by Amira Rain
“I am truly sorry if I worried you,” Nicholas grinned, clapping a large hand against Jonas’ shoulder in greeting. “But you know how it is – life is unpredictable! You have to seize the moment when you can, or you end up regretting it forever! And I don’t exactly have forever; would be a shame to spend whatever time I have left on this Earth regretting.”
“First of all, stop it,” Mary-Lou shook her head, torn between amusement and denial, denial, denial. “And second – do you hear yourself when you speak? Because I do, and I can tell you that you, my friend, said exactly nothing. Not where you have been, not what you have been doing—”
“Ah, ah, ah – but that’s a secret, you see?” Nicholas winked, “Nothing as appealing as a little mystery in a person.”
“Too much mystery, and people stop caring,” Jonas muttered. Mary-Lou shot him a look, barely refraining from barraging the other man with questions. It was not the time.
Mary-Lou narrowed her eyes. It better be the time soon; she was sick and tired of neglecting her mate for the sake of repulsive people like Wiley.
Irma entered the kitchen, Jonathon trailing behind her with a cordless phone pressed to his ear. “Thank you, yes – thank you very much,” the older man said before clicking the device shut, focusing tired eyes on the group assembled in his kitchen. “Well,” Jonathon smiled wanly, “I think coffee is in order.”
Breakfast was consumed quickly, with almost mechanic efficiency. Irma and Jonathon quietly discussed something or another between bites of food, Nicholas and Jonas caught up on what was happening with mutual friends, and Mary-Lou largely concentrated on not drowning in her coffee cup.
“Alright,” Mary-Lou mumbled as the last of the dishes were cleared off the table. “What was so important that you dragged us out of bed at five in the morning?”
Irma and Jonathon shared a look. Mary-Lou automatically straightened in her seat; this did not bode well.
Apparently, it was Jonathon’s turn to deliver potentially unpleasant news. Mary-Lou’s father fiddled with a balled-up napkin, took a slow sip of his glass of water – stalled, in other words, and rather incompetently so.
“I spoke with Rowfer,” he offered finally, eyes flickering from Mary-Lou to Jonas.
Mary-Lou blinked, wondering if she was missing something. A quick look at Jonas revealed a similarly confused expression; good. If she was, at least she was not alone.
“And?” Nicholas prompted. “What did the old geezer have to say?”
“Rowfer is not that much older than you, Nick.” Irma laughed. Nicholas gasped out in mock-outrage, exclaiming, “I demand an apology!” even as Jonathon shushed them both.
“Please, pay attention,” the frazzled Coyote groaned, “This is serious!”
Amusement died out, to be replaced with attentive worry. Jonathon sighed, obviously not happy to have killed the mood. Still, he took the opportunity to speak, eyes catching every gaze in the room in turn.
“Rowfer had a vision. A – a premonition, of sorts – and one he felt he had to state publicly.” Irma muttered something about, God only knows why and Mary-Lou began to have a very, very bad feeling about it all.
“What did he say?” She asked.
“He... saw part of your powers, Mary-Lou. Part of what you could do,” Jonathon said, dragging the words out with obvious effort. Mary-Lou frowned.
“Isn’t that good?” she asked. “It means we can stop researching – or at least know what to research about.”
“Well—” Jonathon hesitated. “Yes…and no. He saw part of your abilities, but was unsure of their extent – of their meaning. We guess that was the reason behind his making them public knowledge. That, and a sense of justice that goes beyond good and bad.” Jonathon sighed, clearly disapproving of the whole thing.
“What does that mean?” Jonas demanded, a bit of anger seeping in his voice. “Why did Rowfer not contact us – for God’s sake, the man was in our home but a day ago!” Mary-Lou laid a calming hand on her mate’s shoulder even as the very same questions raised doubt in her own mind.
“What did Rowfer have to say?” Mary-Lou asked, voice calm and controlled.
Jonathon smiled, just a tiny quirk of the lips. He was proud of his daughter, looked forward to seeing what she would accomplish – who she would become. But before that could happen, before anything could move forward, she had to survive. She had to know how, even if it broke his heart to be the one to tell her so.
“He said,” Jonathon cleared his throat against a sudden lump of unease, repeated in a steadier voice: “He said that you had the power of conviction. The ability to bend others’ will to yours, through words alone.”
The room fell quiet as those within it absorbed Jonathon’s words, mulled over their meaning.
Jonas broke the silence first. The Lion Shifter let out a disbelieving snort, leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Yeah, right. Like we wouldn’t have noticed something like that.” He turned to smile at Mary-Lou; the relief lighting his expression slowly disappeared as he recognized the panic in his mate’s face.
“Mary-Lou,” he began.
Mary-Lou shook her head. She had a story to tell – memories of the past night, of screeching tires and Wiley’s slack, complacent face to share.
Silence echoed in the wake of her words. Mary-Lou felt their eyes on her, felt their fear and apprehension and excitement as if it was her own. The world was closing in around her, tighter and tighter; she wished it would crush her, would let her go – anything but this constant imbalance, never-ending uncertainty.
What now? She thought.
What now?
EPILOGUE
“Make me.”
Mary-Lou stared at Jonas, at the cup of water by his elbow. “What?” she asked.
Jonas blinked back at her. “I said, make me. Make me give you the water.”
“You can’t just give it to me?” Mary-Lou sighed as Jonas shook his head. “Fine. Fine, but – I am not sure I can do it.”
“Just try,” Jonas urged. The Lion Shifter had not let up since the morning, trying to make Mary-Lou will him into this or that stupid thing. Had Mary-Lou not been so relieved of his unquestioning support, she would have been annoyed at the man’s perseverance.
“Alright.” Mary-Lou took a deep breath. She concentrated on Jonas, on the glass of water sitting innocently beside him – thought about wanting it, wanting him to hand it to her. She opened her mouth, words of command on the tip of her tongue, and—
Deflated like a punctured balloon.
“I can’t,” Mary-Lou mumbled. “I don’t want to,” she amended, glaring into narrowed blue eyes.
“Mary-Lou—”
“Mary-Lou.”
Irma’s voice cut through whatever argument Jonas wanted to raise. Mary-Lou lifted her eyes from where she had been mulishly glaring at the table, faltering to find Irma’s face dark with anger.
“Turbo,” was all the other woman said. All she needed to say.
Mary-Lou was up from her seat and running after Jonas before she had fully realized what had happened.
Wiley Turbo stood in front of the Cabin, black boots streaked with dirt and remnants of flower petals. He had walked through the flower-path – a petty, meaningless little taunt that would cost him his balls if Irma had her way.
Fortunately for the Wolf, he was not alone.
The remainder of the Wolf pack hovered in the surrounding woods, staying close enough to be seen but not close enough to interfere – a diplomatic move that did not fit well with Wiley’s usual modus operandi. Mary-Lou wondered when she would get to meet the men behind Wiley Turbo, even as she hung onto Jonas’ arm like a particularly determined limpet.
“What do you want, Turbo?” Jonas roared, violence in his every stride as he advanced on the other man.
“Stop,” Mary-Lou hissed over Jonas’ enraged rumbling, “This is not our territory –Irma and Jonathon would take care of his ass if need be.”
Mar
y-Lou spared a moment to wonder why Irma and Jonathon had not done just that. Then Wiley opened that big, smug mouth of his, and the thought was lost beneath a wave of disbelief and anger.
“As I said last night,” the Wolf Shifter growled, “I am here to collect. Hand the human over, Jonas.”
“You did not win the fight, Turbo.” Irma spoke up. The tigress’ voice was biting, eyes frozen with unforgiving hatred.
“I did not lose, either. That is victory enough in the eyes of the Law.” Wiley smirked, adding slyly, “As is providing means for contestants to resolve any standing Challenge.”
Ah. So that is why the annoying Wolf was still alive.
Mary-Lou swallowed. “Is there anything we can do to convince you to let it go?” She asked.
Wiley snorted. “Not on your life, human. You are mine – and I do not leave mine behind.” The last of his words were not meant for Mary-Lou; Jonas bit back a whine, some of the anger in him disappearing under the sudden weight of nameless guilt.
Mary-Lou gripped Jonas’ hand tighter for a moment – a last, comforting gesture. She then let it go in a single, decisive motion.
“Wiley,” she said. Wiley’s expression smoothed, the Wolf barely covering up his confusion at the sight of the human woman approaching him. “You wised up, babe?” he asked instead, hiding his uncertainty behind an ugly leer.
“Wiley, I want you to do something for me.” Mary-Lou spoke slowly, carefully – focused on the intonation of every word, its meaning to her and Wiley. “I want you to leave,” she said and Wiley – Wiley did not snort in amusement, did not sneer with disdain. No, he – he listened, even if he did not move, even though he did not respond.
Emboldened, Mary-Lou focused harder. A dim buzzing built behind her eyes, swirled over her eyes as a thin veil of transparent light. “I want you to leave, and never come back,” she said and felt dizzy, felt Wiley’s immediate denial push against her mind like a physical thing. “Just for now,” she amended quickly, unwilling to let the man go – not when she could prevent further struggle, postpone further bloodshed. “Just until I heal. I am no good to you like this.”
“Of course not,” Wiley mumbled. The Alpha’s face was slack, vacant; Mary-Lou avoided looking at anything beyond his eyes, too disturbed at the sight. Still, the man spoke, agreed with her – stepped back and actually began walking away, toward the trees and his confused companions.
“You retreat your Challenge, then?” Mary-Lou asked. Wiley shook his head and she hurried to add, “For now; you will let me rest. You swear.”
“Yes,” Wiley murmured, repeated her words as if they were his own, “Yes! You will rest now, for what good are you to me like this. Just until you heal.” Mary-Lou nodded. She retreated toward her pack and watched Wiley do the same.
“I’ll be back!” Wiley called out, just before disappearing completely, “You are mine, don’t you forget!”
Mary-Lou shivered as the man moved beyond her reach, felt the control she had over him break and fall about her like the shattered remnants of a broken mirror. Jonas rushed up to her, supported her suddenly exhausted body inside the house and to the nearest chair. Irma and Jonathon followed him closely, the latter remaining by the door to keep an eye out for potential trouble.
“Call Rowfer,” Mary-Lou gasped. She felt empty, so empty and cold and – she shook her head as Jonas mouthed an angry No, shook and could not stop.
“You have to,” she insisted, “Jonas, you will!”
The golden light that burst out of her stunned Jonas into mindless agreement, warmed Mary-Lou for just an instant – the very next moment, Mary-Lou was reeling back in horror. What-what had she done?
What could she do?
Irma regarded her from the shadows of a doorway, unmoving. When Mary-Lou turned to look at her, the older woman had a mobile pressed to her ear.
Rowfer arrived later that night. His appearance was preceded by a lengthy phone conversation with both Irma and Mary-Lou, during which the aged Healer had done nothing but apologize – albeit without saying the actual words. Rowfer assured them of his belief in Mary-Lou’s abilities, in her capability to lead them to a better future.
“It is just not something you hide from others,” the aged Healer had rasped over the static line.
Remembering Jonas’ reaction to her power, Mary-Lou was inclined to agree.
Mary-Lou heard the commotion at the front door. She straightened in her seat by the window, face turned away from the light spilling gently through the thick glass. Again. They were to perform the ritual again, under Rowfer’s careful supervision. Mary-Lou remembered Gloria’s touch, remembered the warmth of her embrace and comfort of her knowledge seeping in her mind. She could not find it in herself to disagree even as she knew the notion of another in her mind should scare her, terrify her more than whatever tricks she found herself able to perform.
But she was not, and it didn’t. Her powers and their consequences scared Mary-Lou far, far more. She needed to know what to do, needed to learn – needed to know all that Gloria had.
“You will be fine,” Jonas promised. The Lion Shifter tightened his hold on her hand for a brief moment, bent to kiss her palm.
Oh, how she wished she could believe him.
“Well, here I am!” Rowfer grumbled. He had climbed up the narrow staircase somehow – no, not climbed, had been carried; Jonathon was surreptitiously straightening his back in the background, hiding a tense wince behind an embarrassed cough. “Let’s get started,” the Healer continued.
Rowfer handed Mary-Lou a knife: Heavy, it glinted silver and gold beneath the moon’s full face. Mary-Lou grasped the hilt, lowered the blade and sliced the palm of her left hand without a word.
Blood budded up from the cut, tiny roses against the paleness of her flesh. Jonas winced for her, visibly restrained himself from reaching for Mary-Lou and brushing the red liquid away. Mary-Lou turned her eyes to the window, to the darkness beyond, and waited for the word.
“Now.”
“Gloria,” Mary-Lou said and felt the air shift, felt something heavy and warm and unreal press against her. “Gloria,” she repeated, a bit unsure and a lot scared as the thing moved, slid over her hands and up her arms and throat like liquid warmth. Like tangible light.
“Gloria—” Mary-Lou gasped – it was in her mouth, in her eyes, in her ears—! She choked on the last intonation of the woman’s name, spat it out like water. Like blood.
GLORIA!
Mary-Lou had no time to scream as darkness rushed and over took her.
B OOK 3
HER LION GUARD 3
RACHEL RED
CHAPTER ONE
Mary-Lou did not yet know it, but she had not been awake for more than a week.
One week. Jonas’ hand trembled where it rested against Mary-Lou’s arm, the muscles beneath his fingers soft and unresponsive. Dead.
Jonas shook his head, squeezed red-rimmed eyes shut in automatic denial. No. Mary-Lou was fine. Mary-Lou would be fine, would awaken any minute and glare up at him with emerald-cut eyes and demand what, exactly, Jonas thought he was doing looming over the bed. She would.
She should have, seven days ago.
Jonas blinked furiously against the burn in his eyes, clenched his teeth together to trap the desperate roar that wanted to tear up his parched throat. Too long. Mary-Lou had been gone much too long, was lying in enchanted sleep like a Princess of a most unfortunate tale. A coma, the doctors said. A spell, Rowfer groused.
Jason had responded with a heartfelt fuck off. If they were not helping, they were wasting his time. Jonas had lost too much time already.
Nearly a week after Mary-Lou’s collapse, only pack was allowed in their home. Jonas grew more and more reluctant to let anyone near Mary-Lou as time passed. As day seven slowly trickled to an end, he found himself growling if someone as much as touched the door handle.
Speaking of.
“Go away, Cara,” Jonas rumbled, eyes not straying from Mary-Lo
u’s face. Her features were soft with sleep, expression open and vulnerable in a way she rarely allowed when awake. To think that not so long ago all Jonas had wished for was to see her exactly like this—
“You need to eat, Jonas.” Cara’s voice carried a reprimand even as it stuttered over syllables, the young fox very much unused to ordering her Alpha around. “Some sleep would do you good, as well.”
“I told you to leave,” Jonas growled, eyes flashing as he glared narrowly at the closed door. He could feel Cara blanch on the other side, could taste the sudden spike of anxiety and anger spice the air.
“Fine!” Cara harrumphed, intimidation giving way to exasperation, “Be that way. I am sure Mary-Lou would be thrilled to find you starved and half-delirious when she wakes up!”
With that, the Fox stormed away, leaving Jonas with the conflicting urge to apologize and bite her throat in admonition. Cara was right, and she was not: The rational part of Jonas agreed with the young woman, understood that he could not allow himself to weaken when his lover was so vulnerable. The more primal part of Jonas’ brain, however, demanded that he stay at his mate’s side – that he forsake all else until Mary-Lou was well again. Rationality had not been winning so far: Fear ran rampant in Jonas’ head, the events of the past month still much too fresh in the Lion Shifter’s mind. He could not leave Mary-Lou alone. Not for a moment, not for a second – not ever again.
“What’s that about starving yourself?”
Jonas blinked; perhaps sleep would do him some good. He was beginning to imagine things. Like Mary-Lou’s eyes opening, her lips moving around half-heard words.
“Jonas?”