The Awakening

by Christine Feehan

  "And have you run screaming from me?"

  "I may run screaming from you anyway," she pointed out with a small, self-mocking grin. She was watching his face, saw his sudden resolve, and her heart began beating overtime in her chest.

  In the canopy overhead a monkey screamed; the flutter of wings told of birds taking flight. Brandt swung his head around quickly, alertly, his eyes suddenly flat and hard. "James! What are you doing here?"

  Maggie looked in the direction Brandt was staring just as the wind shifted. She caught a vaguely familiar scent. She had smelled that presence a couple of times now, in the forest as she journeyed on her way to her parents' home and then outside the house, near the verandah. She could barely make out the man hidden in the shadows.

  "Just curious, Brandt." The voice floated to them, almost a challenge.

  Maggie instinctively moved closer to Brandt, feeling that odd "fur ruffled the wrong way" sensation she didn't like. Brandt seemed to recognize her discomfort and circled her waist with his arm, drawing her beneath the protection of his shoulder. Before he could introduce the other man, James had melted into the bush.

  Maggie held her breath, waiting, but she didn't know for what.

  Brandt left her side, tracking the other man into the foliage. When he returned he took her hand, drew her to him. "He's gone. Don't look so afraid."

  "Who is he?" Maggie asked.

  "One of our people." Brandt sounded grim. "One I would caution you to keep a distance from. He holds a fundamental belief that the rules apply to everyone but him."

  For no reason that Maggie could think of, she shivered violently. Her body held an aversion to the man who was hidden in the heavier foliage. Brandt immediately reacted, running his palms up and down her arms in a massage.

  "Why do you touch me as if you have the right?" And why did she crave his touch? "You touch me as if it's perfectly natural." As if she belonged to him.

  "Does it bother you so much?" His voice dropped an octave, became a husky seduction. The pad of his thumb slid over her full lower lip in a caressing stroke.

  Her stomach did a flip of delight. "It bothers me because it feels . . ." She trailed off, her eyes locked with his. It felt right. Perfect. Exactly what she wanted. His mouth was a scant few inches from hers. The temptation of his perfectly sculpted lips was more than she could resist.

  Maggie honestly didn't know who moved first. She only knew there was magic in the brush of his mouth on hers. He was unexpectedly gentle, his lips moving over hers like the soft drift of the breeze. She felt his ravenous hunger, yet he touched her so tenderly, coaxing her response instead of demanding one. She pressed closer to him, circling her arms around his neck, needing the feel of his body against hers.

  At once his lips firmed, hardened. He deepened the kiss, his hands sliding over the contours of her body, shaping her curves, dragging her closer. Brandt pushed the edge of her shirt up to give him access to bare skin. His palms found lace over her breasts, the thinnest skimming of materials to cover luscious treasure.

  His touch sent fire racing through her blood. It shook her that she could have such a reaction, such an overwhelming need. A tremor ran through her body, and she stiffened slightly, something deep within her still fighting.

  He abruptly pulled his mouth away from hers, his hands lingering on her breasts, his forehead resting on hers. There was the sheen of sweat on his skin and his breathing was ragged, his body fiercely aroused. "We can't stay here alone like this, Maggie. I don't have nearly the control I thought I did." He kissed her again. Gently. Persuasively. "Unless you want me the way I want you."

  Everything feminine in her rose up to answer his call. She wanted him. Craved him. But as hot as she felt, as much as she wanted to wrap herself around him, something deep within her perversely denied them both the ultimate release.

  "I can't, Brandt, I'm sorry. I don't know why. I can't." She curled her fingers in his shirt, held on to him for comfort.

  His hands reluctantly left her breasts, skimmed over her rib cage, caressed her flat belly. "I understand, honey. Don't worry." He kissed her forehead, breathing deeply to pull himself back from the edge of sexual hunger. "Let's go somewhere safe."

  "Is there somewhere safe?" She looked up at him, knowing her eyes were shining at him. His understanding only served to make him more attractive. Brandt Talbot was an incredibly sensitive man and she was falling deeper and deeper beneath his spell.

  He bent his head to kiss the corner of her mouth, feeling he should be a candidate for sainthood or at the very least knighted. He took her hand and started off confidently in another direction. "I guess the village would be safe enough. We might find a person or two there." He scowled as he said it.

  Maggie knew he was thinking about the mysterious James, hoping he wouldn't be at the village. "I would hope so. I'd like that. I've wanted to see it." She enjoyed walking beside him as he named plant species and pointed out animals and reptiles she might have missed. She became aware of how completely safe she felt with him. The forest was a dark place, mystical and even haunting, yet Brandt moved so quietly, so fluidly, with such complete assurance, she realized just how much a part of it he really was. "You took all those photographs hanging in the house, didn't you? They're very good." There was raw admiration in her voice.

  He actually flushed. "You noticed those, did you? I hope you didn't read any of that nonsense. I should have taken them down but I didn't think about it."

  "I liked the poetry."

  He groaned. "It isn't poetry. I just was trying to find something for titles but nothing fit." His excuse sounded lame even to his own ears.

  Maggie reached out and touched his hair, tangling her fingers in the silky mass for just a moment because she couldn't resist. "Are you a professional photographer?" He was so appealing in his embarrassment that she was reluctant to help him out but she couldn't stop herself.

  "I freelance for National Geographic," Brandt admitted reluctantly. "I write articles and do consultations for various governments. Along with my job here, I try to raise world awareness about the value of the forest."

  Maggie stared at him in shocked amazement. How could she not have put it all together? "You're the Brandt Talbot, the renowned leading expert on the rain forest? Doctor Brandt Talbot. I can't believe I'm talking to you. I've read everything you've ever written!" Maggie found herself falling deeper under his spell. He loved what she loved. She heard it in his voice and read it in his articles. He couldn't fake that kind of passion. "Tell me more about the species you say my parents were," she encouraged, uncertain whether she could believe him or not. Her body seemed living proof of his revelations. Something was going on inside of her, something she seemed not to have control over, yet his explanation seemed beyond the realm of reality. She tried to keep an open mind. "Are there many of them left?"

  "Of us, Maggie--you're one of us--and no, there are not many of us left. Our race has dwindled. We've been hunted and killed nearly to the point of extinction. It was partly our own fault. We don't have the most noble history." There was regret in his voice.

  "What happened?"

  "In the early days, some tribes worshiped us as deities. Some of our people became obsessed with power. Like any species, there are those among us who choose a life of common good and service, and those who want to reign, to conquer. We have our own diseases and our own problems. We're passionate, a mixture of human and animal instincts that means good and bad from both sides." He stopped walking. "The village is just ahead of us. Maggie, even today, some of our males are obsessed with power," he cautioned her carefully.

  "Leopards don't mate for life, Brandt. The females raise the cubs alone. Do the men walk away after sex?" She forced herself to ask the question without looking at him.

  He caught her to him, his arms steel bands. "No, Maggie. We are not leopards, not animals, nor are we human. Our species mate for life. It's how it's done. For nine lives. All of our lives. Over and over. You're mine,
I know you are, you've always belonged with me."

  Relief and joy washed over her, so much so that she couldn't respond. The thought that he might want her for all their years rather than just a mating made her happy in spite of the fact that she wasn't altogether certain any of it was real. She let him hold her in silence while she looked around her, trying to see through the rain and trees. Sure enough, there were a couple of small structures woven into the trees and camouflaged by the wealth of plants growing in every conceivable manner. She shook her head. "This is the village? This is where everyone lives? All two buildings?" She was trying not to laugh. She had pictured something much different. A thriving busy hub, at least, like a native village.

  "We never live in the village. We simply meet here to enjoy company or get supplies. Homes are scattered in and around the trees. We make certain there are no trails and that we're constantly vigilant, looking for signs of anyone near. The poachers destroyed the village the night your parents died, and since that time we've kept it quite small for protection."

  "That makes sense, but it seems a sad way to live."

  "We have our own community and not all of our people reside in the rain forest. Some have chosen to live on the outskirts. We change at will, with the exception of the Han Vol Dan. The first time shifting occurs is uncomfortable and can't be controlled. It's best to have someone with you to talk you through it."

  "So children don't shift shape. Only adults?"

  He nodded. "And we don't know what triggers it in each individual. Some are earlier shifters than others." Brandt slipped his arms around her shoulders, needing to touch her, to have her close. He was feeling edgy and combative, knowing the other males were in close proximity. His friends, he reminded himself. Men he trusted. Men who had saved his life a dozen times, as he had saved theirs. They knew Maggie was his mate. They would be just as uncomfortable around her as he would be with them there until he had bound Maggie to him.

  And then there was James. Brandt and the others had scented him in the forest, watching Maggie's arrival. Twice Brandt had smelled his spoor near the house. Brandt didn't trust James and didn't want the man anywhere near Maggie. Their species had too much animal influence, so much so that they had to fight their very natures at times. They reacted like territorial males until the bonds were fully established. It was dangerous for all of them.

  Maggie felt the fine tremor running through his body. "What is it?" She slid her arm around his waist, something she might not ordinarily have done, but he seemed to need her. There was a strange kind of power in having a strong man need her so much, to have him so intent on his pursuit of her. "You're uncomfortable with our being here. I can feel it, Brandt."

  He pulled her back into the shelter of the trees and turned her into his arms, brought her body tightly against his so that she could feel his every muscle imprinted on her. His scent enveloped her. Brandt leaned down to nuzzle her hair aside so he could find her shoulder with his mouth. Teeth scraped back and forth gently over her bare skin. "I want you." He whispered it softly against her ear, his warm breath teasing her senses. "I want you so badly I can't think sometimes."

  Her entire body answered his whispered confession. Clenching. Pulsing with heat. With hunger. With anticipation.

  His lips drifted up her throat, his teeth tugged tenderly on her chin, skimmed along her cheek to find the corner of her mouth. His tongue stroked. Lingered. Traced her lips until she opened for him. At once she was lost. His mouth was a mystery of intrigue, of masculine expertise and hot promises. His tongue swept inside, swept her away from her inhibitions. From sanity. From any clear thought.

  Her arms crept up around his neck. Locked there, held him to her while she moved against him, a slow rubbing of her body against his. Arousing him further. Savoring the way his body hardened in response. All the while their mouths were welded together. His hands moved over her, shaped her breasts, memorized the curve of her hips, slid possessively over her buttocks. Kneaded. Massaged. Stroked.

  His mouth became hotter and silkier, his tongue danced, dueled with hers. He trailed kisses over her chin, her throat, leaving tiny flames behind. His mouth settled over her breasts, suckling right through the thin cotton of her shirt.

  Maggie cried out, cradled his head, arcing into him while her body nearly drowned in a tidal wave of desire. Nothing had prepared her for the heat, for the hunger.

  "Let's go away from here," he whispered, "right now, Maggie. Come with me away from here. I need you so much right now."

  She nodded, needing him, needing him to stop the terrible ache, to fill the emptiness. "I've never done this before, Brandt," Maggie admitted, wanting him to go slow, to let her catch up to his obvious experience.

  His entire body went rigid. His golden eyes blazed at her with a mixture of consternation and hunger. "Are you untouched, Maggie?" There was shock in his voice.

  She stiffened immediately, drew away from him. "Not anymore." Her chin went up with a hint of defiance. "I'd have to say you changed that."

  He had inadvertently hurt her. Brandt shackled her wrist, brought her resisting body back to him. "I'm sorry, Maggie, I didn't mean it that way."

  "I know exactly what you meant. You wish I were experienced. I'm so dreadfully sorry, but I'm not. I've never found a man I loved that much or was so attracted to that I wanted to have a physical relationship." She was furious. Furious. She was not about to defend her morals to Brandt Talbot. She turned away from him, away from his pathetic little village.

  Brandt knew Maggie wanted to be angry with him. He was certain she was telling herself she was angry with him, but her eyes were shiny and if tears spilled over he would have to kiss every drop from her face. Deliberately he dragged her hand to his chest and held it against him, ignoring her halfhearted struggles.

  "How could you think I would want another man to put his hands on you? To touch you?" His arms circled her body, held her to him while he nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. "The last thing I would ever want would be for you to believe, even for a moment, that you cared for another man enough to want him to make love to you." He kissed her temple. "I was only concerned for you. You should have told me immediately. What you're feeling, I'm also feeling. I could have lost control. I must take great care with you." He held her to him, waited for the tension to drain out of her. He was beginning to know her. She might flash at him, but she got over things quickly.

  Maggie tilted her head back to look up at him. Instantly she knew she'd made a mistake. His eyes were dark, liquid, melting her, tugging at her heartstrings. She shook her head, knowing it was too late. The hurt, the anger was slipping away while her insides turned to mush. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and forced her hungry stare away from his hypnotic eyes.

  "Take me to the village. I want to see what it's like." She needed a space from him, breathing room. She needed a semblance of normalcy and a reprieve from the continual sexual assault on her senses.

  He rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking thoughtful. "All right, we'll go, but just remember I'm as on edge as a male leopard when a female is . . ."

  She whipped her head around, glared at him, provoked beyond endurance. "Don't you dare say I'm in heat. I am not in heat!" She flushed a bright scarlet, stepped away from the temptation of his masculine body. "What a thought!" Though she'd been thinking it herself. She had all the signs of a feline in heat, but Brandt saying the words aloud was humiliating. Suddenly her eyes widened and her hand went to her throat. "Wait a minute. Are you implying I can conceive? Is that it? I'm ovulating and I want to have sex because I can conceive?"

  She backed hastily away from him as if he might contaminate her. When he started to follow her she pointed an accusing finger at him. "You stay right over there, away from me. Far away from me."

  He was grinning at her and Maggie found herself staring at his mouth, fascinated. Intrigued. Her mouth curved in an answering smile in spite of her intentions to be serious. "It isn't funny. Stay
over there where I know I'm perfectly safe and explain this to me. Do . . ." What in the world did they call themselves? "Do leopard-people only have sex when the female ovulates?"

  Brandt burst out laughing. "You're looking disappointed, Maggie, which I'm thankful for. No, we are a highly sexual race and lovemaking is frequent. But, yes, when our mate nears the time of ovulation, the need becomes much more intense. Sex can be rough. That's why I was concerned with your being a virgin, not because it displeased me." His gaze was hot as it moved over her. Possessive. "We'll get around it."

  "We won't need to get around it! You aren't coming near me! I'm not getting pregnant. I'm not! So you can just stop looking at me like that. Unless you have a box full of protection, you can forget it." She felt wild, upset, needy. Raging hormones out of control. She felt sorry for every female cat she had ever come into contact with. "Weren't you even going to tell me?"

  "Eventually. I'm taking things slow, letting you get used to the idea of what you are. It carries a certain responsibility with it." He shrugged his wide shoulders, and she nearly groaned at the way his muscles rippled enticingly.

  "I'll say." She glared at him when she wanted to fling herself at him and beg him to rip her clothes off. The village was the only safe place. They needed people, not privacy, not an exotic rain forest with its flowers and trees and steamy assault on the senses. "Get away from me, Brandt. I'm feeling extremely catlike toward you just about now, and raking my claws down your face seems a good idea." Raking her claws down his body would be better. Over his back. Clinging to him. The image the words evoked sent her body pulsing with need.

  He saw it in her expression, inhaled her beckoning scent. Male satisfaction gleamed in his eyes.

  Maggie rubbed her hands up and down her thighs. "For heaven's sake, do we have litters? Cubs? Inquiring minds want to know." She couldn't stand still, she couldn't think clearly. Another wave of need was rushing through her body like a fireball.

  Brandt's gaze narrowed, focused on her completely. He simply reached out and caught her hand. "Neither one of us is in any shape to go visiting, Maggie. You're going to have to trust me to know what to do."