Prowl the Night

by Crystal Jordan

  “Have you even thought about what that might mean for you?” She closed her eyes, unable to look at him as she pushed him away. Again. “Your career isn’t conducive to a Pride leader’s mate.”

  She expected him to stiffen, to get angry. He didn’t. “Are you asking me to quit?”

  “No, I would never do that.” She opened her eyes and sighed. “I want you to have a life that makes you happy. You’re content in the career you have now. I just don’t know how that would work out if you mated with me. I don’t think you’re considering all the consequences.”

  “You do that enough for both of us. And I have considered it, I’ve just decided that if we can both compromise, everything will work out. So, if that’s not holding me back, it shouldn’t hold you back. Now, let’s try this again . . . why won’t you bond with me?” He ran a finger down her arm, his touch gentle. “You want to, I know you want to.”

  Yes. No. A picture of the last time she’d seen her brother exploded through her mind. His eyes blank and dead, rocking and humming to himself in a chair in his suite. She shook her head wildly, covering her eyes. “No, I don’t. I don’t want to bond with anyone ever. I was hoping I didn’t have a mate.”

  “Everyone wants a mate.” Rafe’s tone remained quiet, but the edge of hurt that was there made tears burn her lids.

  “Not everyone. Not me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because . . . because of my brother.” A sob caught in her throat and she swallowed to stop it from escaping. Her jaw clenched so hard she thought her teeth might crack.

  “That’s not the same as us at all.” She heard him sit up, and forced herself to look at him. Then she wished she hadn’t when she saw the pain she felt reflected in his dark gaze. “We both sense this. We’re both sane and cogent of what we’re doing. Your brother was definitely not.”

  “You don’t know anything about my brother.” The words exploded from her, a dam that burst within.

  His words were still gentle, but relentless in their insistence. “He attacked Isabel, a member of his own Pride. Tried to force her to mate with him and claimed they were mates despite her denials, despite her mating into the Cruz family. He’s mad, Teresa. Everyone knows it. He showed it during the confirmation ceremony for Cesar Benhassi’s leadership.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “Then what are you talking about?” He made a frustrated gesture. “Just tell me why you fear mating so much. Help me understand why you’re refusing to do what we both want.”

  A tear streaked down her cheek, and she swiped it away. “Enrique is mad. Now. He wasn’t always.”

  “I’ve heard these things aren’t always apparent in childhood, that they grow over time.” He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it in furrows. “You can’t know that this wasn’t an inevitable outcome of an unbalanced mind.”

  “Yes, I can! He wasn’t always mad, he wasn’t destined to be mad.” She bolted upright, angry words of defense she knew she shouldn’t say pouring from her mouth. “You all think you know so much, but you don’t. You only know how it ended, not how it began.”

  A muscle in his jaw flexed, and he took a deep breath before he spoke. “You’re right. No one knows that story. Tell me.”

  Her mouth worked for a moment, her mind telling her to keep her family’s confidences, her instincts insisting she could trust this man with everything. “He had a mate.”

  “Isabel was not his mate.”

  “No, Isabel wasn’t his mate.” She shut her eyes, another tear slipping free. Sadness crashed through her, and guilt followed on its heels. “But she looked like her.”

  “What?” He straightened, his gaze sharpening.

  “Isabel looked like his mate, Lupe. Their coloring was very similar.” Close enough that there might have been some relation between the two families way back in their bloodlines. It wouldn’t be surprising considering the size of the Panther population.

  Rafe shook his head. “Then why the hell did he claim—”

  She lifted her hands. “Because Lupe died just after he mated with her. Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.” Her hands wilted to her sides as the confusion and terror of that time pummeled at her. “They say Panthers can go insane if they lose a mate, and he did.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  A laugh straggled out, more tears sliding unchecked down her cheeks. “So am I.”

  “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

  “Father didn’t want it. Neither did Enrique. It’s family business, and there were no excuses we could make for his behavior that would make it better. The Prides had vilified my brother, and there was no making up for what he did. He was wrong, I know it.” She shook her head, wishing things were different, but knowing it could never be. That past couldn’t be undone. “He did horrible things to Isabel, and he is insane. I don’t deny any of that. What I do deny is that he was a festering time bomb of insanity just waiting to go off. He was a good man, a wonderful brother. He was so happy when he found his mate, and she was happy with him. He wasn’t always the way he is now.”

  Rafe caught her hand in his. “Why did you try to hide it after she died?”

  “We hoped that he would recover. We hoped that he would eventually come to grips with the pain of his loss. Grief is a natural thing.” She sighed and looked away, unable to bear the thought that her mate would think less of her for her complacency in what happened. “And in the end, it was denial on my father’s part. On all our parts. Father was wrong, and he should have protected Isabel. I think he even hoped that she was Enrique’s mate, that she could bring him back from the edge.”

  “But he already had a mate. No one has ever had a second mate.”

  “Except Isabel, with her twins.” The irony of that had never escaped her.

  “Those are at the same time, not a replacement of a dead mate.”

  “I know.” Her shoulder jerked in a helpless shrug. “I make no excuses for any of us. I was as much to blame as anyone else. None of us wanted to admit Enrique had lost his mind, and by the time the Benhassis’ ceremony debacle took place, it was far too late to save him.”

  “I’m sorry. Sorry for Isabel, sorry for your brother, sorry for you and your family. I’m so sorry.” He squeezed her hand until she looked at him. The sympathy in his gaze was her undoing, and a sob bubbled up in her throat.

  “He’s not a bad man, no matter what anyone says. I know it’s hard to make the distinction for other people, but that madman is not the brother I knew. The Enrique I grew up with would have been a great Pride leader.” She shook her head, pushing away those thoughts. Nothing would stop her guilt over reaping benefits from her brother’s pain, her shame over not stepping in to force her father to take action when Enrique spiraled out of control. She met Rafe’s gaze. “So, now you understand why I don’t want to mate. If I lost you . . . I’d end up like Enrique.”

  He brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed them. “You’re assuming you would lose me.”

  “Everyone dies.”

  “Eventually, yes.” He turned her hand over and kissed her palm. “You’re assuming I would die first. You could just as easily leave me alone.”

  “Don’t you see? If we never mated, that wouldn’t happen to us.” Her tone went pleading, and she hated herself for weakening on what she knew was right, but everything in her cried out for this man. Woman and Panther both wanted him, and only the woman held back. “We could avoid that fate.”

  He squeezed her hand between both of his. “Do you really think it would be that simple, now that we’ve met each other?”

  “It could be.”

  “No. No, it couldn’t be, Teresa.” His mouth flattened into a line. “Maybe if we had never known about each other, and mating had always just been a theoretical concept you avoided, it would have been simple, but we know each other now.”

  “It hasn’t even been two weeks.
” She recited all the justifications she’d used in her own mind every day since she’d met him. “We’ve both had affairs last longer than this. We can just . . . go our separate ways and we’ll be fine.”

  “We won’t be fine, Teresa!” He threw his hands in the air. “We won’t be together. We’re mates, that’s what we’re supposed to be. Together.”

  She twisted her fingers in her lap so tightly, they tingled with the lack of blood flow. “You promised you wouldn’t force me into mating with you.”

  Eyes widening, his mouth dropped open and a flash of outraged hurt crossed his face. “When have I forced you to do a damn thing, Teresa? When have you ever not had a choice in what we did?”

  “Rafe, please.” That pleading note entered her voice, and tears closed her throat. Why did this have to be so hard? Why did it have to hurt so much? “I thought you would understand.”

  “I do understand. I understand that you’re so twisted up over what happened to Enrique that you can’t separate his problems from yours.”

  Her lips trembled when she spoke. “Tell me it’s not true. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me that Panthers don’t ever go insane when their mate dies. Tell me there’s some guarantee it wouldn’t happen to us.”

  He shoved his hands into his hair, gripping the strands tight. He shook his head, a harsh laugh bursting from him. “Stubborn woman.”

  “I’m trying to protect us both.” She wrapped her arms around herself, holding on to keep from crumbling. “I couldn’t bear it if I did to you what Enrique’s mate did to him.”

  And that was the worst part. It wasn’t just about saving herself anymore, it was as much about saving Rafe too. Somehow in a few short days, he’d wormed his way into her heart. She had to hold fast and keep them both whole. Someday they would recover from this in a way that Enrique never could. Someday they would be all right. This pain would only last so long.

  “His mate died, Teresa! I doubt she did it on purpose.” The look in Rafe’s eyes was enough to rip her to pieces. He stared at her for a long time, as if she’d brought his entire world crashing down around him. For a moment, she almost thought she saw tears sheen his eyes. “You’re never going to give in, are you? You’re never going to mate with me.”

  “No,” she said, but it sounded like a sob. “I was honest with you from the beginning. About this, anyway.”

  “Honest, right.” He nodded, then scrubbed a hand down his face. “Fine. I won’t push you, just like I promised. I hope you’re happy alone. My mate.”

  With that, he shoved himself out of the bed, gathered his things, and disappeared.

  She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from calling him back. Sobs wracked her body, and she curled up on sheets that were still warm from their bodies, still smelled of sex. Shards of agony pierced her. She tried to tell herself this was the right thing, that she was keeping them both from a fate worse than death.

  The thought was small comfort as the scent of her mate drifted farther and farther away.

  6

  Rafe dragged in a deep breath as he stepped out of the airport, taking in the scent of the city. Barcelona. For as long as he lived, if he had his way, this would be his home. No matter where he might roam, this place would be the one he came back to, but only if Teresa changed her mind. Thinking of her made his chest tighten.

  It was a blow to the heart to remember her sobbing when he’d left her bedroom the night before. A phone call to his editor had revealed the magazine still needed someone to cover the travel writing conference in Spain, and Antonio and Fernando had been more than willing to let him go. He didn’t question why they’d made it so easy for him, he’d just needed to get away.

  There had been times he’d wanted to turn back, to rail at Teresa for not having even the smallest amount of faith in them. The fact that she didn’t burned like acid in his skin. His mate didn’t want him. She might never want him, and he would spend his life regretting that he hadn’t found her before her brother’s breakdown, that he hadn’t claimed her before she even knew she wanted to run. But regrets got him nowhere. He lived in the here and now, not a land of dreams.

  And the reality was, he felt as if he’d been flayed open and left to die. Alone.

  The long plane ride and dealing with the usual hassle of international travel had given him time to clear his head and think past his own pain. Teresa would have to return to Spain soon, and some time apart might give her the chance to rethink her position. She wouldn’t have him pressing her to give in to him, and he wouldn’t have the opportunity to lose his cool over her obstinacy. He wanted her willing or not at all.

  Not at all was the option he didn’t want to face, but many sleepless hours of staring out a small airplane window had provided him time to wrap his mind around the yawning emptiness he might feel for the rest of his life. He snorted. What he wouldn’t give to have every bit of his restlessness back.

  But, no. No matter what happened, he couldn’t regret meeting his mate. He just wished he could keep her.

  His first stop in Barcelona was the European Panther Pride den. He had to meet with Fernando Garcia, the way he met with every Pride leader before he wandered through their territory. The Pride’s chauffeur met him at the airport and drove him through the city to the mansion. They passed the incredible spires of Gaudí’s cream-colored Sagrada Família cathedral, and the dramatic lights at night made him understand why people said it was built of bones.

  The macabre thought reflected his mood perfectly. He had little hope that Teresa would reconsider anything. She had yet to yield anywhere except in bed, and he could handle her stubbornness, gladly, if she was willing to be that tenacious about making their relationship work.

  But she wasn’t.

  The weight of that pressed down on his chest, strangling the breath out of him. Unfortunately, he could understand her terror now all too well. Watching a brother she adored dissolve into insanity, assault an innocent woman, and be forced down from the role he’d been born and raised for, all because he’d found a mate, would scare anyone. Being Teresa, she’d assessed the problem and found a way around it. Or so she thought, until she’d met Rafe.

  He could understand her side of things, and that just made it harder to be angry. Instead, he just felt . . . exhausted. Hopeless. Helpless. And frustrated by all of it.

  It was not the best mind-set with which to meet his mate’s father.

  When the car pulled up to the elegant mansion, Rafe drew in a deep breath and schooled himself to calm. He used to be good at that, before Teresa. Stepping out, he dragged his backpack out behind him and slung it across his shoulders. The butler took it from him when he entered and directed him toward the leader’s office. Rafe recalled the location from his last visit.

  The man sitting before a crackling fire was older than he remembered, lines digging deep grooves beside his eyes and mouth. Time hadn’t been kind to Fernando Garcia. He motioned Rafe into a chair opposite him.

  “So, you’re my daughter’s mate.” Dark eyes pierced him, and whatever time had done to his appearance, Rafe understood that nothing had affected the older Panther’s mind.

  Somehow, he was unsurprised that the leader had figured out who he was to Teresa. They’d been discreet about their sexual relationship, but the extra senses of Panthers made secrets like that difficult to keep. It explained why it had been so easy to get permission for this trip. “We aren’t yet mated.”

  “And why not?”

  He decided not to pull his punches. This man needed to respect him and understand that he would stand firmly beside his mate when she became Pride leader. “She’s afraid to mate because of what happened with Enrique.”

  Fernando winced and glanced away. “Nasty business. My poor boy.”

  “I’m sorry, sir.” On the one hand, this man’s inability to see his son’s condition for what it was had left a woman defenseless when she should have had her leader’s protection. That was an unforgivable offense. On the other hand,
the agony of watching your child lose his mind would be enough to bring any parent to his knees.

  Fernando nodded, a deep sigh heaving out. “People think . . . he’s a monster, but it’s not true.” The desperation in the older man’s eyes reminded Rafe so much of Teresa that he reached out to squeeze the man’s shoulder.

  “Teresa told me. I understand, and I’m sorry.” He settled back into his chair. “But that excuses Enrique, to a certain extent. It doesn’t excuse you.”

  The leader’s dark gaze turned flinty and his mouth worked for a moment. “I know it doesn’t. I failed in my duty to Isabel. I failed in my duty to my entire Pride by leaving Enrique as my heir until I was forced to make a change. I’m a father, not a complete fool.”

  “Good. I’m glad that you recognize that.” Rafe hitched his ankle onto his opposite knee. “However, I’m not a father, so I’m not going to pretend I know what you’ve been through.”

  And it was good to see that the man was fully cognizant of his failings. That kind of ongoing behavior in a leader was something Rafe wasn’t sure he could live with. He’d spent enough time under a totalitarian ruler with Antonio’s father.

  Fernando grunted. “Your career is a problem.”

  He flashed a feral grin as he neatly turned the tables on who was in the defensive position in the conversation.

  Rafe tilted his head in an acknowledging nod. He’d figured this was going to come up, and he was glad they were laying all their cards on the table now. “So help me make it not a problem.”

  Eyebrows drawing together, Fernando stroked his fingers down his chin. Then he gave Rafe an incisive look. “It’s occasionally necessary to send emissaries to other Prides. This summit is an example of such things, but it’s not always that intensive and not with that deep a need for resolving political matters. It’s more . . . maintaining a positive presence in the other Prides.”

  “And you’d want me to do this for you?” He thought about that. If he weren’t closing some sort of deal, it might be workable. He wasn’t a politician and didn’t intend to become one, but he could make nice with anyone. That skill was one of his current job requirements.