The Darkest Touch

CHAPTER THREE

Isabelle Deveraux needed a boat. Like right now.

Unfortunately, funds were short and she didn’t think she could rent one on her looks alone, though if the situation became desperate, she wasn’t above putting on a short skirt, doing her hair, slapping on some lipstick, and vamping it up for one of the many wealthy yacht owners in the harbor.

Provided she didn’t end up shot, stabbed, or strangled by some rich guy’s wife or-even worse-mistress. No, there had to be another way.

How would Angelique handle a situation like this?

The right way, of course.

Her sweet sister. Even now, she could feel her, that sense of goodness, like the beacon in a lighthouse, showing her the way. Thinking of Angelique was always like feeling a warm blanket pulled over her, protecting her, sheltering her from everything bad.

Everything dark.

She shook it off.

Angelique couldn’t help her.

Not in this, and not anymore. She was on her own.

What she needed was to be out in the water, and by God she was going to get there one way or the other. There was treasure out there just waiting for her. Her entire body tingled in anticipation. If she could, she’d walk off the sandy beach nearby and straight into the sea in order to get to it. It was out there-the find of the century. And it was hers for the taking, if only she could get to it.

Walking into the ocean wasn’t very practical, though.

She turned and faced the little village, scrunching her nose as she tried to think. It was early, the sun barely rising over the top of the hill. Soon it would shine down over the sleepy rows of houses packed tightly together in jagged rows.

Coffee. That’s what she needed. She walked the few steps from the harbor to the café and ordered a cappuccino, then sat at one of the outside tables and pondered her dilemma, hoping for a miracle.

Ha. Miracle. Divine intervention. Fat chance of that happening, considering what she knew about herself. She’d have better luck making a deal with the devil.

“I hear you’re looking for a boat.”

She looked up into the face of a shadowy figure looming over her. Satan himself, perhaps?

Great leaps in logic there, Izzy. “Excuse me?”

The man took a seat across from her and placed his cup of coffee on the table. “You’re looking for a boat.”

American accent. Damn fine-looking, too. Dark hair, smoldering, sexy eyes, chiseled features that looked as though Michelangelo himself had sculpted him. He was perfection, a god in human form. Tanned, muscular, and quite possibly her savior if she could believe what he was saying.

“You have a boat?”

“I do.”

“You want to rent it to me.”

“No, I’m offering you a ride out on it. I hear you’re an archaeologist.”

“Where did you hear that?”

He smiled, showing brilliant white, even teeth which were also perfect. Didn’t this guy have any flaws? “From the twenty or so other boat owners in the harbor who warned me about you.”

She frowned, thinking of all the time she’d wasted going from boat to boat, only to be shooed away as an annoyance, as if she was some beggar asking for a handout. She would have paid for their services. Eventually. “I see. So why did you come looking for me?”

“Because I could use your expertise.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” He couldn’t. She wasn’t using her real name, trying to fly under the radar on this one. She was hoping to avoid Angelique for as long as possible. There were things she couldn’t face yet, her sister being one of them.

“I know you’ve told everyone you’re an archaeologist with an interest in doing a dive out in the sea. That can only mean one thing.”

Curious, she couldn’t help but ask, “And what’s that?”

“You’re looking for Atlantis. More specifically, for the underwater temples.”

“That theory has been scoffed at and disproved a hundred times over.”

He leaned back and crossed his arms. “Which doesn’t mean a damn thing. They’re out there.” He inclined his head to the sea.

“You believe that.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

“Who are you?”

“I suppose that might help.” He held out his hand. “Dalton Gabriel.”

She slipped her hand in his. “Isabelle Smith.”

Dalton arched a brow. “Smith? You couldn’t get more inventive than that?”

“I have a passport and all the appropriate papers to back up the name, Mr. Gabriel. All I need from you is a boat. I’ll pay for your time.”

“It’s Dalton. And I’m looking for more than just payment for gasoline and boat rental, Isabelle.”

Wariness mixed with curiosity. “What are you looking for?”

“A partner. I’m interested in finding the temples, too, but I’m no archaeologist.”

“What are you, then?”

“An investor. I have the money. I lack the skills.”

“I see.” Excitement hit her with a sharp punch, fueling her more than the espresso-laden drink in front of her. This could be beneficial to her cause, if she played her cards right and finessed this job. Providing this guy was on the up-and-up. She tried to keep her voice calm and even as she asked, “And what terms are we talking?”

“I’m putting up the money. I’ll front everything you need to do the dig. If we find anything, I’ll arrange for the permits, deal with any hassles the government may place on retrieving the treasure-should you find it-and I’ll ensure that you-and I, of course-get all the credit.”

“Go on.” She tapped her sandal on the cobblestone ground, resisting the urge to leap across the table and kiss him.

“Which means I have the most to risk. I want seventy-five percent of the take.”

Ouch. Then again, right now she had zero. Still, she sensed Dalton had set that percentage as a starting point to bargain. “Fifty-fifty.”

He laughed, the sound dark and rich, like her favorite chocolate. It rolled deeply within her nerve endings. She shook it off. This was business, not playtime.

“I don’t think so, Isabelle. Like I said, I stand to lose much more than you do.”

He had much to learn. She had played this game a very long time, and usually won. “And without me, you will gain nothing. Unless you have other archaeologists at the ready to indulge your fantastic whim that Atlantis truly existed. That there are treasures to be found within the ocean’s depths that for some reason no one else has found before?”

She waited for him to show her his anger, because she knew damn well he had been searching with no luck just like she had. But all he did was lift his gorgeous full lips in a devastating smile.

“Touché, Ms. Smith. Sixty-forty. And believe me, I’ll walk away and find someone else to play with before I take less.”

Something in his voice-a hard edge, perhaps-told her he meant what he said. She knew when to stop and say good enough. “I’ll take it. You have yourself an archaeologist, Dalton.”

“I’ll want to see your so-called credentials before I lay out a penny, Isabelle.”

She nodded. “I wouldn’t expect less. I’ll also want to see your financials, Dalton, to make sure you’re not some crazy kidnapper who’s going to lure me out on his boat, have his way with me, then drown me at sea.”

He laughed out loud. “I think we’re going to be great partners.”

Allowing herself to relax for the first time in days, Isabelle said, “I hope so. We both have a lot at stake here.”

“Where are you staying?”

She was almost embarrassed when she gave him the name of her hotel. It was the most inexpensive-okay, cheapest-one in town, but she was nearly out of money and she had to conserve wherever she could. Dalton had come along at the right time. By tomorrow she’d have been sleeping on the beach, or, God forbid, calling Angelique. Neither option appealed.

“I’ll have my full portfolio sent over this afternoon. Background and financial information, with all the appropriate numbers available to verify anything you need. Look it over thoroughly, and if it meets with your approval, my boat is here.” He took a notebook from his pocket and jotted something down, then tore off the sheet of paper and handed it to her.

She slid the paper into her shorts. “What about my information?”

“Just bring it along with you when you come. It won’t take long to have you checked out once you arrive.”

She nodded and stood, and so did he.

“I’ll see you by tonight, Isabelle.”

“That sure of yourself?”

“Yes.”

She liked his confidence. “Good-bye, Dalton.”

She turned and walked away, hoping this worked. She needed cash, and fast. She needed this find, or at least to find something.

Wasn’t it time for something positive to happen in her life?

Dalton allowed himself a moment to watch Isabelle walk away, admiring the soft sway of her hips.

He had spotted her two days ago, strolling along the boat dock. A diamond in the rough dressed in sand-colored shorts and a thin tank top, her hair pulled back in a dark gold ponytail. He’d paused for a second when he’d seen her, because she looked a lot like Angelique. Isabelle’s hair was lighter though, and her body was curvier in certain places. Where Angelique was athletic and slender, Isabelle was more. . lush.

A rush of heat had hit him instantly. Same thing happened this morning when he sat down across from her at the café and met her curious eyes. His body had gone haywire just looking at her, and he’d felt that same warmth again.

No, that was wrong. It wasn’t just warmth. It was an inferno. And she’d seemed completely oblivious to it.

An act? Maybe. Then again, maybe not.

Dalton shook his head at his wayward thoughts. Yeah, like he of all people should be thinking in that direction. But who wouldn’t be struck by the beauty of her eyes. A mix of gold and green, swirling, mesmerizing color.

She might be Angelique’s twin, but they weren’t identical. There were differences between them.

He’d been damn lucky to find her. And when she’d left the boat dock, he’d had a casual conversation with some of the boat owners about what she’d wanted. They’d called her some crazy archaeologist looking to hire a boat.

He knew instinctively what she was after. That’s when he’d come up with a plan.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and pressed a button. Lou answered on the first ring.

“You got that portfolio ready?” Dalton asked.

“I gather she took the bait?”

“Hook, line, and sinker. She wants a boat badly.”

“That’s good news. Everything’s in order. All of the records for your fictional corporation, Dalton International, should already be waiting for you on the boat. I had a messenger from the Realm deliver it.”

The Realm of Light, always on the ball as usual. “Thanks.”

“You know what you’re doing, Dalton?”

“I have a pretty good idea. I want to play along with her awhile.”

“Keep her close. We need to see if she has any connection or knowledge of the black diamond or the Sons of Darkness, and if she exhibits any demon behavior. Let me know if you find out anything.”

“What about Angelique?”

“Ryder’s with her. He’s watching over her now.”

“Don’t tell them I’ve found Isabelle. I want to do this on my own for a while, see what kind of situation we have here first before we reunite the sisters.”

Lou was silent for a moment. “Okay. I agree with that. It might work in our favor if Angelique still believes her sister is missing. She might give up the black diamond if she thinks the Realm of Light can help find Isabelle.”

“That’s what I like about you, Lou. You’re devious.”

Lou chuckled. “Not me. I leave that up to all of you.”

“Okay, I’m on it.”

“Work quickly. We don’t have much time.”

“I’ll do that.” Dalton hung up and headed to the boat.

Though that was an understatement. It was nearly as big as a freaking cruise ship, and docked off the harbor. He took the launch off the pier and headed to the yacht, shaking his head as the navigator approached the one-hundred-sixty-foot beauty. He didn’t know how the Realm of Light did it, and had never asked, but whatever any of the demon hunters needed-money, fake identities, props like this ostentatious floating city-one telephone call and within hours it appeared.

He’d been with the Realm for over ten years, and he’d seen money spent like water. They were well funded and he still didn’t know where it came from.

He knew this boat cost millions. Everything was polished to perfection, and there were so many rooms on the damn thing he could easily get lost, which meant he had some serious studying to do before Isabelle showed up. He was supposed to own this yacht. He’d better know it backwards and forwards before she got here.

And she would come. If the portfolio he’d asked Lou to put together contained everything he wanted it to, she’d come running.

Isabelle needed him, more than she could possibly know. Once in her presence, it hadn’t taken him long to read her, to get a sense of what was going on beyond her dire financial situation. There were undercurrents of something that wasn’t quite. . right within her. He didn’t know exactly what, but he knew all about things that weren’t normal.

After all, he wasn’t exactly normal. So he was probably in the best position to figure out who. . or what. . Isabelle Deveraux really was.

“Tase, I must speak with you.”

Tase turned and his brother, Aron, took a couple steps back. Tase kept his expression devoid of the smile that wanted to creep out at Aron’s obvious displeasure with Tase’s heat.

His difference from his brothers had always put him at an advantage-one he never failed to use whenever they were together. It reminded them who was in charge. His heat where the others were cold had always kept him separate from the other Lords. It was his punishment from their father, this heat he must live with instead of their normal icy cold. He had sinned, had transgressed, and Father had punished him, made him burn for it. Instead of bemoaning his fate, he had used it, benefited from it. Now he led with it. It had made him a leader. Father was proud of him for living with his sin, for using it for his own gain.

“Go ahead,” Tase said.

“One of the new recruits has found Angelique.”

“And?”

“The recruit is injured.”

“I don’t care about that. What of Angelique? Did he bring her back? And the black diamond?”

“She didn’t have it at her home. He worked her mind, saw it was not there.”

“I see. Did she reveal where it was? And what of her sister?”

Aron shook his head. “Unfortunately, there was no time. He was interrupted and injured by a demon hunter and the recruit fled.”

“Fucking hell.” Frustration made the flames lick out around Tase. Aron took a couple more steps back.

“He, like all of them, is new at this; he doesn’t quite have his bearings yet. It will take a while for our new ones to understand.”

“I realize that. Still, we had her in our grasp. Why must I be surrounded by idiots?”

“Yes, this new tactic will require much patience on our part.”

Something Tase had had in short supply, ever since their brothers Bart and Ben had botched everything up, allowing their time in the human realm to make them grow soft, emotional. The Sons of Darkness had paid a great price for their brothers’ sins.

They had lost both Bart and Ben. They had lost their chance at converting Ben’s sons Derek and Dominic, half-human and half-demon, who would have made a fine contribution as new members of the Sons of Darkness. Instead, they now fought as demon hunters for the Realm of Light.

What a mess their brothers had made of things.

No more. With Tase at the head of the Lords of the Sons of Darkness now, things would change.

They already had, though not nearly fast enough for him and his remaining brothers.

Catering to humans had been their biggest error.

Using humans-now, that was more like it. Humans could be so easily seduced, their minds and bodies adapted to do the bidding of the dark master. It was only a matter of time, and a bit more experimentation, and there would be many more to fight for the Sons of Darkness. Humans could be given powers to fight, to walk where the Lords could not, to kill, to be the eyes and ears of Tase and his brothers.

And there were so many who wanted what the Sons of Darkness offered. Every day they recruited more.

More to fight against the Realm of Light.

Lou and his demon hunters wouldn’t know what hit them.

Tase finally allowed the smile he’d held back.

“You are pleased about something?” Aron asked.

“I’m seeing the future. For the first time in a long while, it looks exceptionally good for all of us, my brother.”