still slung across his shoulder. “It’s the Keeper. What the fuck are you waiting for?” he bellowed at his men. “I have the woman. Destroy him!”

Declan heaved backward with all the strength he had, shoving the surprised men off him. He struggled to his feet as something heavy and hard smashed against his head. He dropped to the ground with a fierce growl. “Kate!”

“Let’s get out of here!” Max bellowed as a nearby curtain went up in flames, and delivered a final kick into Declan’s ribs.

And everything went black.

CHAPTER NINE

Failure burned more than Declan cared to admit.

And although he should welcome the unrelenting headache as it meant he was alive, it only fuelled his frustration.

Refusing to dwell on the mammoth crap of Kate’s disappearance, Declan turned his Harley Davidson toward Rapid Falls.

A town where people were friendly, sociable and determined to maintain their traditions. A peaceful village surrounded by mountains, rivers and grape vineyards.

Peaceful, my ass.

Frustration chewing at the last of his patience, he slowed the bike to a crawl and made his way through the main road. The street was lined with ancient trees, immaculate gardens, quaint stores, and old thatched buildings meticulously restored by the townsfolk. Everything was shrouded in snow.

It was quite a contrast to the hustle and bustle of New Orleans.

He parked his bike outside his brother’s restaurant, abandoned his helmet on the seat and went inside, waving at old friends standing further down the sidewalk. He should have gone over to greet them. They’d all be combing the Bennett vineyards soon to assist with the annual harvest, but his mood was beyond idle chit chat.

He stood in the doorway, willing away the gloom that always came over him whenever he walked into the restaurant.

Sarah’s restaurant.

Raw brick walls, a wooden bar, and low lighting. It was modern, but warm and comforting. Although still unfinished, the old pub had been converted into a dining experience his sister would’ve been proud of.

Her dream – gone in a flash of violence.

The memory reared its head before Declan could stop it and he slammed the door so hard that the hinges groaned in protest.

“Whoa, look what the cat dragged in,” Ethan said, walking into the room. He unloaded a box of alcohol onto the bar counter, his easy smile fading as he took in his brother’s harsh frown. Without saying a word, he reached under the counter and produced a bottle of bourbon.

Declan discarded his gloves and jacket on a nearby table. The drink was needed, the warm liquid offering the comfort he sought. He held out the glass for a refill.

Ethan’s narrowed eyes scrutinized Declan as he judged his brother’s mood. His own short dark hair arranged to perfection, freshly shaven, and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, Ethan looked a far cry from Declan’s ragged appearance.

Not that Declan cared. He glanced around the room and gave a nod of approval. “You’ve made progress.”

“No thanks to you.”

“Hey, I told you that this was your baby. Besides, I’ve had my hands full.”

“With bourbon and women apparently.”

Declan held the glass to his lips, pausing, and flashed his brother a smirk. “Careful, brother, you’re starting to sound like Archer.”

“He’s worried, Declan.”

“He should back off. I’m not about to lose the plot again.”

Once had been enough; he’d almost drowned himself in alcohol and grief.

Sienna walked through the swinging door, a slender vision of red hair and pale skin, carrying a box of wine.

His witch.

The woman he was duty bound to defend and did so without resentment or regret. A devotion few others could understand. But they fought the same war, carried the same weight that came with their responsibilities, and shared the same grief over the ones they’d lost.

She was his best friend, his ally, and one of the few people who could maintain a stand-off with him. They’d often butted heads, but she was like a sister to him and he adored her.

“Declan!” she gasped, her pensive expression shifting to pure delight. “You’re back!”

He went to her, removing the box from her arms and setting it on the floor. When he turned around, she pounced, throwing her arms around him.

He kissed her head, breathing in her familiar smell that always reminded him of home. “Hey, witchy.”

She pulled back to flash him a smile but it was quick to vanish when she took in his messy appearance. “You look … ”

“Gorgeous? Handsome?”

“Tired.”

His teasing smile faded and he gave a quick nod. “It’s been a crap few days. Is Archer here?”

“He’s at Lora’s store,” she replied. “She needed help shifting a few boxes.”

Lora’s clothing boutique was situated across the street. She was an old friend of Rose’s and a witch, but had given up magic many years ago when her daughter had fled town. Even though Lora had refused the protection of a Keeper, they were equally protective of her. “Is she okay?”

“Lora’s fine. You just missed Tara. You should call her.”

“The harvest?”

“She has everything under control but I don’t think she’s itching to speak to you about work.”

Declan frowned, not up for a chat about his relationship with Tara. Their attractive estate manager had a great smile and an even better personality. She’d been a fitting distraction but that’s all it had been. “Don’t tell her you saw me.”

Sienna shot him a look of disgust. “You’re such an ass to her.”

“I’ve only ever been honest with her. She knows where we stand.”

“I don’t know why she still wants anything to do with you.”

“Of course you wouldn’t know,” Declan retorted, cracking a smirk. “You’ve never had sex with me.”

Her face scrunched in horror and she punched his arm. “Declan! Ew!”

He laughed and finished his drink, nudging the empty glass at his brother.

Raising a brow, Ethan refilled the glass and slid it toward him. “Where’s the girl?”

Declan exhaled noisily and sank onto a vacant bar stool. “She’s gone.”

Sienna’s shocked gasp nipped at his words. “As in Harper has her or killed her?”

“She’s still alive.”

“Where is she?”

Declan rolled his eyes. “If I knew, she’d be here, not off with the damn warlock.”

“You lost her?” they asked in perfect unison and he almost flinched at their incredulous tones.

Almost.

But flinching would reveal his disgust.

“How could you let that happen?” Ethan asked, irritation lining his words.

“The wildcat drugged me this morning.” Declan took another sip of whiskey which did nothing to ease the growing frustration. “Long story.”

“She sounds feisty.”

“Feisty’s going to get her killed.”

“You know what this means, right?”

“Trust me, brother. I’ve had all day to process what this means.”

And it only fuelled his anger every time he did.

“Why did they take her? They could’ve killed her right there, absorbed her powers, and got on with it. Why go to the trouble of taking her?”

Exactly.

But Harper hadn’t killed her, which meant he needed her for something else. What that was worried him more than he cared to admit.

“Maybe they’re hoping she’ll side with them,” Sienna suggested. “She’d be more powerful than Harper could ever be as the magic originated with her.”

“She’d never side with them.”

“You say that like you know her.”

Every damn inch of her.

“We’ve met before.”

“You have? Why haven’t you said anything until now?”

“Because it wasn’t relevant.”

“She broke in here, stole two of our daggers, stabbed your brother –”

“I’m very well aware of her crimes, Sienna.”

“– and you failed to think it was relevant?”

“Unless it was more than a simple meeting,” Ethan added, watching Declan. Apparently, the warrior knew his brother too well.

“Can we focus on what’s important here?” Declan snapped, slamming the glass on the table. “Harper has her and he’ll use her powers any way he can. Once he has access to them, we can kiss our sweet-assed victories goodbye.”

The truth behind his words hung in the air like an unwelcome ache.

Sienna nibbled her bottom lip, her eyes filled with renewed concern. “If Harper insists she sides with them, her options will be limited. If she doesn’t do it willingly, he’ll kill her.”

Declan swallowed, hating to hear the words spoken aloud. He nodded, reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife and a map.

“What about the hybrid in her?” Ethan asked.

“No one knows about that. Besides, her mother used a spell that kept that side of her dormant. Her witch side is stronger. Any Keeper ability she has is nowhere near ours.”

“If Harper’s discovered she’s a hybrid, would it help him?”

“Not much,” Sienna replied. “The powers they scavenge are always diluted in the process. If her Keeper side is weak, there’d be little to gain.”

Declan spread the map across the bar and glanced at Sienna. “Up for a location spell?”

Green eyes flashed with curiosity. “She’s magical. A location spell won’t work for her unless I have her blood.”

Declan reached for the knife and slashed his palm, ignoring the pierce of pain.

“Declan?” Sienna’s voice tore through the silence, laced with confusion.

He held his hand above the map and pumped his fist.

“Declan!” Sienna snapped, snatching the towel off Ethan’s shoulder as he went to lock the front door. “What are you doing?”

Blood dripped onto the map, red and angry, a reminder of the war they’d face if Harper scavenged Kate’s magic.

Like hell.

He took the towel from Sienna and wrapped his hand. “The location spell, Sienna.”

“This won’t work. I need her blood.”

“Use mine.”

“I can’t search for her without her blood!”

“I’m not asking you to search for hers.”

Sienna’s eyes narrowed before widening as understanding dawned. “You marked her, didn’t you?”

Damn right.

CHAPTER TEN

Kate had never been afraid of the dark.

Until now.

Although she’d been unconscious most of the time, she suspected Harper had taken her underground. It was too dark, cold, and quiet to be anywhere else. The walls were damp, the air smelt musty, and Kate wasn’t sure what she wished for more – fresh air or sunlight on her face.

Both would signal freedom which now seemed like an impossible feat. Not with the shackles around her wrists and ankles. Her skin was raw, the flesh red from the binds.

She had long since given up trying to free herself. They’d used shackles that were impossible to destroy, despite her strength. Since they’d taken her, she’d hoped her powers would set her free.

But no.

Her captives knew how to curb them.

Bastards.

The sound of approaching footsteps sent Kate’s heartbeat racing. She drew in a quiet breath, bracing herself for the onslaught of evil coming her way.

The key turned in the lock, the sound loud in the quiet room. The wooden door pushed open, scraping along the sandy floor. A beam of light flooded the room, a brief respite from the darkness.

Harper.

Kate lay still, pretending to be asleep, hoping to gain the element of surprise. She peered at him through the hair that fanned her face. Her stomach recoiled as he approached, a mocking smile on thin lips; a syringe in one hand, a torch in the other. Without saying a word, he turned around to hang the torch on a hook in the wall.

The face of a demon stared back at her. Piercing black eyes drawn into a frown of hatred, snarling teeth, and an expression designed to instigate fear.

Air evaded her and she stared at it in horror.

He turned back to her, and she almost baulked as he edged closer, his heavy boots thudding across the floor.

A tattoo.

Suppressing a shudder, Kate forced herself to breathe, knowing she had little chance of ever getting out of here if he injected her again. With each dose, she grew weaker. Their drug of choice brought with it an overwhelming exhaustion she’d never experienced before. It had been hours since her last dose and a fresh one would seal her fate.

Kate waited, biding her time. He reeked of alcohol, the smell permeating the air as he approached. The bed creaked from his weight and she tried not to flinch when he stroked her hip. His hand played with the hem of her shirt, scraping calloused fingers along her skin.

“All this time we’ve been looking for a way to beat the Beckham witch and her trio of guard dogs. Little did I know that the weapon I needed would come so beautifully packaged.” His calm voice made her insides twist. With a sinister gentleness he swept the hair from her face.

He stroked her cheek with one hand whilst the other rested on her hip and she had to bite down on the inward shudder.

Sighing, he shifted beside her and withdrew to ready the syringe. “But you’ve also been a pain in the ass.”

Kate reared up, ramming her elbow into his face with a force that surprised her. She was weak from the drugs but it was enough to disarm him.

He fell backward with a grunt, knocking over the torch. Kate sprang to her feet, her movements shaky, head fuzzy, body still shackled. Somewhere through the haze, she was able to charge forward, her drive for freedom stronger than ever.

This was her only chance.

She grabbed him by the shoulders, ramming her knee into his face. He yelled out as blood spattered from his nose.

“You bitch!” he screamed as he struggled to his feet, swiping at the blood.

“Small price to pay considering everything you’ve done to me.” Her voice, croaky with fury and hatred, sounded foreign.

He charged her, the syringe clasped in his hand. The tiny room prevented her from dodging him and they stumbled across the bed.

She caught the flash of the syringe as he rammed it toward her – his only chance of subduing her – but she rolled out of its aim, reared up and butted her head against his.

Ignoring the pain, she scrambled for the syringe, a loud guttural groan echoing through the room. Lightning quick, she ripped it from his hand and slammed the lethal dose into his neck.

His eyes widened as his jaw fell open. The effect was instantaneous, the debilitating concoction all too familiar to her.

“No matter where you go, I will find you,” he murmured.

“You should have killed me when you had the chance. I will never give you my powers willingly.”

He didn’t reply, his eyes fluttered and he slumped forward, silent, before going still.

Serves him right.

Kate searched for the keys he’d pocketed to unlock the door. She couldn’t resist grinning when she found them along with a small pocket knife and the silver chain that held Declan’s skeleton key. Her hopes soared as she fastened the necklace around her neck, tucking the key inside her shirt where it nestled like a comforting reminder of freedom. Her fingers shook as she unlocked the shackles and secured Harper to the bed.

Sweet justice.

She bolted for the door, relieved to find a dimly-lit passage that led to a wooden staircase, and headed straight toward it.

Her head snapped up at the sound of voices above her. All her senses were on overload. Everything was louder and clearer. Her mind spinning, she tuned into the voices behind the door. The television was on in the background, muffling their words, but she recognised them all. Despite the aroma of fried food, she could even smell them. Musky men, oozing aggression. Ugh.

Wincing, she nudged open another door, fear curling her insides. The passage was clear and she edged closer. Her heart screamed in her chest.

Keeping her back to the wall, she peered around the corner, her breath catching when she found the living room empty.

Her spirits soared at a massive glass sliding door that led outside, but sunk when she took in the endless mountains surrounding them.

God, where had they taken her?

Two black Hummers were parked in the driveway that turned into a long dirt track down the mountain.

Kate closed her fingers around the skeleton key and hoped like hell it would jimmy a locked car too.

A door slammed in the room next door, followed by footsteps and Max’s voice, spurring her on.

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