Craved

Renee:

The thrill Renee got whenever she sank her trowel into a new patch of ground was almost better than sex. Unless that was sex with her new boss, Damon Cubin. Last night at the bar, she was sure he was going to take her somewhere private and kiss her until she forgot all her inhibitions.

But that had been a far-fetched fantasy. Why would handsome, intelligent Damon want her in any capacity other than professional? He’d shown how much he was into her by ignoring her half the night, after they’d had a tangible connection that charged the air between them, then picking up a random woman he met at the bar. And he brought that other woman here with everyone… moved her into his tent.

Now Renee was faced with reality and if she didn’t get her shit together, her dream job was on the line.

“Hey, hitting the ground early, aren’t you?” one of the guys on the dig asked. His hair was cut military-style and he had deep, brown eyes.

“Someone has to,” she said a little too eagerly, her gaze flicked to Damon’s tent wishing she could make him come out and do his freaking job.

“I hear you.” He sat a few feet away, dragging a stiff brush through the dirt. His tool belt was full of bright, shiny tools. “Got talked into coming from my boyfriend Michael as a bonding experience for us. I’m Gary.”

“Renee.” She glanced around, but only two women milled about as the sun stretched low on the horizon. “So where is he?”

“Sleeping.” He shook his head. “Drank way too much last night. I can drink beer forever and it not faze me. One shot of his fancy, expensive dessert wine and I was on the floor during his sister’s wedding. That didn’t go over too well.”

Renee chuckled. “Sorry. Sounds like it didn’t.”

“Nope, but Michael forgave me.” He winked. “After I promised never to drink anything but beer again.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Sure.” He flashed her a smile. “Relationships are all about compromise.”

Renee nodded and scooped out another bucket load from the archeological site. Her past relationships had gone nowhere. Was it because she was too hard-headed and didn’t bend like Gary had with Michael?

She wiped her brow. Her thoughts shifted back to Damon. His extensive knowledge of ancient Phrygian culture, almost as if he’d experienced it firsthand, drew her to him. Didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous as sin. Not to mention, he was the first archeologist to give her a chance as an assistant; for every other excavation, she amounted to nothing more than a volunteer. This was her chance to work with someone who valued her skills. Further her career and she could go full-time instead of cramming her passion into three short summer months when she wasn’t teaching.

“You look like you know what you’re doing.” Gary motioned with his chin.

“Yeah. Been doing this every summer since I was sixteen.” She dumped more soil in the shifter. “Other than that, I’m teaching.”

“Always wanted to do that.” He put his brush away and took out one of the small trowels. “Me and Michael are boring accountants.”

“Got a card?” she joked. “Might need some help on my taxes.”

“Anytime.” He smiled.

Gary was nice and easy to talk to. Why couldn’t Damon be polite like him? Instead of pushing her away when she’d felt the chemistry between them.

She exhaled, air seeping through her parted lips until her lungs screamed. The breathing exercise did little to take her mind off Damon. Let it go, Renee, he’s not interested.

Sifting through dust and rock was what she craved—the careful, almost artful search to discover a piece of lost history. The tan-colored tent several yards away mocked her, and she gritted her teeth. For God’s sake, she was in Turkey, her dream spot to excavate religious artifacts, not get upset that Damon had brought his girlfriend with him. What did she think? That he was going to be some celibate hunk who would see her and fall instantly in love? She snorted. Dream on, princess.

When he met her and the rest of the team at the airport, he offered them a meal and drinks. His easy-going nature and archeological knowledge enamored her. Not only was he living her dream, but the few pictures she’d scoured online didn’t do him justice. She had to admit, she’d fallen for him, giving in to mild fantasies about him.

Intelligence radiated in his blue eyes, and Renee swore they peered into her soul. That was until the blonde bombshell in a size two dress flounced over to him. Then he showed his true colors by sleeping with the woman. Never mind that Renee would’ve jumped his bones if he’d asked.

That was until she realized what a hard to please boss he was.

Did he hire Renee for the summer because few could tolerate his arrogance and demands? Like how he must be the one to strike ground first and the team had to provide daily reports, rather than the standard semi-weekly. She kept reminding herself: this was for her own future. Didn’t matter Damon’s morals or that he was now doing God knew what in his tent with a woman he just met.

A moan sounded from behind Renee and she glanced over her shoulder. Dressed in yellow, silk pajamas stood a man with tousled dark hair.

“Morning, sunshine.” Gary stood up, dusting off his hands. “Nice talking with you, Renee.”

“Same.”

Gary strode over to Michael, pulling him into a tender hug.

She turned away and swallowed down the lump in her throat. Up until the moment at the bar, she’d thought she and Damon had a chemistry between them. Concentrate on the dig, not on a guy. She didn’t need a man.

She scooted to another area in the grid, closer to the post mold. Damon believed this edge was once part of a goddess-worshipping temple. Last week, the Turkish government approved their expedition outside of Cappadocia, Turkey, and she was ecstatic when she received Damon’s phone call to attend the dig. Now to focus on the archeological side of the job and not worry about her mentor vanishing again.

As the sun brightened the sky, the other team members and volunteers emerged from their tents and began their tasks of making breakfast and setting out the tools for the day. The camp lay in a valley surrounded by sloping cliffs on two sides, a river, and sparse trees on the other. Gorgeous. Geological volcanic towers called Fairy Chimneys rose in the distance and pointed the way to Göreme.

Holes littered the area; Damon must have begun searching for artifacts before the entire team had arrived. When she became a rich and famous archeologist, she wouldn’t create rules just to prove herself a big shot if that was why Damon had done this.

She knelt beside the closest hole. Scholars believed the Phrygians worshiped the Great Mother, and in the mountains, she was called Mountain Mother. Finding proof of a goddess revered together in unity with a god gave Renee hope that perhaps men and women could be equal in all nations and religions.

The idea of God as a woman appealed to her more than a stern old man killing everyone who didn’t agree with him. Exhilaration surged through her at the possibilities. And yet, Damon had not stirred from his tent. Did he care about this dig or not?

Last night, his lantern flickered after everyone, except Renee, went to sleep. Moans drifted from Damon’s tent until late. Who makes love for that long? But she had to admit she’d been envious. Wishing she were the one with him.

A few paces away, several of the other team members talked while Sarah, on cooking duty for the week, warmed a pot of oatmeal over the fire. Renee’s belly grumbled.

“You want coffee or orange juice?” one of the women asked her.

Renee didn’t want to stop to eat or drink. “Nothing, right now, I’m fine.”

“It gets hot here quick.” The woman frowned. “You got water on you at least?”

Renee patted her canteen. “Sure do. Thanks.”

When the woman went to the next volunteer to take their order, Renee leaned over the ground.

Using her flat masonry trowel, she scraped a layer of dirt. Her handpick, looped through her belt, was available if the ground became too hard. Soon, she would shovel the soil she dug up and run it through the sieve before dumping it into the soil heap. First, she ensured no artifacts hid in the dirt. The sieve would take care of small pieces, but she shifted through the pile for anything larger. Nothing.

Renee inched closer to the hole. A sharp stone dug into her knee, and she cursed under her breath as she tossed it. Damn it. She wiped away the drops of blood. Not too deep of a cut. Later, she’d get the first aid kit for a bandage.

She glanced over at Damon’s tent. No movement or sound. Where the hell is he? Still asleep? She would be passed out too if she’d spent all night making love.

Stop it! Concentrate on your work. Perspiration rolled down her spine, and she straightened, pushing her shoulders back for a few seconds to ease the tension.

Kneeling forward again, she thrust the trowel in a little too deep and struck something hard.

Shit! She eased the tool out, then grabbed one of her small brushes and a dental pick. Please don’t be damaged. This is why she shouldn’t have let Damon distract her no matter how handsome he was or how he made her heart pound when she was near him. Her hands shook, and she took a breath to steady herself.

She drilled at the hole with the trowel, then wiped away the debris. Something reflected the light, and her pulse raced. She’d never forgive herself if she broke an artifact. Biting her lower lip, she used a smaller dental pick to widen the hole.

As she fished with her fingers, a smooth slip of a surface hit her fingertips, then a rougher one. Excitement zinged through her. Better than opening presents. She retrieved a toothbrush from her tool belt and slowly swept away the soil and debris. Now the object looked like a piece of jewelry or a gem. Realizing blood remained on her fingers, she rubbed them on her shorts. Careful to avoid any further harm to the object, she tried to ease the piece out.

“Breakfast is ready,” Gary said, startling her, which caused her hand to slip and the trowel clanked against the item.

“Thanks. I’ll get some in a bit.” No time for food. Hopefully, she hadn’t inadvertently cracked the object. Her goal of running her own dig soon would be struck down if she had. Sure, everyone made mistakes, but she’d been careless. Please don’t be damaged.

There were too many people around the excavation for her liking, and half of them didn’t know the first thing about how to handle archeological equipment. Yesterday, Damon told them he sent the resistivity detector for repairs after one of the men dropped it when they set up camp.

Renee’s fingers wiggled the item to extract it. If she could get a bit more leverage… She dug around the item. The piece released with another tug, and she held it in her hand. A rock? Dark quartz with a smooth reflective surface on one side and a chunk of granite embedded in the other. For a moment, her vision darkened as if the stone hypnotized her. Despite blinking rapidly to focus, the tunnel narrowed. Was she passing out? Don’t panic. She took several deep breaths and relaxed as the blackness faded, and finally her vision cleared. What the heck just happened?

Disappointment pierced her heart. Not an artifact at all, but a smoky quartz that had grown out of the granite and would be sent to the midden, the site’s area used for disposal, as trash.

Still, the quartz was pretty enough. She could have it cut out of the rock, polished, and crafted into a necklace. From her experience she knew none of the archeologists, including Damon, would care about a piece of quartz. A wave of nausea cascaded through her. She should eat breakfast. Soon.

Once she thrust the crystal into the pocket of her shorts, she speared the dirt with her trowel, careful not to strike too deep. If anything, the necklace would be a souvenir of her time here in Turkey. Cappadocia, once part of ancient Greece until the Ottoman Turks took over, was a country she loved. How she wished the ancient temples stood in all their glory and weren't heaped in piles of rubble.

Sarah tapped her on the shoulder. “Your oatmeal is getting cold, dear.”

Behind Sarah, the others laughed around the tents at the campsite and a few hiked toward Renee with their tools rattling on their belt loops.

“Thanks.” She accepted her bowl.

“This heat is ruining my skin.” A woman whined to Renee’s left.

Damon and his girlfriend emerged from their tent. Her thin figure contrasted with her enormous breasts, making her look as if she would topple over.

Wish I could pull off wearing short shorts like those, but they’d climb up my butt.

“I hate it here with all this dirt and sand. Let’s go to a hotel or something,” the girlfriend pouted.

Damon, dressed in khaki shorts that showed off his golden, muscled legs didn’t answer as he scanned the dig site.

Renee took out her earbuds from her back pocket, and after stuffing them in her ears, cranked the rock music up. Much better. Nothing was worth hearing Damon’s conversation with his picture-perfect girlfriend.

With her breakfast finished, Renee rose to set the bowl among the others near the cooking fire. Stumbling, she caught herself before she toppled. Did she get up too fast? The dizziness subsided, so she shook off the feeling and after the metal bowl clinked with the others, she returned to her location and bent over her work. Even after two additional full shovels out of the pit, nothing but dirt and more rocks. Not even another crystal.

When a shadow darkened her work area, from her crouched position, she took out her earbuds and glanced up.

“Anything unusual?” Even though Damon’s words were casual, annoyance filled his expression.

Her breath caught. Sure, she thought of male models whenever she saw him, even down to the pouty full lips and stubble on his chin. This time, he looked like a god. Like he would make Michelangelo smash his David sculpture and use Damon instead. She swallowed. His skin appeared to capture the light as if in a photoshoot. Even his eyes… Good God, they were a swirling mix of twilight and indigo. A hallucination?

Have I been in the sun too long? What is wrong with me?

“No nothing yet.” She nearly drew out the quartz weighing guiltily in her pocket. Except, he’d probably laugh at her. “I’ll let you know if I find anything worthwhile.”

“Who gave you permission to dig?” His tone was condescending.

How dare he insinuate she went against protocol! “The holes all round—”

“Didn’t you read your contract? It specifically says nothing is done outside of my approval.” Now he frowned. “Even shovels of dirt after they go through the sieve, I must inspect before anything is added to the soil heap.”

An undulating movement like a heatwave shimmering on a burning road, glided across the ground between them and she blinked several times to clear the image. She couldn’t get sick now or they’d send her packing, afraid she could be contagious and compromise the whole dig. It was probably jetlag or something. She’d be fine after a little rest.

“Renee,” Damon asked, “Are you okay?”

She had to show him that she was fine and not feeling weird. Blowing this opportunity wasn’t an option, and she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her either. “I know. You have rights to break ground first, and you have.”

“Have I?” A breeze lifted the edges of his golden hair. “How do you know I dug these holes and not local treasure hunters?”

“Since you’ve been here a week before us, I assumed you did this.”

His brow furrowed. “Don’t assume again. If you uncover something, anything unusual, bring it to me immediately.” He shook his head. “I thought I could trust your judgment, but perhaps I was mistaken.”

Rather than aiming her trowel at his feet, she stood. Clenching her jaw, she forced the words. “Sorry. You’re in charge. It won’t happen again.” Your holy highness.

Without another word, she stomped off toward her tent, her legs nearly buckling. Travis, balding even though he appeared only to be in his late twenties, blocked her path. How had she not noticed his hair loss before? He was one of the site stewards who watched for looters. A volunteer if she remembered correctly.

Her mouth tasted as if it were filled with sand. Was she getting sick?

“Damon’s under a lot of pressure,” Travis said. “Probably another layer or two before we reach the assemblage.”

Thank goodness he didn’t patronize me by defining an assemblage like the last archeologist I worked with the previous summer. How many times had she told him, ‘I know an assemblage is when a group of artifacts are discovered together’? Each time, the man had blinked hard, then grumbled.

Nodding, she tried to focus as Travis merged between human and something gnome-like, similar to the ones Paracelsus, the Swiss alchemist, drew in the sixteenth century. The same pointy elongated ears, squat body, and white beard stretching to his belly. Geez, I’m losing it!

When her knees wobbled this time, she lost her balance.

“Easy there. Are you okay?” Travis grasped her elbow, steadying her.

Yes, the heat is definitely getting to me. Need to lie down before I fall. Just great if everyone remembers me because I fainted. “I’m fine, low blood sugar or something.”

The oatmeal in her stomach churned. She didn’t bother to explain herself further but stumbled into her tent. The two steps to her cot seemed miles away and beneath her the ground bobbed. Dizzy, she pushed her legs forward. Except they refused to listen to her commands, and she collapsed.

Damon:

The sexual energy Damon fed off his new girlfriend last night had been clouded from too much alcohol and weed in her system to sate him completely—nothing like Belinda’s, his ex-fiancée. A lifetime ago, or at least it felt that way.

Now, the girl sharing his nights gathered her blonde hair up with a hand and fanned her face with the other. “Let’s go back inside your tent. Too bright and hot out here.”

He met her gaze. “I’ll be there in a minute, Melody.”

“It’s Melanie,” she seethed.

With a reluctant sigh, he shook his head. “Right.”

Melanie tugged on the red-cropped top showing off her cleavage. When he glanced at his clipboard, she stomped into the tent. Next time, he needed to be more selective when choosing lovers to join him on these trips. An image of Renee with her nice round figure popped into his mind. No! He couldn’t think about her. Couldn’t give in to his desires to touch and taste her, no matter how tempting. I am far too dangerous.

A new Bugatti Veyron Grand Vitesse with tinted windows zoomed over the dirt trail in the distance, and Damon shielded his eyes with a hand. The car swerved closer and finally stopped a few feet away, kicking up a plume of dust that prickled over his exposed skin. Edginess danced along his skin, and he gritted his teeth recognizing this unwelcome visitor. Clive. What the hell is he doing here?

His cousin embraced his demon heritage. However, rather than love or sex, Clive fed on violence and war, reveling in it. Dressed in a Dolce & Gabbana navy suit and dark Gucci sunglasses, Clive climbed out of the passenger side. A few of the women in camp whistled, but Damon shot them a look and they hurried back to their tasks. Renee, though, muttered to herself and he caught the words dust ball and asshole and couldn’t stop his grin.

As he sauntered toward Damon, the driver’s window lowered and a battered woman, with purple-lined eyes and a cut on her cheek, called out, “Should I leave the motor running, sir?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be back shortly,” he shouted, not glancing her way. “Much harder to beat women into submission nowadays, not like before women’s suffrage. Don’t you agree, cousin?”

Damon narrowed his eyes but refused to turn his back on the slime. And kept him from coming any closer into camp and affecting his people. “What do you want?”

“Why a crystal, as do all incubi.” Clive dusted off the vest and sleeves of his three-piece suit. “I’ve heard a rumor that one might be here in Turkey. And then I discover you’re here too… what are the chances that you’re digging for the crystal too?”

“You don’t require it.” Damon struggled to keep his voice steady. “Not for another sixty years or so.”

“Oh, but I do, since we’ve not had a decent bloody war in ages. Join with me, and we’ll be gods to these mortals.”

“Never.” He curled his hands into fists. Feeding often without restraint, Clive would be the stronger of the two if they fought. Regardless, Damon didn’t flinch. “This is my land—go find somewhere else to poke around—I’ve heard the dessert is a good place to start.” He had to get his cousin as far from here as possible.

“And I came all this way to wish my cousin luck and this is how you treat me? Fine. I consent that this ugly spot is yours for the time being.” Clive bowed slightly, but Damon knew his cousin was too mischievous for such polite showiness. “You’ll need it. Don’t be alarmed if you hear of more suicide bombers—my handiwork.” As if spotting something delicious, he licked his lips. “Though I might stay with you and these tasty mortals you’ve gathered for yourself.”

Damon followed Clive’s line of sight to Renee disappearing into her tent.

A cold sliver of rage cut through Damon, and he shoved Clive back a step. “Go!”

Clive’s sly smile resembled what a great white shark might look like if it grinned. “Come now, we always shared our toys.”

Until Belinda. Even before then, guilt rode Damon every time. “That was before.”

“Right.” Clive tapped his finger to his chin in an irritating rhythm. “What was her name again? Beatrice? Barbara?”

“Belinda.”

“Whatever. You’ve grown too attached to these insignificant humans.” Clive sauntered back to his car but called out over his shoulder, “Come dig with me in a more luxurious location with more staff.”

Damon didn’t answer. Rocks and dirt skidded across the ground toward the dig site as Clive’s sports car vanished out of sight. Clive was a fool.

Cappadocia’s history exhibited more promise of a crystal being there than the hundreds of others he’d dug. Research indicated this was the cradle of civilization. Tens of thousands of years ago, his people’s history taught succubae were once priestesses here. Older than even Dax, the eldest incubus Damon knew.

Instead of heading to his tent and dealing with Melanie, he strolled toward Renee’s. With Clive this close, the bastard might have fed off her even though Damon noticed no colored wavy lines from Clive’s power snaking toward the ground. The ability to allure and draw a female to him could be used from a distance, but he shouldn’t be able to feed on her from this distance. Otherwise, Clive could feed if he touched a woman or entered her dreams. So, Renee should be safe. He should check on her, just in case. She was so damn tempting, he forced himself not to engage with her too much.

“Sir?” Travis, the site steward, shuffled up to him.

Normally, Damon only used humans on his digs, but on this site, the gnome’s skills might help locate the crystal. Unlike the human lawn accessories, gnomes were taller than dwarves were, but shorter than most humans. They lived in the interior of the earth and believed they were the guardians of Earth’s treasures. Any human saw Travis as a young man with dark eyes. Nothing unusual. Though, in truth he was an old, balding man with huge black eyes.

Did Travis have information about the crystal? “Anything yet?” Damon paid twice the fee for the gnome.

“No.” Travis turned back to the cluster of tents, and Damon followed. “But I think Renee is sick.”

Dread coiled in his stomach. Not another one. Shit! I brought Mindy er, Melinda, to curb my appetite. Had he fed on Renee’s energy? “A fever?” Maybe he had less time to locate the crystal than he thought if he siphoned energy he wasn’t conscious of to survive.

The gnome scratched his bald head and paled. “I don’t think so. She looked at me like she saw through my glamour.”

“Impossible.” Come to think of it, when he scolded her about breaking ground before him, she had looked at Damon strangely too, as though she fought between reality and sleepwalking. Her brown eyes blinked unevenly, and her gaze appeared unfocused.

With the back of his hand, Travis mopped the sweat off his forehead. “You told me to let you know about anything weird.”

If anything happened to Renee or any of the other women because of Clive. He tore past Travis.

“Renee?” When she didn’t answer, Damon crept into her tent. “Renee?”

Unmoving, she was face down in the dirt beside her cot. His heart raced as he bent and rolled her over. No, not Renee! He pushed back her dark curly hair, and when she let out a sigh, the tension in him eased. Her skin burned.

He scooped up her limp body and lay her on her cot. Still, she didn’t stir. He glanced around for something to use as a cloth. A heap of clothes was piled on the floor, spilled out of her pack, and resting at the foot of her cot. What is clean? No time. He ripped off his shirt; he’d only worn it for a few hours, and Incubi didn’t sweat. He used her canteen to wet the soft cotton edge, then wiped her forehead.

“Ugh, get off me!” She swatted the cloth away.

“You've got a fever.”

She glared at him, but by the pink of her cheeks and glossy eyes, he doubted she’d remember his attempts to aid her come morning.

“Let me help you.” He placed the canteen near her mouth and tipped it back as he raised her head. “Drink.”

Several times she choked, but he managed to get water down her throat. He alternated giving her sips and dousing his shirt to wipe her face and neck. When he went to lift her shirt and lay the cool cloth against her stomach, she shoved his hands away.

“N-not in this-s lifetime.” Her voice sounded groggy, like a mix between a drunk and someone talking in their sleep.

He chuckled and reluctantly eased her shirt back. “Alright. Did you eat something bad? Something to make you pass out?” Please let the threat be gone, and not me involuntarily feeding on her.

“You’re delusional. I didn’t faint.”

“How do you explain the dust in your hair?” Even though ready for her denial, he hadn’t come here to argue. Was her fainting fever not caused by him? “Regardless, have another drink.”

Suspicion filled her eyes at the damp shirt in his hands. “What’s that?”

“For the fever.”

“Thank you,” she choked. “But I’m fine—just need rest. You can leave now.”

“I will, after your fever breaks.” He pressed the shirt once more to her skin, but soon he wrung it out because the heat of her body warmed it and added more water to cool it.

When Travis poked his head inside, Damon barked, “Bring me the first aid kit.”

A few minutes later, Travis lurched in carrying the supply box. “Will she be okay?”

“I don’t know.” He snatched the kit, irritated that Travis hovered nearby.

After taking out fever medicine, Damon coaxed Renee to drink it with water, but she wouldn’t open her mouth and was barely conscious again. He crushed the pill into a powder and added it to her water. Even though he knew it would be bitter, he made her swallow to help reduce her fever. Then he gave her small sips until the cup of water emptied. When he glanced up to ask Travis for more water, the gnome had already disappeared.

Renee’s teeth chattered, and she shook. Damon pulled up her shirt, and this time she didn’t flinch as he placed his wet T-shirt against her stomach. The cloth heated quickly, and he doused it again and again until the canteen was empty.

Even though the bright pink of her cheeks had lessened, she still burned with fever. The last of the water gone, he whispered to the goddess for a cooling breeze and opened Renee’s tent flaps to allow in the late morning air.

“Is everything okay?” asked a woman, Mary if he remembered correctly, who smelled of wood smoke and cigarettes. “Why is your shirt off?”

“Yes. Renee’s not feeling well, but I’m sure she’ll be fine in a bit.” He sent a sliver of pleasure into her to keep her from questioning further.

She blinked. Then smoothed her hair down. “Renee, huh?”

“Excuse me.” He exited the tent and took a step toward his own to fetch more water.

“I can help.” She shuffled to Renee’s tent.

“No, no. It’s okay, I’m getting her more water.” Even if Renee’s illness wasn’t caused by him or Clive, Damon sought a way to help. Needed to know she was okay.

He sent a thrill of magic to Mary, making her believe what he said, and that nothing was wrong with Renee. “You don’t need to check on her,” he whispered in her mind.

The woman shook her head but wandered away.

When she was gone, he dashed to his tent. At least Melanie wasn’t there to berate him. Frankly, he didn’t care where she was. What if he couldn’t get Renee’s fever lowered? Lava filled his gut as he returned to her with a water bottle and repeated the procedure of giving her water and cooling her skin.

Finally, her chills ceased, and her breathing evened.

When she no longer moaned and thrashed at the cool, wet T-shirt against her skin, he felt her forehead, and then her cheek. Her temperature was warm, but not scalding as before. Reaching into her mind, he debated wiping the memory of him coming into her tent, because she might ask him too many questions about it. Or why he didn’t send one of the other women to help her. He assumed she wouldn’t remember, but he couldn’t take any chances on what she’d recall or not. Still, he erased the last few hours bitterly, all too aware that tampering with memories too often eliminated a piece of the person’s soul.

Even in her sleep, this woman fascinated him. Her dark curls, pale skin—soft and inviting. Her intellect and demeanor made him want to know more about her. And so far, she was proving to be the best shovelbum he’d employed. Before, he never tried to develop a relationship with his lovers. They were only empty lays. Besides their bodies, he’d never encountered a compatible mind and soul. Until Belinda, and it got her killed. His attraction to Renee was too risky, and he must stay away before he fell hard and fast for her.

He left her to sleep. Every hour he checked on her. Not wanting to face Melanie, he meandered through camp. The night was cold and a soft drizzle mirroring his mood fell. Huddled under one of the tent’s awnings stood two figures, and he thought he’d backtrack in order not to have to answer questions.

“How’s Renee?” Gary asked, making Damon stiffen.

The human had shown too much curiosity in Renee during their meal last night. Talking to her and even eliciting some laughs from her that had made Damon long to be the one who made her smile, made her happy. He shook his head.

“She’s fine. Only a headache.” When Gary took a step toward Renee’s tent, Damon blocked him. “She needs rest, not visitors.”

Gary frowned, took a deep breath, but finally nodded and stepped back. The sprinkling rain stopped, and Sarah tossed several pieces of kindling onto the fire, then spotted the men under the tent’s awning.

“Think she’ll eat a bite?” asked Sarah.

“I’ll take her some instant soup I have in my pack,” Damon answered. Would his team show as much concern for him if he had a fever? It can’t be very late. Had time passed quickly while I cared for Renee? As if in answer, the sun dipped low under ginger and rosy clouds despite his thoughts.

Tomorrow morning, he would take Renee’s canteen and refill it at the nearby river. Now exhaustion and a desire to feed coursed through him. At first, he had worried about hurting Melanie, like he did every female since Belinda, but Melanie’s polluted sexual energy brought the taste of bile into his throat.

Even though it would be easy to take from Renee in her condition, he would not endanger her—no matter how tempting. She wasn’t an athlete like Belinda who had died from his power when they made love and he’d gotten careless. He punched his leg at the painful memory that tore at his soul. They’d been careful, but one slip and she was gone. How much Renee would be able to handle was not a question he required an answer to. If he guessed wrong, she’d die.

Spotting Travis in the distance, Damon quickened his pace to the gnome as eagerness zigged through him. “Well?” Obtaining a crystal was everything—his only salvation not to become like Clive.

“Soon.” Travis glanced around nervously. “I’m sure we’ll find it any day now.”

“But you’re certain a crystal is here and not something else you’re detecting?” He grabbed Travis’ shirt. “You assured me you sensed it in the ground at this ancient temple.”

“Yes, yes.” He slid off Damon’s hands. “It is here, but I can’t pinpoint the exact location. The crystal’s vibration leaves a residual haze for over a mile. Unless someone has claimed it.”

Fuck! He couldn’t go much longer on polluted sexual energy or only feeding on a fraction, so he harmed no one. If he didn’t find a crystal, he’d be dead from his slow, forced starvation before the end of summer.