by Anne Marsh
For a moment, the shifter’s head swung in their direction. Scenting the air, he growled low and deep in his throat, but then returned his attention to the woman standing before him. “Mate,” he growled. And, “Mine.” His body flowed with a liquid grace that promised he’d be a deadly opponent in any contest of martial arts or weaponry. He wore loose, dark pants and a longsword in a scabbard across his back. Nothing else but the almost tangible aura of a terrifying power leashed. Miu had seen the claws—and couldn’t believe the woman still stood there.
“We should rescue her.” Her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears. Desperate. She didn’t know the woman out there, she reminded herself. Jumping into the middle of that scene was foolish. It was impossibly stupid. And the odds of her being able to change the outcome were very small indeed.
“He’ll woo her,” the dark voice behind her promised, and she wanted to turn around and scream at him that nothing could prepare a woman for seven feet of leonine power being loosed on her body.
She’d seen sex acts. Hell, she’d had sex, as unsatisfying as it might have been. But she couldn’t even begin to imagine what would happen between the enormous shifter and the delicate woman he’d claimed as his mate. Helplessly, she stared at the erotic tableau.
“He’ll be careful,” the dark voice promised. Was Jafar aroused? She felt for the seams of the door and wondered if the Cat outside would be too occupied to notice if she tried to sneak away. Were two mates forbidden—or encouraged?
Outside, the Guardian backed the female against the wall, inserting his large body between her and the branching tunnel.
“He protects her,” Jafar whispered. “His body between hers and danger.” She wanted to argue that the only danger was from the Guardian himself. “No one gets to her when he is there.”
The Guardian in the corridor lifted his companion’s leg and placed it around his waist. The woman’s eyes glittered with dark, dazed interest. She doesn’t mind, Miu realized. Not now. White silk fell back, exposing the smooth expanse of pale skin. With this newest discovery, the Guardian growled low in his throat, burying his face in handfuls of hair. His hand moved between their bodies, his fingers rubbing the shy sex through the raw silk of the robe. The pair’s breath came in harsh gasps torn from their chests. When her head fell back against the wall, exposing the long pale column of her throat, the man groaned. His dark eyes dropped, fixing on the shadow of her sex where his fingers played.
Scooping his female up into his arms with a dark groan, he cradled her with curious possessiveness. There was a flash of gold in the glow of the flarestick.
The man in the tunnel held a pair of small golden bells.
***
Regret was not an emotion with which Jafar was familiar.
And yet—his companion feared the Cats and he was regretful. As a Guardian, he’d had centuries to accustom himself to the wariness and fear that mortals inevitably felt in his company.
The stink of fear had permeated the public reception halls this morning and he knew that his fellow Guardians would carefully cull the truly fearful from the merely nervous. The women who were really frightened would be discreetly herded toward a separate section of the temple to scramble about until miraculously “discovering” the passageway that led to the surface and freedom. Each would be handsomely rewarded and leave thinking she had had a lucky escape from the harsh demands of the Cats.
Luck had nothing to do with it.
His Miu had chosen poorly when she’d challenged the Amun Ra. Instead of letting her leave with the other women who had no desire to become Guardian mates, he’d invited her to run deeper into the temple. Either a Guardian would catch her and mate her, or she’d reveal her true motive for joining the Hunt.
Already she’d made it all too clear to Jafar that her motive was theft, but what was she after? And who was this master she’d mentioned? The little femi had information he wanted.
And now he wanted her as well.
It was just sex, he told himself, the usual eroticism of the Hunt and knowing that, if he wanted to, he could chase this female and no one would stop him. She couldn’t stop him. Hell, he’d make sure she didn’t want to stop him. Hot fantasy bloomed in his mind: his feet pounding in a silent rhythm against the floor, mimicking the earthy pulse of his cock until he swung his larger frame against hers. Pinned her between his cock and the wall. All that sweet, creamy flesh for him to coax and touch.
If he wanted to.
Which he did.
Hell, had Amun Ra realized this was a possibility?
Jafar wouldn’t put it past that bastard to have thrown the two of them together just to test his Guardian’s resolve. Jafar couldn’t give in. Never mind that all he could think about was that luscious body of hers, and all the erotic possibilities of being alone in the dark with her. He was in control. Not her. Not Amun Ra.
Still, in the soft darkness of the room, he couldn’t help noticing the scent of feminine arousal that teased his senses. He realized with sensual satisfaction that his Miu was not only a thief—she was also a voyeur.
He was enough of a Cat to take advantage of that fact.
Deliberately, he pressed his body against hers, trapping her against the slim crack where the stone slab had failed to close completely. He smiled ruthlessly. His kind loved the dark, the almost tangible feeling of the lack of light as the still air caressed his body like a lover’s touch. Without sight, the other senses were magnified. He could feel the smooth glide of Miu’s silk robe against his own skin. Smell the faint, sweet scent of her skin and the warmer musk of her sex. She was still wet from their earlier embrace.
Graphic images flooded his mind at the thought. The sweet tease of her creaming sex. Yes, he wanted to chase her. Take her. Mate with her. He wanted to hunt her, mark her body as his.
With a groan, he shoved himself away from the delicious heat of her body. Outside, the Guardian disappeared down a side tunnel, still carrying his new mate in his arms. Lucky bastard.
***
When the heavy male body pinning hers to the door abruptly lifted, Miu didn’t know whether to be grateful—or disappointed. Liquid heat pooled in her belly and lower, making her want to arch into his heavy touch like a cat in heat.
Primal.
Unfettered.
His next question cut through the sensual haze fogging her mind. “Still not worried about the Guardians?”
“Should I be scared?” Rule number two: never admit your fear.
“Oh, I’d be worried,” he said in that slow, honey smooth drawl. “Did you take a long look at the male out there? Ever imagined a lover who could shift on you, so you don’t know if the beast pinning you to the wall is man or Cat?”
His eyes bored down into hers. As if her answer mattered to him—which had to be a trick of the light. He couldn’t care whether or not she’d be willing to romp with a Guardian in bed—could he? Besides, she didn’t have an answer for him.
So she countered his question with one of her own. “Have you seen them before?”
“Many times.”
Her brows shot up at his words. Was that possible? Had the man taken up residence in the catacombs?
They were wasting time. She had a necklace to steal, a sister to ransom. “Get a move on,” she ordered. She needed to locate the necklace well before sunrise; otherwise she’d have to wait until darkness fell and the moons rose again to pick her way to the surface.
“Fine.” He smiled over his shoulder. A slow, sexy smile. “Tell me which way you want to go.”
***
His female smelled of cream. A sweet, honey musk that was going to light up the damn tunnels like a mazhyk beacon and call down the Guardians on them.
“Eyes on me, merck.” His female paused in the doorway and then stalked toward him. He eyed the very feminine curves headed his way and didn’t protest when she dug into her pack for a sheet of papyrus that she spread before him. “Here.” Her finger stabbed downward on the map. “This is where we are. An
d here”—she dragged her finger several inches down and to the right—“is where I need to be. The catacombs. So we go this way.” Her finger traced a tidy set of right angles over the surface of the parchment.
He silently ground his teeth.
This map of his temple was downright infuriating: now he not only had a thief to deal with, but a serious information leak on his hands as well. Not to mention what was fast becoming an overwhelming sexual attraction to the same thief. His feline senses told him she was just as attracted to him—and yet he’d have to take her to Amun Ra later on, after she’d led him to whatever object it was that she wanted from his catacombs.
Because that was his duty.
For the first time, he found himself disliking what he was going to have to do to protect the temple. Perhaps he could wait a little longer since he didn’t know precisely what it was she’d come for—he needed that information, as well as the name of Miu’s boss. Sure, he could put off her punishment for now.
But how long could he delay?
He rubbed an impatient hand over his bare cheekbones. He knew his brother Guardians. They’d have picked up the scent of his female and they’d follow. Some because they had a feline curiosity that only information could scratch. Others because she was a female—and it was the Hunt. There was nothing like the promise of hot sex and a new mate to motivate his pride brothers.
Somehow, Jafar needed to win her trust, so she would tell him what she was after and who’d sent her. Sure, he could shift now and have her pinned against the wall in seconds—his Cat growled with satisfaction at that mental image—but all that lovely, illicit knowledge she had tucked away in her head? Well, he’d bet she wouldn’t be sharing that with him. He’d have the thief, but not the mastermind behind the theft.
“No more hanky-panky.” She eyed him balefully, as delightfully pouty as a cat shut out of a room. “No touching. No kissing.”
A feline smile curled his lips. “If you insist, my femi,” he said. “It’s entirely up to you.”
“What’s up to me?” She bent down and scooped up her battered leather holdall, dropping the strap over her head. The worn leather settled between her breasts like a lover’s hand, separating the two mounds.
Great. He was jealous of a bag.
“Whether or not I touch you. I know you want me to. I can smell your desire,” he said, deliberately ignoring her furious blush. “Sweet. Smoky.”
“Too much information, merck,” she muttered. She scrubbed at her cheeks, leaving a streak of dust behind. “I don’t stink.”
But she did smell sweetly of her arousal, a feminine perfume that he could never mistake. His cock throbbed, making demands.
“Think unsexy thoughts,” he suggested cheerfully. “The Cats—they can smell feminine arousal from hundreds of yards away. All that delicate musk—I don’t think you bothered with undergarments today, my femi.” From the angry blush that crawled up her cheeks, he figured he was right.
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him.
“Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that a bunch of tomb guards are going to be able to smell—” she hesitated, clearly unwilling to supply the word, so he supplied it for her.
“You.”
“I don’t think so,” she ground out. “I had my bath today, merck. No worries on that score.”
“Got excellent noses,” he said cheerfully. And then, “Let’s get going.” He started off down the passage she’d indicated.
“No.” She pushed past him in the passageway. “I lead.”
Far above them, levels above them, he could sense the stirring of the Guardians and he knew he was in trouble.
***
Growly, surly, stubborn bastard. He certainly wasn’t the Master’s usual type. Had Lierr really sent him to protect her? The more she thought about it, the less likely it seemed. She needed—she tapped a finger thoughtfully against her chin as she shoved past the male and strode down the corridor—a test.
Some way to figure out just whose side he was really on.
His insistence that she needed protection was both frustrating and endearing. She could take care of herself, had been doing so for years, but the temple was a dangerous place and she wasn’t stupid. Having a warrior like Jafar on her side could only help. The problem was, she just hadn’t figured out what it was really going to cost her. Other than her peace of mind. Because when he was around, her nerve endings sizzled and he made her think about hot, hot sex. None of which was going to get her sister rescued. Yeah, you could say she was suspicious. He clearly wasn’t telling her the whole truth—if he’d even bothered to tell her part of it.
With a growl, he caught up to her, his hand cupping her elbow possessively.
Possession. Now there was a litmus test she could apply. If he belonged to Lierr as she suspected, he should have a mark somewhere. All she had to do was find it—or not find it. Then she’d know for sure.
If he weren’t a fellow thief, she’d lose him down below.
Naked, that was the key to sorting out her mysterious companion, once and for all. After all, how hard could it be to get him naked? She eyed his body, considering plans of attack. He stalked along beside her arrogantly, his eyes quartering the passageway as he searched the shadowed doorways for threats.
Yeah, all she had to do was get him naked.
Naked was good.
***
“No way.” Miu stopped dead before the tunnel Jafar had indicated. “There are spiders in there.”
Jafar was a madman.
Miu should have guessed there was a catch when he’d claimed to know a shortcut to the catacombs. If she hadn’t been so desperate to get this job done, she would have heard other, more primal instincts shrieking their warning at her. Warning: dangerous madman ahead.
“Hell. No.” She backed away from the tunnel. “Find another route.”
The square, dark mouth stared back at her, a malevolent opening leading down to roomfuls of rotting, dead bodies. Lovely.
“This one’s quickest.” “I. Don’t. Care.” “You will.” He turned those sleepy, dark eyes on her.
How unfair was it that a merck had been given eyes like that? She shook herself. Focus. Business.
“I will? Why?”
“Because we have company coming,” he said grimly. “No, you don’t want to know,” he added when she glanced over her shoulder.
Probably not. She’d been checking the tunnel compulsively for the last twenty minutes; it was good to know that her internal radar was still functioning. Particularly since it seemed to be broken where the merck was concerned—he was looking better and better with each step she took.
“My map says we take this tunnel.” She indicated a nice, tall corridor that sloped downward on their right. A reasonably wide, at-least-we-can-both-stand-upright-in-it tunnel.
His option was distinctly less appealing.
Shaking his head, he indicated the low entrance again. “Your way takes too long.”
Right. “What could be that bad?” She looked at the tunnel again, but the spider webs still formed a lacy drape over the entrance. No way was she going in there.
“We’ve got quite a crowd after us. A dark faerie and a daemon. Also a banshee. Way back but gaining fast, at least one Cat.” He seemed unconcerned, but his body was tense. He really, really wanted her to get into the tunnel.
Time to use logic. “What stops them from following us in here?”
“Too small for the Cat. The others”—he shrugged— “shouldn’t be tracking us with their noses. They won’t expect us to go this way.”
Which begged the question of how they were tracking her. If they were tracking her. Perhaps they, too, had paid a visit to the map man. Or perhaps her merck had reasons of his own for wanting to get her into a dark, narrow death trap. Like her map. And her treasure.
He swore under his breath. “Look, there’s no time for this.” His dark shadow detached itself from the wall and glid
ed toward her. Moving sleekly like the large predator he was, he herded her toward his chosen tunnel. Before she could protest, he bent down and scooped her up.
“Front or back?” he asked pleasantly. “Give me your word you’ll follow and I’ll let you choose.”
“Put me down.” She wriggled determinedly, loosing a long string of very creative curses that she’d learned in the city markets.
He shook her gently. “Listen.”
Taking a deep breath, she listened. Sure enough, she heard a faint scuffling sound. The thinnest whisper of a sound. Was that a cloak dragging on the ground—or a blade being drawn?
“Back,” she spat.
“I have your word you’ll follow me to the end of the tunnel?”
“Yes.”
He crouched and moved into the tunnel. “Coming?”
The tunnel was narrower, hotter, and . . . webbier than she’d thought it would be. At least Jafar’s large frame ran interference between her and the spiders. His broad shoulders brushed the walls as he maneuvered the flarestick before them. Each time the light moved, scurrying sounds whispered around them as the local residents angrily abandoned their webs, retreating to safer cracks or into the darkness.
Worse than the spiders, however, was the smothering weight of the darkness. She fought a feeling of panic as the stone weight of the ceiling pressed down on her. She must have made a sound. Jafar paused— and she ran straight into him. Every single hard, hot plane of him. Jafar’s eyes were amused when he swung his head around—to check on her?
“All right?” His voice was a reassuring rumble. She wasn’t alone.
“Yeah, peachy.” Her sarcasm seemed to roll off of him. Apparently, crawling across a thick carpet of dust was just fine with him. The choking cloud of particles stirred by their movements didn’t bother him. That, or he was just being stoic.
“Wait,” she ordered. He didn’t seem bothered by the dust, but one good cough would betray their position. While he paused impatiently, she tore strips of cloth from her once-white robe. Already, thick black bands of dirt marred the formerly pristine silk.