Jericho Read online

  Nothing moved. Complete silence told the cabin was abandoned. Highly skilled warriors they were masters of the hunt using scent and instincts. Neither sensed any life form inside or outside nor any sign of who or what had summoned Jericho.

  An old fridge tilted on its side sat wedged into the far corner. Upside down and pushed up against the fridge, an ugly green sofa blocked the front door.

  Impatient and eager to be gone, Jericho hissed with frustration. Like a beacon, his ass and his team's was flapping in the fucking wind – this wild card move wasn't like him at all. He’d set in place rules for his team to ensure shit like this never happened. No one was allowed to go off on any recon without discussion and planning. “Talk to me.”

  Reno shrugged. “Seems peaceful. Smells fresh and it’s fucking soothing.”

  “Yeah, I’m feeling it.” Strangely only now did Jericho notice that the urge, drive, and control of the summons was completely gone. Mystified, he shrugged, broad shoulders rippling with hard muscle as he wondered if he was in the right place.

  From under the collapsed wall came a gasp, then a sputter and finally a painful groan. A dainty foot poked out with candy apple red toenails, nudging Reno’s shit-kicker.

  Hunched over, hands fisted into weapons at his side, Reno got a faint waft of human scent and backed off.

  Jericho moved into action – bending his knees and bracing his massive thighs, shoulders one hard line. Arm muscles bulging, he easily lifted several hundred pounds of wall. Jinn’s were normally strong, but as King his strength was greater than most. He surprised himself using that title. A title he hated. A title he forbid his inner circle to use. “Brace it."

  Reno leaned in with his shoulder and one powerful arm, knees locked to take the weight, hefting the old wall high as Jericho dragged a body from underneath. It was hard to miss the absolute fucking wonder that lit the boss' face.

  As soon as Jericho's fingers brushed the female’s silky creamy skin, gentle energy currents arced through his hand, ran up his arm and spread across his chest – bathing him in warmth. Not invasive or tainted with corruption or evil – none that he sensed – it was just pure raw energy.

  Amazing powerful energy.

  A short sharp whistle signaled Zulu, Caleb and Conn were on alert and surrounding the cabin. On point – tension was high.

  In the boonies with King of the Jinn and a narrow two lane highway their only exit point was a sure fucking trap if anyone was hunting them. Jericho's elite team had Intel there were a few who would take their King out if given half a chance. Jericho was not only powerful, but also a race rights crusader and many of his peers didn't often agree with his opinions.

  Each to a male, Jericho’s elite team had sworn to lay down their lives for their King. Honor and justice were bred into these warriors and Jericho was a highly respected leader with a solid reputation for fairness, but he ruled with an iron fist. Protection for his people was always top priority. As their King it never failed that his actions always spoke louder than words ever could.

  Inside the cabin, Jericho hunched down, turning over the small bundle. Long blond curls splayed over his size fourteen shit-kickers. Brushing hair off her face, a blast of energy sparked – flashing through his entire body – only hotter this time, his palm red hot.

  In no way did her raw power hurt him, but swaddled him in comfort instead, easing his cares and worries.

  Huh?

  Little more than a slip of a female, she was definitely petite and fragile. Her translucent creamy skin was blue veined telling she'd been out cold for a while.

  Was it her? Had she summoned him?

  Reno watched Jericho bent over the female, checking her for injuries with his face still fucking lit up and almost glowing now. "She okay?"

  Jericho growled making Reno wince. It wasn't often the boss got pissy, but whatever was going on with this female, she was having a powerful effect on the boss. Too powerful to Reno's way of thinking. He was edgy and out of sorts, yet he sensed no threat and it didn't feel like a trap, but he wanted out and fast.

  Jericho took a moment to study her, his deep blue eyes roaming, needing to discover every inch of her at once. She was lush and curvy, had a sweet ass with a full rack – which he preferred – and nice broad hips for gripping while he fucked her.

  Where did that come from?

  WTF?

  He ignored his own questions, continuing to note her shapely long legs – revealed through slashes in her jeans – were slim and ran all the way up to her tiny waist.

  Almost uncontrollably, he wanted to lick every inch of her and then start all over. Heat rose as his shaft hardened so fast it was intensely painful but also pleasurable.

  What was she doing to him? How could this slip of what smelled of human female have summoned him?

  Him.

  He didn't believe it for a minute. Too jaded, he'd fought all his life and killed many and nothing was ever what it seemed on the surface. For a few brief seconds, he closed himself off, searching for any magic or other crap going on under the wire. Jericho was a powerful Jinn and what came back to him was the same gentle, soothing and peaceful rhythm of energy.

  Still, out of the entire universe – it was only him who heard her compelling summons?

  Attention drifting to her heart shaped face – he traced the high line of her cheekbones, the faint laugh lines around her sweet cherry red lips and her deep set eyes – all telling only half the story of her beauty. He smiled briefly – her pert nose, turned ever so slightly at the end – a delightful addition.

  Her creamy soft skin begged for his touch. Fingers itching, he gave in and brushed the back of his hand along her jaw line as raw energy arced between them again – he didn’t pull back – but it burned a pathway through him.

  His world warped, reshaping and forming anew.

  For the briefest moment in time, it threw Jericho off balance.

  Instincts kicked in as he sensed this incredible female...had summoned him here.

  It boggled his mind the power she wielded. Her draw had consumed him – no denying it took him over, driving him to find this place and her.

  An incredibly powerful being, whoever she was. Able to block everyone from her mind – even while unconscious – an impressive skill. Especially since almost all Jinn held the power to read minds. In addition, she disguised her presence within the elements so as to be virtually invisible to not only the eye but also powerful senses. Truly incredible.

  Jericho stood to check on his team surrounding the cabin and blinked a couple of times – everything was brighter, more colorful and defined. Way more vibrant than normal. He shook his head, shiny black hair thrashing his hard features. It was a shock as rarely did he ever notice colors for one, yet the world around him exploded with the whole spectrum and second it seemed a much softer, gentler world too.

  Surreal.

  In the extreme.

  Certainly not his usual take by far as there was no soft and gentle or soothing and pleasant in his fucking world. It was straightforward: kill or be killed.

  With care, he scooped her into his arms, bracing her cheek against one broad shoulder. Whipcords of electricity arced through his body before finally settling into a peaceful hum and disappearing altogether.

  Fuck this female held enormous power, yet it floated freely.

  Untamed.

  Dangerous shit that.

  Nose brushing the top of her head, the scent of honey, lemons and rain spread over him. In his heart, he knew he answered her summons – and he relied on his instincts. Always on point, he didn't deny it could be a trap and they needed to get out of here now.

  Jericho tucked away a few stray strands of long blonde curls covering her face – thunderstruck he realized he wasn't letting her go. It was too dangerous to take her to a human hospital not knowing what or who she was. No, without considering or having any reasonable basis to his thoughts – he decided she was coming home.

  With him.
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  Uneasily, he admitted it was difficult to think about leaving her. She was safe with him and she needed help. That eased him a little and committed him to a firm and undeniable decision. “Let’s move. She's coming with me.”

  “Uh sure. Good idea boss, we'll contain her and figure out who she is."

  Jericho shook his head. “Home. With. Me.” With a nasty bump on the back of her head, he held her high in his arms so as not to jostle her as he made his way to the SUV.

  Bug-eyed, Reno only nodded. Sure as shit Jericho went through females like water – one after another until they were faceless and nameless. Never mind bringing any of them home. Why this one? "Talk to me, my man."

  "Get us back to the compound." Jericho swung into the back seat as Zulu closed the door.

  Conn and Cal stared at him through the window as they spoke quietly.

  Jericho had no fucking idea what was going on – but one thing was really, really clear to him – for now he had to be near this female. She centered him, gave him peace he hadn't felt in a thousand years or more.

  Reno climbed into the driver's seat, clicking on his seat belt and settling in. "Boss? You sure about this?"

  Jericho never took his intense blue gaze off her. The only answer he gave Reno was a long, low growl.

  CHAPTER 3

  She woke and not from the usual jackhammering at the back of her head or the gnawing bone deep ache of every muscle in her body – it was the silence. There was no soothing rich baritone from the mysterious male who had spoken to her as she floated in and out of a painful fog. The silence smothered her and made her feel as if only she existed in this little slice of emptiness.

  Ten minutes later she freaked out. She had absolutely no idea who she was or where she was either. She racked her brain for her name as frightened eyes swept over the room, but nothing was recognizable and she couldn't recall her name. What had happened? Why couldn't she remember? Was she still in one of those crazy dreams she'd been having?

  Slowly rolling and shifting, she sat on the side of the enormous bed, a thudding headache roaring to life. Acid bit at the back of her throat as her stomach loudly grumbled and rumbled. Her bare feet brushed the cold stone floor and grounded her. Focused on breathing in and out, her vision was screwy as the room canted this way and that, but she held still waiting for it and the nausea to stop.

  The sterile bedroom had stark white walls against all black furnishings – even the bed sheets – all creating an unwelcoming aura. Not an ounce of life popped in the large room nor was there any cozy corner. The fireplace at the end of the bed stood empty with two black leather wing-backed chairs on either side.

  More frightened than ever, she didn’t want to admit she had no memory of ever seeing or being in this cold stark room.

  A shiver crept over her shoulders, she was sure even with a fire lit the room could never be warm and inviting. It was an eerie, lonely space filled with old ghosts she had no wish to know. Morbid thoughts shoved aside, she made for what she hoped was the bathroom.

  Totally avoiding the big mirror over a double sink, she perched on the side of the large marble tub, head pounding, stomach heaving and spots dancing in front of her eyes. Steam built up quickly and billowed around the room. The intense heat eased her aching sore muscles.

  It felt like she'd been hit by a truck – face first.

  Gently probing the back of her head, the large lump was tender and sore. It scared the hell out of her that she didn't know what happened. A sour stench of sweat and vomit rose up to greet her as she glanced down at the extra big black t-shirt she wore.

  Underneath – commando.

  Who had undressed her?

  Prickles of fear stabbing her – the throbbing headache getting worse – she squinted her eyes and tried to remember. The last memory was waking up briefly in this bedroom. She recalled it clearly as the black and white decor seemed like a sort of shadow world. Strangely, she hadn't been afraid.

  Very clearly she recalled the constant sound of a male’s rich voice, low and mesmerizing, easing her pain and lulling her back to sleep and more crazy dreams. Before that, she recalled vague and fleeting shadows – riding in a vehicle, warm and safe next to a hot, hard body. Who was that? Was it someone she knew? She hadn't been afraid then either.

  As for any other memories – that was it.

  Nothing else but a big black hole where her life should be.

  She deflated then and like a balloon let out a huge whoosh of air. Did she have parents? Brothers and sisters? Was anyone looking for her? Was this place home?

  Hobbling to the bathroom door, she locked it. Body aching, she stepped under the hot spray and sat on a wide ledge – headache so bad she might pass out. With great care, she soaped and rinsed, only lightly washing her hair, avoiding the big bump completely.

  Whatever she had run into to get a bump the size of an egg at the back of her head had also stolen her memories. Her life, her name – everything.

  Refreshed but shaking badly, her legs turned to jelly and she sat heavily on the side of the tub to quickly dry off. The sour stench from her discarded black t-shirt made her gag.

  No way in hell was she putting it back on.

  Finally, she looked in the mirror. Each cheek had uneven blotchy bruises and both eyes were slightly swollen – but a deep purple streak below her left eye told the bruising would only get worse before it got better. Gently, she lifted her wet hair into a big knot on top of her head. It was long enough, but best of all it completely tamed her wild and unruly curls.

  Uncaring it was a serious invasion of privacy, she pawed through a tall dresser inside a big walk-in closet, finding another huge black t-shirt and a pair of old workout shorts with a drawstring waist. Whoever they belonged to was a very big male.

  Once dressed she was swamped in black – her curves disappearing with the only hint she was female her candy apple red toes.

  She didn’t bother looking for shoes. Shoes weren’t an option. She loved shoes, but wearing them was another matter. How did she know that? Was her memory coming back?

  A sprig of hope flared.

  Stomach growling and rumbling loudly, she needed a cup of tea and something to eat in that order. Who lived here? Maybe they knew who she was. It was terrifying not to know.

  Slowly, she made her way down a long hall with bedrooms on either side to the top of a grand staircase. Below, the first floor lay open.

  Vaulted ceilings with rough-cut wooden beams created a soaring space. A massive TV, the focal point of the room, was surrounded by deep couches and a number of big comfy chairs.

  At her left sat a pool table with a long bar complimenting one end. To her right a fireplace big enough to fit a horse into with seating nestled around it. Not an ounce of color popped in the enormous vaulted room – it was all beiges and browns and even more drab shades of – god forbid – olive green.

  It was daunting to stay on her feet and make it down the stairs without taking a tumble. At the bottom her legs turned to jelly again so she settled on the last step, breathing deeply while trying to calm the nauseating drum beat at the back of her head.

  Complete silence sat over the big room, stillness filling the open spaces.

  Was she alone in the house?

  Is this where she lived? Why didn’t she recognize anything?

  Where was everyone?

  Unsteady and shaking, she moved slowly towards an archway beyond the pool table that led into a long dining room, a wall of windows the focal point with a heavy wooden table and a dozen chairs. Past that was a bright and airy kitchen with a sleek brushed steel fridge and matching stove complimented by black veined marble countertops.

  Tea and food! In a rush, she bounded in not bothering to look around, but making a beeline for the stove. Badly shaking, she took a couple of deep breaths before digging out a small pot from the bottom of the stove, filling it with water and setting it to boil. Her energy almost gone, she clattered about opening cupboards, bu
t found no tea – none. Impatiently, she swung around too fast and winced when her head pounded harder only to let out a startled gasp as she met dead eyes.

  Stone cold killer eyes.

  Eyes that sent an unmistakeable message: Get the fuck away from me.

  Seated on the far side of the kitchen island sat a huge male who didn’t blink or move as his hard hazel eyes – without a spark of life – drilled right through her.

  She had a creepy feeling it wasn't her he was seeing. Was she fearless? Why wasn't she panicking and running away – fleeing to a hidey-hole somewhere?

  The pounding at the back of her head got worse and she swayed a little, leaning heavily on the counter. She had nowhere to go except back to that cold sterile bedroom and if she didn’t get something in her stomach she was going to pass out. Then she would be on the kitchen floor and still have no tea or food.

  She needed help so she stared right back at him. Oddly unafraid, but certainly intimidated by him, she refused to give up so easily.

  This frightening male was certainly all M&M: Menace and Mayhem. Hideous marks and scars covering his upper body proved it. A sickening sight when she realized he had scars on top of scars.

  Compassion choked her, but she didn't feel any pity for him. He was a survivor – had lived through whatever the world threw at him.

  She stood in the same ranks because the world was certainly throwing shit her way. Was she a survivor? Would she make it too?

  Too tired, banged up and sweaty with her stomach heaving painfully, she didn’t care how M&M he was, what he looked like or who he was. She just needed a little help.

  Ignoring everything and still unafraid, she tentatively smiled. “Hi. Tea bags? Do you have any tea bags?” It was too much effort to hide her shaking voice as she rushed on, “I make good tea. I can make you one too.”

  Hard empty eyes stared at her for long moments. Voice heavy, his words came out strangled as if it were difficult for him to speak. "Cupboard next to the fridge."

  He definitely gave her the creeps as goose bumps climbed up both arms and crawled across her shoulders. Was she alone with him? He was way past frightening with long wild brown hair that hadn’t seen a comb in forever. She wanted to run – get away from him – but refused to give in to her fears or give up on her mission – tea and food.