by Amy Sumida
She laughed at that, the sound blessedly familiar, “You’re telling me. I can hardly believe this. And you don’t want to hurt me?” she asked again.
They looked at each other in confusion. Other than the fact that they had told her numerous times they would never hurt her, Ivory had just described familiars to them. Surely she understood it was practically impossible for familiars to harm a witch – let alone a witch in their own coven; “Ivory, familiars don’t harm witches. We serve them,” he made sure his voice was no nonsense, leaving no room for her uncertainty.
She lowered her head, fingers twisting nervously in her robe, “But I’m not just a witch, am I?”
No, she most definitely was not just a witch. It was an oddity and one he was yearning to learn more about, but it didn’t change the fact that she was still a witch from the Panthera Coven.
“Yeah, we kinda noticed,” Seth chuckled, “You’re a ghost jaguar – a white panther. It may not be normal to most, but we’re hardly in a position to judge given we shapeshift into black jaguars – or panthers if you prefer to call us that.”
She looked up quickly, eyeing them all individually, “You’re all panthers?”
They all nodded, Vaughn adding a; “Yep”.
“Is that why my cat likes you so much? Because we’re all the same species?” she queried.
“Your cat likes us?” The question came from Vaughn.
She nodded, “She wants to roll around in your scent. It’s weird.”
Ronan wanted to shout in joy. Ivory felt the mate-pull – well, her cat did anyway. She didn’t seem to understand what it was though and Ronan knew they had to tread carefully. They were making progress, Ivory no longer looked like she wanted to bolt, but there were still so many unanswered questions on both sides.
“My panther likes your scent too,” Ronan assured her. And then it struck him; no wonder she smelled like all three of them. Her panther belonged to their panthers, which meant she also belonged to them. But why hadn’t his feline friend been clawing at him, trying to get to its mate this entire time? Sure, the instant attraction had been there. But it was nothing like the urge to claim her now. He looked at Seth and Vaughn, and saw that they were also breathing in, nostrils flaring, shifting uncomfortably. They were definitely noticing the increased intensity of Ivory’s scent.
“That glamour of yours must have been super powerful,” Seth pointed out, arriving at the same conclusion Ronan was about to, “My panther didn’t recognise yours, let alone any of us recognising your magical bloodline.”
Ivory nodded, twirling a strand of hair around her finger and drawing all their riveted gazes, “It was. It altered my appearance but also completely dampened my magic, as well as my cat. That was the whole point of it – to hide.”
“But not from your stalker? You’ve had the glamour in place longer than that,” Vaughn stated.
She chewed on her lip, hesitating, and Ronan bit back his frustration. She still didn’t trust them.
“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be difficult,” her voice was small as she looked at him, clearly picking up on his thoughts.
He sighed, now he was the one acting like a dick; “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m sorry too. It’s been a day full of surprises for everyone. I assume your stalker and the fact that you’ve been using a glamour to hide are two different issues?”
She snorted, “Seems that way.”
“We can’t do much about the stalker at the moment, so why don’t you tell us what you’ve been hiding from? Is it hunters?” That was the most logical explanation, “And why do you keep asking us if we’re going to hurt you?”
Chapter Nineteen
Vaughn stood and walked over to the lounge Ivory was seated on. He made sure to keep his movements slow and non-threatening, not wanting to scare her or get her panther’s back up again. Now that she wasn’t poised to knock him on the head with a lamp or run away from them screaming, he was able to control his cat’s dominant nature more. He knew he had been acting like a jerk before, but he couldn’t help it. His panther believed Ivory was theirs and was prowling restlessly in his mind now that he could scent Ivory’s own jaguar. His beast was demanding she acknowledge him – all of them. He needed to be close to her. He seated himself next to her but not within touching distance, receiving a small smile. He released a pent-up breath – so far so good.
“What he said,” he angled his head in Ronan’s direction, referring to his lover’s earlier questions. She looked deeply into his eyes for a moment, and although hers were an entirely different colour now, he could still see his Ivory in them. He stilled, his Ivory? Sure, his panther was very vocal about the whole ‘mate’ thing, but Vaughn was also still a man. When had he started thinking of her as his? The feeling had probably been creeping up on him for days now and culminated last night when they had made love with her. And that is exactly what it had been too – not sex – but lovemaking. It was a wholly unexpected but not unwanted or unpleasant realisation, he acknowledged. They hadn’t been able to bask in the morning-after endorphins or analyse what the evening of pleasure had meant to them all, but he was fairly certain his men were on the same page. He only hoped what Ivory was about to reveal didn’t change his blossoming feelings. There was still a part of him that was suspicious.
“You can trust us,” Seth prompted, when the silence stretched out.
Ivory drew in a deep breath and nodded her head, “My cat seems to think I can. And I … I think so too. So, okay then. No, I’m not hiding from witch hunters. Mum cautioned me about them but I’ve never seen a single one. I used the glamour so nobody would know I was a witch. I’m hiding from the conclave.”
Vaughn was shocked, “You’re hiding from the conclave? What the hell for?”
The conclave was what they called their witching governing body. It was made up of one member from each of the twelve ruling covens – well eleven covens now because the Panthera Coven was believed to be extinct at the worst, and lost at the best. The conclave made laws, kept the peace, settled disputes, anything a normal government would do. They were sometimes annoying and Vaughn didn’t always agree with every decision they made, but that was politicians for you.
“Because of what I am … half familiar,” Ivory let her bombshell fall into the stunned silence of the room.
“Half familiar?” Seth asked.
“Half fucking familiar?” Vaughn asked.
“You’re half familiar. Of course you are. That explains a lot,” was Ronan’s mild response. Vaughn could have punched him. He was always so cool – outwardly anyway.
“Well, technically I’m a quarter familiar. My father was human. My mother was a witch and her father was a witch, but her mother was a familiar. Mum could shift too and at first she wasn’t sure I would be able to because of my human blood. But the ability to shapeshift doesn’t seem to be diluted through the generations. My panther is strong,” Ivory explained in a bit of a rush. It was as if once she started sharing she wanted to get it all out at once.
“Okay. This explains why you have a panther but not why you’re hiding,” Vaughn pointed it. It was extremely rare for a witch and a familiar to have children. It was quite common for them to be lovers but a witch tended to marry and have children with other witches. Although he had heard of cases of mixed breed children, he had never met any.
Ivory looked at him as if it was obvious, “Because I’m not a pureblood. When my grandfather found out his familiar was pregnant with his child, he was threatened by the conclave. They were going to force him to get rid of the baby – they weren’t going to suffer a half breed in the coven’s bloodline. He refused, running away and hiding with my grandmother. She died when my mother was very young, as did my grandfather. But they both instilled the importance of staying hidden from the conclave. They said she would be killed if they found her. She told me the same. We spent our whole lives trying to stay hidden. And then when she died and I ventured out on my own, I knew I needed something mo
re permanent to conceal me. That’s when I used the powerful glamour spell.”
Vaughn looked at Ronan and then Seth. Seth merely shrugged, not having had much to do with the conclave given he had been born into a generation with a missing bloodline. Ronan, on the other hand, looked just as confused as he was if his frown was anything to go by.
“Ivory,” Ronan began, slowly, “that doesn’t sound … accurate.”
Ivory sat up straight, “I assure you it is. Do you really think my grandfather would have taken my grandmother and hidden in the damn wilderness if they weren’t in danger? Or maybe you just think my mother lied to me all my life?” Ivory was getting testy again.
Ronan held up his hands, “I’m not saying that. I just think there may have been some kind of misunderstanding.”
“Say, Ivory. What was your grandfather’s name?” Seth hurriedly jumped in, clearly seeing the displeasure on Ivory’s new flawless face.
She pursed her lips, but answered; “Dale Anthera”
Vaughn jolted hard, jumping up, “That’s not possible! Dale was killed in an accident with the only female familiar in our coven more than …” He trailed off, realisation striking him like a lightning bolt, “He faked his own death?”
Ivory was already nodding, “He didn’t have a choice. He loved her and the baby. He wasn’t going to allow them to be hurt.”
Vaughn paced across the room. He and Ronan had been familiars to Dale, along with Maree. With only the three of them left and Dale the only remaining witch in the Panthera coven, they had shared the duties. He had known the two were lovers but had vastly underestimated their relationship it would seem. He had harboured heavy feelings of guilt for countless years over the death of his charge, had spiralled into a depressed, semi-alcoholic arsehole for almost an entire lifetime and had been pretty much a dick in the one and half lifetimes since. All because he had believed in his own futility; it was useless to be a familiar if you had no witch. But there had been one, Dale … then another, Ivory’s mother … and now Ivory.
Sensing his turmoil, Ivory stood and walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his tense arm, “You knew him.”
He gritted his teeth, afraid to speak in case he was rude again – it wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t even been born yet. But shooting the messenger was always an easy thing to do. Luckily, Ronan spoke up;
“Yes. We knew him. He was our witch, along with Maree. He died under our watch – at least, we thought he did. We believed he was the last surviving witch in the Panthera bloodline. When he was killed, times were … difficult,” he murmured the understatement of the century.
“I’m sorry,” Ivory continued to stroke Vaughn’s arm and he grabbed her hand, grateful for the comfort and the contact. She continued; “He truly believed there was no other choice, he was in fear for his child’s life.”
“I believe that you believe that. But I still don’t think it’s right. The conclave doesn’t go around killing babies,” he couldn’t fathom why Dale would even think such a thing.
Ivory frowned and removed her hand. His panther snarled in his mind, wanting her touch back;“I can’t tell you anything else. As I said, he was dead before I was even born. I’m just repeating what my mother told me.”
“We’ll go to the conclave – get this all sorted out,” Ronan’s voice was low and probably supposed to be soothing.
“What? No!” Ivory shouted, “Have you not been listening? I’m part familiar, part witch. They’ll kill me!”
Seth was up and wrapping strong arms around her now. She allowed it but remained stiff, “We would never let them hurt you. Besides, I think Ronan and Vaughn are right. Something doesn’t add up. Maybe there was some kind of miscommunication or something.”
She snorted, “Pretty fucking big miscommunication.”
“It would be, yes,” Ronan agreed, “Give us some time to ponder this and look into it. If the time comes we feel we need to go to the conclave directly, we’ll discuss it with you first. I promise.”
Ronan was such a good little diplomat, Vaughn thought. It was one of the reasons he always liked dirtying the man up. Looking at Ivory, he could see the indecision warring on her face. He couldn’t reconcile her fear of the conclave with his own experiences, but he couldn’t argue that it was genuine on her end. Trusting them with her biggest secret must be incredibly difficult for her. She was chewing on those fuller, poutier lips of hers and Vaughn wanted to be finished with the talking and get back to the screwing. He didn’t think that was likely to be happening anytime soon and he let out a deflated sigh.
Ivory glanced at him, then Ronan, looking up at Seth before finally stepping out of his arms, “You’re all familiars charged with serving my bloodline, aren’t you? If you were my grandfather’s familiars, then you must be … mine … right?”
Seth smiled, “That’s right. Ivory, you can’t possibly understand what kind of a miracle you are. Everyone believes the Panthera bloodline is extinct. But here you are.”
“Here I am,” she repeated, dully, “I guess that explains why I felt an immediate attraction to all of you. With my glamour down, it’s so obvious that my magic recognises you. But I suppose I must have felt it on a sub-conscious level.”
“That’s not why. Don’t reduce our attraction to magic. It’s natural – couldn’t be more natural. You’re our mate,” Vaughn was quick to defend the intimacy of their attraction.
“I’m your what now?” she looked startled – and not altogether pleased.
“Mate,” he spat out again, “It means –”
“I know what a mate is – I watch Animal Kingdom,” her pissy tone was a match for his, “Your panther’s think I’m their mate?” she questioned again, eyeing them all warily.
“Mine doesn’t just think it – he knows it. Listen to your animal, what’s it telling you?” Vaughn urged – trying to reign in his impatience.
Ivory tilted her head, her hair shimmering like water in the light as it fell over her shoulder. She extended a claw on her pointer finger, tapping it against her knee, “Right now, mine is telling me to slice your balls off for acting like a jerk.”
The confrontational tone had Vaughn’s pupils slitting vertically for a second as a lecherous grin tilted his lips. Vaughn’s cat thrived on confrontation – it was all foreplay to him.
“Ivory, our panthers noticed your unique scent when we first met you; it’s a combination of all three of us. Fresh earth, thunderstorms, and vanilla. With your glamour dulling your magic and your animal, it was the only clue we noticed. But we must have recognised it on some level. I mean, it explains why we are all so outrageously captivated with each other,” Ronan explained in a reasonable tone.
But it seemed Ivory wasn’t interested in being reasonable if her narrowed eyes and stubborn jawline was anything to go by, “You’re saying the only reason we’re attracted to each other is because of some ridiculous animal instinct? Don’t you see how insulting that is?”
“What? No, I mean yes … sort of,” Ronan blabbered, shaking his head, “Why is it insulting?”
“You’re kidding, right? You basically just admitted you were acting on some primal predisposition rather than any kind of actual like for me. If our panthers didn’t want each other, you wouldn’t have even looked twice at me.”
“Well, our panthers do want you. You’re our mate. That makes us yours,” Vaughn felt the childish urge to poke out his tongue and say; ‘so there!’.
“Well, maybe I don’t want you to be mine,” Ivory crossed her arms over her chest causing her breasts to plump and reveal a tantalising view of her cleavage. His cat purred in the back of his mind. Damn cat didn’t know what was good for it. They were getting an arse-chewing from the woman and the stupid beast was still purring in ecstasy.
“That’s not what you said last night,” he threw back, with no small amount of smugness.
Ivory narrowed her eyes dangerously once again and Ronan shook his head, “Vaughn … really not helping, br
other.”
“Ivory. That’s enough now. You’re being difficult, twisting our words, and turning something miraculous into something cheap,” Seth’s voice was low and stern – not something the happy-go-lucky man usually projected. He must be losing his patience as well, “The fact that someone on this planet is the perfect match chemically, emotionally, spiritually – and everything in between – is a blessing. It’s not a curse. How many people do you think are given such a gift?”
Ivory opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, before slumping back and covering her face with her hands, “You’re right. I’m being a total bitch,” she peeked between her fingers, violet irises shining bright, “I’m sorry. I just …”
“It’s okay. I think all our nerves are fried,” Seth rubbed her knee.
She dropped her hands, sighing and offering a weak smile, “Yeah. I’m going to go get dressed and then head downstairs for a while – alone.”
“What? Ivory, we –” He began.
“Please, just give me some space. I need to think – to process,” her eyes beseeched him to understand.
He looked to the others, knowing he didn’t want her out of his sight for a second but also knowing that some time apart was probably a good thing. Tensions were high and everyone was getting frustrated. Better to have a time-out before anyone said or did anything they would regret; “Fair enough. But you can’t go anywhere alone, remember? Nothing has changed. Someone still has their sights set on you,” he reminded her.
“I know. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’ll just go down to the bar – work on something mindless like the inventory. I promise.”
She ran a hand through her hair, the satiny strands catching the light and giving them an almost silver glow. He found himself completely entranced by the movement, but it also brought her appearance to the forefront; “There’s one other thing – your glamour. Can you redo it? Otherwise, your employees are going to get a bit of a shock.”