Oh, Jag.
He walked away, as if needing to distance himself from her, from the truths she’d pulled from him. She ached from the pain she’d seen in his eyes, and from the deep well of empathy she felt for him. His parent was dead, and he blamed himself. She knew that dark, bitter landscape far too well.
For long minutes she stood in the woods, alone but for the need to somehow ease Jag’s torment. But how, when he wouldn’t listen? When he wasn’t ready to hear?
Finally, the others began to return, rescuing her from her frustratingly inadequate thoughts. Tighe and Delaney came through the trees first, hand in hand, Delaney’s cheeks flushed, Tighe’s eyes warm with satisfaction and love.
As Olivia watched them together, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be cared for like that. To be loved. Sometimes she caught a similar look in Niall’s eyes as he watched her, but Niall’s feelings lacked the depth of Tighe’s for Delaney. In comparison, they felt weak and thin. Unhappy.
Unreturned. And perhaps that was the difference. Love could never be rich and full when it went only one way.
Niall and Ewan came in from opposite directions.
“Success?” Tighe asked. “Delaney’s a go.”
“Shit hole of a house,” Ewan commented by way of an answer.
Niall nodded. But the look he gave her was nothing less than morose. Niall knew her better than anyone ever had, except, oddly, Jag. Niall had always sensed her moods surprisingly accurately and could no doubt feel that her relationship with Jag wasn’t quite right.
He’d just have to deal with it.
Hawke and Kougar returned, shimmering into man shape in a concert of sparkling lights. Interestingly, while Hawke’s shifting lights were multihued, as Jag’s always were, Kougar’s were almost colorless. White and silver and gray.
“Report?” Tighe asked.
The group had reassembled behind a thick stand of brush where no one from the house would be able to see them if they looked. Jag came up behind her. Though he didn’t quite touch her, she felt his body heat at her back.
“No change,” Hawke replied. “They either have no clue we’re out here, or they’re waiting for us inside.”
Tighe nodded. “Let’s hope it’s the former, but we’re going in either way. Hawke and Kougar, you’ll take the back door with Olivia.”
“No,” Jag said abruptly. “Olivia stays with me.”
Olivia shot him a questioning look. Was he afraid she’d start feeding again and hurt his friends? But when she met his gaze, she saw only a fierce and startling protectiveness. Of her.
She turned back to Tighe, her heart pounding an awkward rhythm. Jag positively confused her. He was the last man in the world she needed to be involved with. And yet, wasn’t that exactly what they were? Involved?
With a twist of her gut, she knew they always would be, on some level. Because as long as he alone knew her secret, he’d always hold her life in his hands.
Hell.
Tighe’s gaze moved between her and Jag. Like Niall, she could tell Tighe wasn’t entirely trustful of what he sensed between them. His gaze landed on her, a question in his eyes. She dipped her head in a brief nod.
Tighe shrugged. “Okay, then. Kougar, you’re taking the front, with Niall and me. Ewan and D are staying outside to catch anyone who tries to escape.”
As Tighe met his mate’s gaze, Olivia could tell neither was thrilled with the situation. Delaney wanted to be in on the attack. Tighe didn’t like the idea of being separated from her.
But she heartily concurred with Tighe’s refusal to take his mate inside with him. Fighting the Mage, with their ability to enthrall, was a skill acquired over decades. A skill no human possessed. Delaney might be a fighter, but she lacked the training that would keep her alive.
“Hawke, let me know when your team’s in place,” Tighe said. “Let’s move out.”
Almost as one, the Ferals shifted into their animals, the cats downsizing. The jaguar led the way and Olivia followed close behind as they delved deeper into the woods to circle the stronghold. They kept low, ducking behind trees whenever they came within sight of the house.
The battle was bound to turn dangerous whether or not the Mage saw them coming. The Mage had magic at their disposal they hadn’t had…perhaps ever. Magic strong enough to steal souls, free three wraith Daemons, and goddess only knew what else. Dark magic. Maybe even Daemon magic, though no one knew for sure. They needed to be prepared for anything.
The rain intensified as they approached the back of the house, and Olivia once more wondered if Mother Nature knew what they intended.
Olivia was soaked through, her hair and pants plastered against her skin, the rain having seeped beneath her jacket through the rips in the leather. But growing up in the fifteenth century and living years on her own without shelter, she’d never been bothered by physical discomfort. Besides, her Therian nature had never completely lost its basic wildness. She’d always felt more at home in the woods and the rain than in a dry, centrally heated modern house.
When we get into place, Tighe’s voice said in her mind, we’ll go in fast and hard. Most of us have fought the Mage numerous times, but it bears repeating. Cut off their hands before you’re enthralled. Kill the sentinels if you have to, but not the sorcerers. We need to know what they’re up to. And keep your eyes open for Daemons. If we’re right about them being nocturnal, they shouldn’t be a problem. But we can’t be sure.
Olivia’s team circled to the back of the house, easing in close as they waited for Tighe’s signal to proceed. Her tense gaze traveled to the two thick wooden posts staked in the backyard, a chill slithering through her as she watched them run with watery blood.
What an awful way to die.
Hawke turned human. Olivia lifted a brow, and he explained. “Birds are of little use in battle. I’m better off with knives.”
The small jaguar rubbed against her leg, then began to grow to full size in a rush of magic that tingled excitedly along her skin. The beautiful, full-sized jaguar swung his dark head to look up at her. In the cat’s eyes, she saw Jag’s, without hardness or devilment, but warm and rich with a demanding intensity.
Be careful in there, Red.
I will. She thought he warned her not to hurt anyone she shouldn’t, but the words that followed told her otherwise.
Be careful of the Mage, Olivia.
Now! Tighe’s voice exploded in her head.
The jaguar took off at a race, Hawke and Olivia following close behind.
Jag? she thought softly. You be careful, too. She wasn’t sure if he’d heard her. She wasn’t skilled in telepathic communication.
But a low purr caressed her mind. Will do, Liv. Will do.
The jaguar leaped onto the porch and crashed through the front window, disappearing from sight. But as Olivia followed, she slammed into something solid and invisible, tossing her onto her buttocks in the grass, knocking the wind out of her.
“Warding,” Hawke muttered beside her a second before he shifted into his bird and flew right through it. His voice rang in her head, a communication with Tighe he’d opened to her as well. Animal forms only, Stripes. The warding…holy shit!
Hawke flew through the broken window and went silent. Olivia’s pulse began to race.
Jag? Jag!
But no voice answered. She looked up to find Delaney, Niall, and Ewan racing around the corner of the house.
Delaney’s eyes were fierce and wild. “It’s a trap! They’ve walked into a trap!”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. Tighe and I are connected. I feel snatches of what he’s feeling. And it’s pain. God, it’s pain.”
Olivia stared at the house, her heart pounding. They couldn’t lose four Ferals! Deep inside her, something ripped loose at the thought of Jag in there. Of his not coming out again.
“There has to be a way inside. We have to help them.”
But even as the last words
left her mouth, something flew out of the window. Something chillingly familiar.
A Daemon.
“Oh, my God,” Delaney whispered beside her, pulling her gun.
“Bloody hell.” Niall drew his sword, as did Ewan.
Blood dripped from the Daemon’s claws and ran down his mouth and chin.
Whose blood? Whose blood?
So much for trying to help the Ferals. Their own survival would have to come first.
Olivia drew her knives. And prayed.
Chapter Fifteen
Darkness. Nothingness.
All around him Jag felt a thick, unnatural absence of light and sound. The only sense of his that seemed to work was that of scent. And he smelled Daemon.
How in the hell are we supposed to get through this soup? Jag snarled.
Hawke’s voice answered in his head. It’s warding. If we can find the path, there has to be a way out.
Jag moved forward, but couldn’t tell if he moved. He couldn’t feel the ground or floor or whatever in the hell was beneath his feet.
Tighe’s roar of pain rang through his brain. Shit, shit, shit. Motherfucker. That thing just tore a strip of hide off my back…I saw him. For an instant. Right after he attacked. He’s too fast. Hawke, either find a way out of here fast, or shift. He’ll rip off your bird head with a single swipe of those knifelike claws.
I’m already shifting.
As am I, Kougar said.
Jag, I need someone to remain in animal form, or we won’t be able to communicate, Tighe said. Since you’re the only one weaponless, you’re my pick.
Works for me. The putrid smell leaped at him suddenly. Understanding registered a split second before the knifelike claws tore into his shoulder, ripping flesh from his bone.
A strangled cry tore from his jaguar’s throat, but no sound met his ears. Holy fucking moly. In the instant the claws left his flesh, he saw it up close and personal as he hadn’t in the woods, its long black hair flashing like gleaming ebony around a hideous gray melted face with razor-sharp fangs.
Jag leaped at the fiend, but the venom was already doing a number on him, and the Daemon disappeared back into the darkness before he could touch him.
Fuck! Blood ran down his leg. I’m beginning to see why they call this thing a wraith Daemon.
You saw him? Hawke’s voice.
For half a second after he attacked me. He disappeared before I could counter.
Hawke’s yell tore through his head.
Hawke?
A groan of pain filled his mind, followed by Hawke’s voice, tight with agony and excitement. That thing is incredible!
Dammit, Wings. You’re the only one who would find the real goddamn bogeyman fascinating.
Jag, is everyone still with us? Tighe asked.
Kougar?
Here. Kougar’s voice, though barely recognizable. Got clawed…in…head. Mind…slowing.
It’s the venom, Jag said. To Tighe he said, Everyone’s still with us, but Kougar’s got venom in the brain. We need to get the hell out of here, Stripes.
For once I completely agree with you. Tell them to pull back. Dammit. I can’t get out through the warding in human form. We’re going to have to shift again.
Back into your animals, boys and girls, Jag said to the group. We’re leaving the way we came in.
Tighe yelled, a cry of fury and pain. Goddamn that hurts!
I can’t shift, Hawke said.
I can’t…shift, either, Tighe gasped.
Kougar? Jag called. Kougar!
No answer.
Oh, shit. There’s a second Daemon outside. Tighe’s voice rang with fury and desperation. I can feel Delaney’s worry shifting to terror.
A bolt of raw fear tore through Jag. Olivia could possibly fight the Daemon as she had before, but stealing its power at this point could kill everyone out there, and he knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t risk it. She’d never endanger the others. Which would put her in grave danger herself.
They’re in trouble, Tighe called. Jag, get out there. You’re the only one who can reach them!
Hawke yelled with pain.
If he left now, he’d be leaving his brothers in the dark with that thing, with no way to communicate. No way out. Deep in his gut, he knew he was their only chance of survival.
I’m not leaving without you, he told the three. But we’ve got to find a way out of here. Fast.
Olivia wasn’t going to die on him. She was not going to die.
But another slice of pain ripped down his back, and he wondered if they hadn’t all reached the end of their lives.
Olivia’s flesh literally rippled as she watched a Daemon approach for the second time in as many days, the experience no less horrifying…no less terrifying…than the first time. Because, although she’d discovered a defense against the Daemon, she couldn’t use it without harming her friends.
Did this son of a bitch hurt Jag? Kill him?
The thought stole her breath like a fist in the gut. She didn’t want Jag dead. Please, not that.
“Where do you think my shots will do the most good?” Delaney asked calmly beside her. “The head or the heart?”
“Go for the head. I’m not sure he has a heart.”
The crack of gunfire shattered the stillness of the day. The humans would almost certainly come running, which would only make matters worse; but they had to stop this thing if they were going to stand any chance of reaching the Ferals.
Delaney fired several more times, hitting her target every time—twice between the eyes, once in the neck, and once in the chest where his heart ought to be, but he never slowed. He didn’t seem to feel the bullets.
“Well, that sucks,” Delaney muttered. She holstered her gun and pulled the hunting knife she now wore strapped to her belt.
Olivia nodded to herself as she watched the woman. Not many humans could remain calm in the face of such a monster. Tighe had chosen well.
The four stood together, shoulder to shoulder, Olivia and Delaney in the middle, Ewan and Niall on either side. The Daemon hesitated, his gaze on Olivia. Did it recognize her? She couldn’t be certain, but it looked like the one that had attacked her last night.
Olivia’s heart pounded, her skin crawling with sheer terror. She had to try to feed from the thing without hurting the others. Which meant she’d either have to draw it away or draw its attack.
But as she took a step forward, Niall’s firm hand clamped down on her shoulder. “Olivia, no.”
“Release me, Niall, and stay where you are. All of you. I’ve faced this thing once and survived.” And it was this one, she was almost sure of it.
Niall’s hand fell away. But as she moved forward, the Daemon floated back. Interesting. Did it sense her plan? Did it remember her, too? Maybe it would just keep moving back, away from them all.
Without looking back, she judged she’d put about three meters between herself and her companions. Not nearly as much space as she’d like, but the distance between her and Daemon was now less than that between her and her friends. She might be able to feed from it without endangering them.
The back door to the house opened and a woman walked out, the same woman she’d seen in the parking lot of Wal-Mart. Mystery, they’d called her. Her gaze met Olivia’s and held, as if Olivia were the only one of importance, the only reason the sorceress had bothered to step outside.
“Come to me, Therian.”
Olivia scoffed. “Why in the hell would I do that?”
“Rear attack!” Niall’s call had her whirling in a quick arc. The sight she faced behind her chilled her as much as the one in front. While they’d faced the Daemon, four Mage sentinels had crept up from behind. Dammit, I shouldn’t have been taken off guard.
Niall’s call had alerted them all, but too late. Even as Olivia ran back the way she’d come, she watched Ewan tackled from behind by two Mage sentinels.
As the other two sentinels took on Niall and Delaney, Olivia raced to keep th
e first pair from overpowering and enthralling Ewan.
But even as she closed the distance between them, the big Therian went suddenly, totally still. Too late.
Goddess help us all.
Mage on one side, a Daemon on the other.
As she leaped at one of Ewan’s attackers, the sentinel jumped to his feet to meet the steel of her blade with his own. All her fury, all her frustration, all her fear for Jag and the others poured into her knife arm and while her center of gravity was far lower than her opponent’s, she was quick and strong and coldly driven. Within seconds, she’d cut off his hand, sending blade and appendage flying in a spray of blood.
As the Mage howled in pain, she took advantage of his distress to cut off his other hand. Without hesitation, she grabbed his arm and began stealing his life force through her fingers.
The wind kicked up in displeasure.
Her gaze strafed the battlefield. Niall, a strong, sure fighter, would have his Mage opponent down in a trice, but Delaney wasn’t as adept at knife fights and appeared to be barely holding her own. Tighe had never intended her to fight. They all knew it. He’d meant for Ewan to protect her in case they did have to take on one of the Mage.
But everything had gone to hell in a hurry.
As Olivia sucked her opponent’s life force, his pain-filled eyes widened with understanding, an understanding he’d never voice. Before he could fall unconscious and give her away, she stabbed him in the chest and dug out his heart.
Just as her blade popped free of his chest, Ewan launched himself at her.
“Ewan, no!” But his eyes were dull with enthrallment, and nothing she said would make a difference. He’d fallen under the control of the Mage.
She dodged his attempt to tackle her to the ground, knowing well, after so many years, Ewan’s every move, every strength and weakness. He was stronger than he was quick. And she, particularly after having taken the Mage’s entire life force, was both.
As she fought Ewan, she saw Niall cut through his opponent’s wrist, and watched as Ewan’s second attacker went after Niall instead. Her old friend was a quick, skilled fighter. He should be okay, even against two Mage. As she watched, he ripped out the heart of his first opponent and turned to the second.
Feral warrior 4- Rapture Untamed Page 16