Marco frowned at him. “They are prisoners no longer?”
Seshua gave Anton and Ricky a final, dismissive look. “No,” he said, eyes meeting Emma’s. “They are free.”
Marco nodded, but Seshua didn’t see it. Incredulous, Emma stared into his eyes. Did he think he was winning any favor here? She opened her mouth to say as much, but then her gaze leapt to the sight of Alexi advancing out of the crowd of guards behind Seshua, and the words died on her tongue.
His skin was white and luminous with fury, and Emma gulped down a breath a second before the feel of that fury blew against her skin, making her throat feel small. The mark on her hand pulsed, a warm spasm, and the cold receded. Nifty , she thought, and her mental voice sounded unhinged even to herself. He can hear you , she thought suddenly. Oh God, don’t think. Don’t think about —
Fern pushed against her mind with his. Let me — Emma — he trailed off, and Emma didn’t have time to probe him because Alexi was there and he was just as scary as before.
“Seshua.” That one word held menace like a caged thing. “Surely you can’t mean to let them all go?” His eyes strayed to Emma, and she squirmed in Seshua’s arms, wanting desperately to be on the ground. Alexi sneered.
Emma felt Seshua’s body tighten, and suddenly the air around them was just heavier. “Go with Marco, Alexi, before I choose to notice you are contradicting me yet again.” The look Seshua gave him could have shriveled a lesser man’s testicles.
Alexi’s eyes flashed, jaw working. “This is a mistake,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “It is my responsibility to warn you, Seshua. You cannot give in to every demand that this —”
Seshua grunted, and the vibration made Emma’s teeth clack together. “You execute your responsibilities here in my kingdom with a certain degree of elasticity, Alexi. Do not preach to me now.” Sounding tired, he turned away from Alexi. “Go,” he said. “My guards need you.”
Seshua started walking. Emma watched Alexi over Seshua’s blue shoulder for a moment, but the serpent priest stared back at her, and finally she had to look away. When she did, she found Seshua watching her, blue gaze dark and probing, managing to make her feel small.
Emma shifted uncomfortably. “Where are we going?” She glanced towards the door: stupid question. “Put me down, come on.” She pushed against Seshua’s chest. “I’m serious. Down. Now.” Emma ground it out between her teeth, because yelling just wouldn’t have the right effect unless her feet were on the floor. Which they were not.
“No.” Seshua set his sights on the entrance to the chamber, arrogant chin held high.
More pushing got her nowhere. “Why not?” Maybe she could just wear him down by nagging.
“Because I do not trust you to stay out of trouble. Now shut up.” The king reached the door to the chamber and stepped through into a shadowy stone corridor, identical to the several Emma had seen already since entering the underground stronghold. How the hell the shapechangers remembered where they were was beyond her. Seshua’s pace quickened; long, purposeful strides. It would have almost been fun if her ride wasn’t such an asshole.
“We could walk together like civilized people,” Emma said. “It wouldn’t kill you.”
“No, it wouldn’t kill me.” Seshua’s nostrils flared. “It would annoy me. If I put you down and let you walk, you would just find something else to argue about, which would involve standing still, and then I would have to pick you up and carry you again.” He glanced at her. “This way is more expedient.”
“Expedient?”
“Yes. And besides, I’m not civilized.”
“You seem civilized enough,” Emma lied.
“That is precisely how civilized I am — enough.” Seshua punctuated the statement with a growl that nearly shook Emma’s teeth out of her skull. She hated it when he did that — it just reminded her of how human he wasn’t. As if the seven feet of steel-blue, muscular flesh wasn’t enough of a reminder.
“Seshua.”
“What?” He narrowed his eyes at her, arms tensing.
“Why is your skin blue?”
He snorted. “My skin is not blue.”
“Close enough.” It wasn’t though. No name for the color of his skin; cobalt was close, but not quite right.
“Purity of lineage,” Seshua said after a moment. “Those whose ancestry stems from the most ancient and primeval of their race are often marked by coloration of some kind. Mine is especially pronounced.”
Emma stared at him, uncomfortable again in his arms. The more she studied his face, the less human it looked; the heavy jaw, the wide nostrils, the prominent bridge of his nose — even his eyes were too blue to be mortal. All framed by a black mane you could never take a brush to.
“You’re a black jaguar, aren’t you?” Emma finally said.
“Yes.”
“But you know that makes no sense, right? Melanistic jaguars don’t have dark skin, so it’s not —”
“That’s not how it works,” he cut her off with a growl. His face was arrogantly set and his eyes tracked ahead. Emma got the feeling he’d talked too much for his own liking. She knew damn well that sh e had talked too much for his liking.
They rounded a corner and instead of proceeding forwards, Seshua stopped for a moment, ran his hand along the surface of the stone wall to their left, and then pushed. A stone panel shifted away and revealed a narrow, pitch-black space. Which Seshua walked them both into.
The stone panel slid back into place, plunging them into darkness again. Seshua moved forward, slower, but no less sure.
Emma took a deep breath. “What would you do if I told you I was claustrophobic?”
Seshua’s arms tightened around her. “Render you unconscious.”
“Oh. Forget I mentioned it then.”
“That would be my pleasure.”
“Screw you, your majesty.”
“That too would be my pleasure. Close your eyes, the light will be bright.” Seshua shifted her in his arms, and Emma heard stone scraping against stone. She squinted against the sudden brightness as yet another stone panel slid back and spilled warm orange light into the passageway in a big rectangle.
Her eyes adjusted; her gaze lit on Seshua’s private chambers. “Holy shit.”
“Such strong language, pequeña .”
“Don’t pequeña me.” She shoved against his chest. “Down. Come on, we’re here, put me down.”
He released her and set her feet on the floor. She backed away and looked around, mind boggling.
Seshua’s rooms were something else.
They were enormous; circular spaces with wide archways, but no doors or complete walls, like a rounded section of honeycomb with the walls removed. Several tall standing lamps with stained glass shades lit the room. Piles of animal skins and various artifacts littered the place; pottery, weaponry, carved figurines and boxes and masks, all ancient looking and all heaped up as though it was junk at a jumble sale.
There were defined areas to the chambers; a huge desk stacked with papers and pens obviously marked out an office of sorts. Another larger space held a low round table and scattered fat cushions and a smaller table with a jug of water on it. A set of old fashioned tumblers kept the jug company, and a small white refrigerator looked out of place there.
The central space which the door opened onto was the largest, though, and it was clearly for sleeping. Or other things. Directly opposite the entrance they stood in sat a huge, round bed that could have slept ten people hip to hip. Instead of looking like a gaudy honeymoon suite, it looked antique, ornate, covered in furs and surrounded by hanging curtains. Hell, if you closed those curtains, the surface area of the bed alone would make a decent sized room.
A walk in closet opened off to the left of the huge bed. Emma couldn’t see what kind of clothes it held. What did the jaguar king wear when he was in town?
Emma glanced at him. Not much. Black jeans and whatever, if anything, might be under them. Even his feet wer
e bare.
“What are you thinking, pequeña. ” Seshua never moved, but suddenly the rooms felt smaller, as though by merely speaking he dominated more space.
Emma met his eyes, and the look in their rich blue depths was unreadable.
She couldn’t very well tell him she’d been thinking about his underwear.
She studied him for a moment. He was different somehow. His eyes watched her like a cat watches something small and fuzzy, but his body didn’t radiate the palpable tension she knew he was capable of throwing off. His shoulders were tight, the muscles bunched up as though coiled to strike, but the air around him was calm.
He was holding it back — the power she knew he was capable of throwing into the air like an invisible, cloying blanket. But why?
Emma chose to go carefully. “I’m wondering if you’re going to lock me up here and never let me out,” she said.
Seshua narrowed his eyes at her, like he couldn’t figure out if she was being a smartass or not. “You lost me my maidens tonight,” he said deeply. “For that, I should kill you, never mind locking you up.” His thick mane of hair lifted in a breeze that wasn’t there; power leaking out. Like the faintest scent of rain on the air, subtle, but real.
“I didn’t mean to do what I did,” said Emma, squaring her shoulders. “Well, I did, but I didn’t know when I said yes to —”
“Yes to what? To whom?” Seshua stalked forward and stopped in front of her, towering over her. She had to tilt her head and look up, else talk to his considerably broad chest.
She swallowed, suddenly feeling very claustrophobic, and very alone. “Somebody asked me to do something for them. It wasn’t Telly,” she added quickly, mind racing. What should she tell him?
She backed away, but he followed. “I didn’t realize what would happen.” She’d known afterward of course, but by then there was no choice. The question was, would she have said no if she’d known?
“Your maidens.” Emma licked her lips. “You said you’ve lost them.”
“Yes,” Seshua bit out, looking like he wanted to say more, continuing to pace after her.
She tried to tell her feet to stop moving, but they refused to obey. “What do you mean?”
Seshua’s face hardened. “They have changed. The magic binding them to the jaguar line has been broken. They will serve me no more, nor any other jaguar, ever again.” Seshua gave her a moment to let that sink in.
She didn’t understand how it had happened, or why the goddess Katli had done it, but now it was done. Now the maidens were freed from thousands of years of slavery.
If she’d known, Emma still would’ve said yes. Hell, yes.
And Seshua saw it on her face.
He locked his hands around her upper arms as if he wanted to shake her. “You have caused me much trouble, little llamadora .”
“Me? Cause you trouble?” Emma stared at him; a laugh bubbled to her lips and died there as anger followed close behind in a hot, prickling rush. She felt her cheeks flame, heard her blood roaring in her ears, and if he hadn’t squeezed her arms in his great crushing grip then maybe she could have held her temper in check.
”I’m only here because you brought me here!” She yelled into his face and tried to twist away from him. He flinched but didn’t let her go. “Why? This is all your fault, so tell me why the fuck you’ve done this to me?”
Seshua’s eyes widened. “We were talking about how much trouble you have caused me , Emmalina, not the other way around.”
Emma brought her bare heel down hard on the arch of Seshua’s foot, suddenly livid. The king sucked in a breath through his teeth.
“Emmalina, calm down —”
“NO!” If he wasn’t going to kill her, then there wasn’t much else he could do to her that she gave a shit about. She thrashed and snarled and snapped at his forearms, but he shifted so she couldn’t get to him.
“PEQUEÑA! ” Seshua roared so loud Emma’s ears rang. She froze, stunned, staring up at him. His cobalt features were drawn down, and his eyes blazed liquid blue. Warmth bled off his skin. “If it had not been me, it would have been someone else when the rest of the tribes found out about you,” he said, his voice trying for gentle and failing. Something like tiredness crept into his gaze, and he spoke under his breath, almost to himself. “The Salcedo brothers were not the only ones with access to information on your identity and whereabouts. I suppose I should count myself lucky they were the only ones I’ve had to deal with.”
Perplexed and breathing hard, Emma squirmed a little against Seshua’s hold, but he seemed not to notice. “So what, you keep like a file on me, is that it? Private investigators?”
He blinked down at her, slow. A slight frown creased his brow. “Oracles, Emma. Psychics.” The frown smoothed out, he clenched his jaw. “The Salcedo woman was one, but there are others. As I said, I was lucky.” Hands still on her arms, he squeezed. “We both were.”
The Salcedo woman. Was he talking about Ricky’s mother? Emma could barely think straight — Ricky and Anton had argued in her apartment, the prophecy, their mother — that was how Anton had known who Emma was, where to find her.
“There were others, who could’ve found me.” Emma’s voice sounded flat even to her. “Who?”
Seshua dipped his head, breathed deep, chest flaring. Taking her scent. “It does not matter.” His eyes darkened. “You are here now.”
Yeah, and that was a problem. She wanted to keep him talking; talking was safe. “How did you find me?”
He stared at her a long moment, as though he hadn’t heard. Then his hands loosened on her arms. His thumbs began slow circles against her skin, sent chills up her arms that had nothing to do with being cold — impossible to be cold this close to the furnace of his body.
Seshua’s eyes roved over Emma’s face. Almost as though he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation, he said casually, “Since Beata Salcedo abandoned her service to the jaguar kingdom, an Aranan female has acted as royal oracle. A mistake, I see now.”
Now he’d lost her. “Aranan? Isn’t Fern…”
With a deep sigh, Seshua said, “She is Fern’s sister.”
Emma’s mind raced. Almost as though Fern could hear her thinking about him, his mind touched hers.
Emma?
It’s okay, Fern. I’m okay. She pushed him from her mind clumsily. “So Fern binding himself to me wasn’t just his idea, was it?”
“I think not. Fern has always been a bit of a delinquent, as Aranan males tend to be, but never showed much initiative. His sister, on the other hand, is the opposite. Well behaved, but secretive and calculating. I knew we would have problems with her. I did not know how bad they would be.” Seshua shook his head dismissively. “It doesn’t matter now.” He frowned, eyes narrowing. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
Emma began to relax in his arms. “Because I asked. Don’t I have a right to know?”
Seshua looked at her blankly. “No.”
Emma laughed, but not because it was funny. “Yes I do, Seshua. You dragged me here, you’re the one who —”
Seshua shook her, eyes flashing. “You are human, Emmalina. I am not. I have made allowances given your circumstances, but you belong to me now, by the laws of my people, and you must learn to live in my world.” His face softened. “There is no room for allowances in my world, Emmalina. No rights.”
For the first time in Seshua’s presence, real fear unfurled in Emma’s heart. Her bones went liquid with adrenalin. She fought to speak around the sickening thud of her pulse in her mouth. “No rights?”
The Jaguar King gazed down at her, and the look on his face was merciless and indifferent. He shook his head. “No rights in the jungle, pequeña . Only strength, and honor, battle and victory.” He ran his hand up her arm and began to rub his thumb along her collarbone. “You have done well thus far, for a human girl. And you could do worse than this.”
Emma steeled herself against his touch — velvety and hot a
nd electric, everything she didn’t want to feel from him — and glared at him. “So what, you just lock me up and shut me up, is that right?” Her voice shook, and she hated it.
“No, no.” Seshua’s voice dropped an octave, his eyes hooded. “Once we complete the ritual to awaken your powers, you will be mine in spirit as well as name. There will be no need to lock you away.”
“Really?” Emma’s cheeks flamed, and her pulse kicked, panic and anger making her heart pound. “And just where the fuck on Earth does it say I’m yours at all?”
Seshua moved his hand to her face, smoothing hair away from her ear. She swatted at him and he ignored her. “I say it. I have laid claim to you and made good on that claim by bringing you here to my sanctuary. And I will complete it when I make your powers my own.” His arms went around her and suddenly his aura of power flared out and enveloped her, hot and charged like the air right before a storm. It lifted their hair away from their faces, drenched them in heat. Seshua’s eyes were suddenly very close to hers, the color of deep water in the shade, his breath warm on her face, his scent like earth and leaves all around her.
“You’ll collar me. Like an animal.” Emma’s voice was thin with fear.
“Perhaps,” said Seshua. “But you’ll like it. I promise.”
Then he kissed her, and for a moment, she almost believed him.
27
His mouth covered hers, lips hard and silken; he caged her against his body to hold her up, squeezed hard enough to make her gasp for air, and then his tongue swept into her mouth, hot and incredible. He growled, the sound reverberating against her lips. She answered it with a moan she barely recognized as her own. He tasted like copper and honey and warm rain, and he ate at her like she tasted just as good and he was starved.
A moment later, need hit her like a lead weight in her gut, like fire, like nothing she’d ever felt before. She growled into his mouth and plastered her body to his, heedless of the fact that she was barely dressed and he pressed against her bare stomach through the front of his jeans, massive and hard. She gasped and dug into his shoulders with her fingernails, pulling herself up to get at him. With a groan he obliged her, dragged her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her hips. She locked her legs around his waist, plunged both hands into his hair to hold his mouth to hers.
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