The Keepers: Declan. Rae Rivers

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      Everything inside Kate cautioned her against trusting this man. He was a Bennett, and stood for everything she’d been taught to fear.

      He wasn’t evil, but he still frightened her. Whether that was the Keeper in him or the man, she wasn’t sure, but something told her that Declan was all trouble. He had a noble, untamed look to him that hinted at a bad boy image. Dark eyebrows and sinfully long eyelashes. Jet-black, dishevelled hair that almost touched his shoulders. His expressive blue eyes stared at her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. The man was breathtaking.

      Despite her best efforts, he’d found her and wanted answers. And now that he knew why Harper wanted her, there was no way in hell he’d let her go. She couldn’t blame him. After all, he had his own family; his own people to protect.

      But who was protecting her?

      Since her mother’s death, so much had changed. What was once a quiet life was now overrun with fear, confusion, and the supernatural. Images of Harper and his followers came to mind and she felt herself cringe. After what she’d witnessed, she had a lot to learn and the danger was far worse than she’d ever imagined.

      It terrified her.

      Her mother’s hastily scribbled letter had sparked so many questions but it had led her to the daggers. To the Bennett brothers. So maybe she’d lead with that.

      But something tugged inside, feeding her fear. She hadn’t trusted many people in her life growing up and after her mother’s death, she was even less inclined. She glanced outside, took in the bright morning sun; a new day and a new chase. A trickle of apprehension ran down her spine, along with a fresh urge to run.

      “Fine,” she said with a brief nod and went into the kitchen. “If I’m going to share dagger details with you, I’m going to do it with coffee. Want some?”

      When in doubt, add caffeine. Or alcohol, but as the sun’s rays were still fresh across the lake, she figured that coffee would be the better option.

      “Sure, thanks.”

      Kate opened the cupboard to remove two mugs and turned to the counter, keeping her back to him. Reaching into the drawer, she removed a spoon and some powdered herbs before assembling the drink.

      “So how come I never noticed you following me?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder. Declan was peering through the blinds, looking at the lake. Satisfied that he was preoccupied, she tipped a portion of herbs into his mug and stirred.

      Naughty but necessary.

      “Stealth mode is one of my talents.”

      Judging from the thick wall of muscles, his height and broad shoulders, she wondered how that was even possible. “Sure it is.”

      His eyes narrowed briefly at the sarcasm in her tone but he left it at that. “How do you know about the daggers?”

      Kate walked around the kitchen counter and handed him the coffee, ignoring the pang of guilt. His nod of thanks was brief, followed by a half smile as he took a sip. “After my mother died, I found a letter in her Grimoire urging me to find them.”

      “Your mother knew about them?”

      “According to her, they’d protect me.”

      “From Harper?”

      “From everyone.”

      He nodded, not bothering to challenge her comment.

      “Is that why you sought him out?”

      When she didn’t reply, he discarded his mug. Closing the gap between them, he turned her to face him. Her instincts yelled at her to step back, out of the reach of the man who could rewire her senses, but she fought the urge and met his gaze.

      “Why are you holding back from me, Kate?” he asked, his gentleness in stark contrast to his previous ferocity in fighting off their attackers. “I won’t harm you.”

      “But you won’t let me go either, will you?”

      “You know I can’t.” His words were barely more than a whisper, tugging at her defences. “But you’ll be safer with me than with Harper.”

      She stared at him in silence, caught by the urge to trust him but knowing she shouldn’t. Her mother had ingrained it in her as a child. Trust no one. Depend on no one. Especially if they were from the supernatural world.

      He dipped his head, his brows drawn together in a frown. “You really think you can take on Harper alone?”

      “Declan, this is my mess. My problem. We’re not exactly on great terms and I don’t need a White Knight to sweep in and fix this.”

      “Honey, you have the wrong brother. There’s nothing White Knight about me. But Harper supports the Brogans, and if he’s after a Null, it means he’ll use you to destroy us.”

      “Is that why you want me? To use me to destroy him?”

      His brief flinch hinted that she’d struck a chord. Declan placed his hands on her shoulders as she was about to step back. “We protect the innocent. We don’t hurt for the fun of it like Harper. You saw what he did to that witch because she wouldn’t join his cause.”

      “I refuse to be the pawn in this game.”

      “It’s not a game and you have no choice. Your magic has made you the most powerful weapon in this damned war. I’ve lost too many people in this fight.” His expression hardened, resentment flickering in eyes coloured with sadness. “You’re in a whole lot of shit, Kate Carrigan, but either way, you’re coming with me.”

      She shrugged off the flash of fear sparked by his statement. “Fine,” she replied in a casual tone. She hoped like hell she’d used enough herbs. “You win, Declan.”

      Right.

       ****

      Declan didn’t reply and blinked in an attempt to clear the fog in his head. Damn, exhaustion had ripped through him like the Road Runner on a mission. Considering he was with a gorgeous woman, albeit a thief, sleep should be the last thing on his mind.

      He must be losing his touch. If Kate couldn’t keep him awake, then not much else would. She was a real beauty, and a tough one at that. With her sheen of dark hair, big brown eyes, slender curves, and the flush of temper that reared in her cheeks when she was angry, Kate was incredible.

      And he was having a hard time reminding himself that he was still mad at her.

      “Where did you get the scroll?” he asked, giving a quick shake of the head.

      “The scroll?”

      “Yes, witchy. You left it behind when you attacked me.”

      “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