But…
“Lian.”
He leaned down to press a tender kiss to her lips before straightening and once again grabbing her hand so he could lead her forward.
“Today, however, all I ask is that you come and play with me.”
Sage swallowed a sigh.
How could she resist?
Her logic might warn she was bound to regret giving into temptation, but her heart was demanding she savor every moment she could spend with this man.
“You are a very bad influence,” she muttered.
He flashed her a grin that could make her bones melt.
“Sometimes very bad can be very good.”
No. Shit.
She gave up any hope of being sensible, instead allowing herself to be led astray by her naughty cat.
“Where are we going?” she at last asked.
“Someplace my family won’t find us.” An edge of a growl was in his voice. “As much as I love them I’m tired of having a constant chaperone. I want to be alone with you.”
With one last tug of her hand, he urged her through a swathe of Spanish moss and into a small meadow.
“Oh,” she breathed, taking in the narrow channel of water that was spanned by a wooden bridge. “It’s beautiful.”
Lian stood at her side, his hand skimming up and down her back.
“Can you feel it?”
She tilted her head to meet his watchful gaze. “Feel what?”
“The magic.”
She frowned. “I’m not Pantera.”
“Just feel,” he urged softly.
She parted her lips to argue, only to snap them shut as she realized that she could feel…
Something.
The warmth of the sun. The breeze that brushed her skin. The spongy ground beneath her feet.
And an unmistakable tingle that filled her body.
Easily sensing the second she accepted the truth of his words, Lian moved toward the middle of the meadow.
“Now watch,” he urged.
Sage’s eyes widened as a shimmering mist suddenly surrounded Lian’s large body, the air filled with a burst of heat that made her take an instinctive step backward.
Holding her breath, she pressed a hand to her heart as the mist slowly cleared to reveal a huge cat with fur as black as ebony and whiskey-gold eyes.
He was beautiful.
Proud. Powerful. Primitive.
For a breathless moment he held himself still, perhaps waiting to see if she would run away screaming in terror.
But Sage wasn’t frightened.
She felt nothing but awe as she dropped to her knees and held her arms open in invitation. Slowly Lian prowled forward, nudging her with his wet nose.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she stared directly into the eyes that held the essence of the man who’d stolen her heart.
“I see you,” she whispered.
Parting his jaws, he released a roar that shook the earth.
***
An hour after luring Sage from her work, Lian grudgingly allowed her to leave the meadow.
As much as he was enjoying their rare time alone, he understood that his people were desperate for a way to halt Shakpi’s determination to destroy them. If the scrolls had the slightest potential to offer them hope, then he couldn’t allow his selfish desires to stand in the way.
And just as importantly, he understood his sweet, serious scholar.
He could momentarily distract her, but her clever mind wasn’t going to be satisfied until she’d achieved the goal of translating the hieroglyphs.
It would take time to thoroughly corrupt her.
She was disappearing through the Spanish moss when a tall male with golden hair and gold eyes flecked with jade appeared from the opposite direction.
Raphael was the head of the Suits, and father to the first baby born to the Pantera in the past fifty years.
“I heard your female was a beauty, but I didn’t realize she carried the gift of our ancestors.”
Lian sent his friend a startled glance.
He’d been careful not to share his belief that Sage was a potential Shaman, although he was certain his family already suspected the truth.
But it was a shock that his companion had noticed from a mere glance across a meadow.
Either Raphael was a mind reader, or Sage’s powers were growing now that she was in the Wildlands.
He was betting on Sage’s magic becoming more pronounced.
“I suspected, but I couldn’t be certain,” he confessed.
The golden gaze narrowed. “Does she know?”
“She accepts that she has powers that she doesn’t fully understand,” he said, forcing himself not to follow as she disappeared from view.
Dammit. He’d promised he’d give her the space she needed to finish her work.
Raphael moved so he was standing directly in front of Lian, his smile wry as if he understood how difficult it was for the younger male to concentrate on anything but his mate.
“So why don’t you explain it to her?”
Lian grimaced, reaching into the pocket of his jeans for the narrow leather string. He’d left his hair down because he knew that Sage enjoyed running her fingers through the long strands.
And he’d do anything to please her.
Now he wanted it out of his way.
“In the past few days I’ve stolen Sage from her home, placed the fate of our people on her shoulders and discovered that she’s my mate. That doesn’t even include being mauled by my family.” He gave a short, humorless laugh, tying off the braid. “I think we can wait a few days to dump more surprises on her.”
Raphael nodded, one of the few who understood. His own mate, Ashe, had gone through her own shocking transformation.
“She’s stronger than you think,” he assured Lian.
“I don’t want her to have to be strong.”
“Anyone who has to deal with you and your family will need a spine of steel.”
Lian’s lips twitched. “I suppose that’s true enough,” he said. He suspected that Sage was already bonding with his family, but she would have to develop well-defined boundaries if she didn’t want them running her life. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Raphael’s face hardened to a grim mask. “Mercier and Rosalie are missing.”
“Fuck,” Lian snarled, his gut clenching with a combination of fear and fury. As Hunters they understood that their duty was to put themselves in danger when necessary. But that knowledge didn’t stop Lian from feeling a savage stab of guilt at their disappearance. “When was the last time you heard from them?”
“Yesterday morning,” Raphael said. “They checked in from Dallas.”
“And?”
“They said they were at the safe house and intended to return to the Wildlands last night.” Raphael’s eyes glowed with the power of his cat. “They never showed.”
“You think our enemy has them?” he asked, even knowing the question was ridiculous.
Mercier and Rosalie would have contacted Parish if they were going to be late.
No way in hell they would just have dropped out of contact.
“What other explanation—” Raphael’s words broke off on a low growl, his claws piercing his skin as a foul odor filled the meadow. “Do you smell that?”
The stench was impossible to miss.
It warned their enemies were near.
“Intruders?” he muttered, his gaze searching the shadows between the trees.
“No. Shakpi.” Raphael sent him a warning frown. Your Shaman just ran out of time.”
God. Damn.
Could they just once get a break?
Lian shook his head, frustration a toxic knot in the pit of his stomach.
“The translations aren’t done.”
Raphael flexed his claws. “I’ll try to slow her down, but we need a miracle to stop her from escaping.”
There was a burst of mist and sparkling colors as Raphael shifted into a ma
ssive puma with caramel fur and golden eyes.
Lian didn’t bother to watch Raphael bound across the meadow toward the cabin where they’d stashed Chayton’s unconscious body.
He was already headed toward the Suits’ headquarters. Once he’d checked in with Sage he would join Raphael in his battle to try and halt the goddess from escaping the Wildlands.
Reaching the large mansion he released his claws and climbed the post of the balcony. Then, vaulting over the edge of the balustrade he was bursting through the French doors.
Sage had clearly just entered the room, the white gloves dropping from her hands as she caught sight of his somber expression.
“Lian, what is it?” She crossed the floor to stand directly in front of him. “What’s wrong?”
“Shakpi is awake.”
She made a sound of shock, her head turning to glance toward the scrolls neatly laid out on the table.
“She can’t be,” she argued. “It’s too soon.”
“Look at me, sweetheart,” he commanded, cupping her cheek with his hand and urging her back to meet his searching gaze. “Have you discovered anything that can help us?”
She bit her bottom lip. “I’m just now learning how to translate the symbols to sounds.”
“What does that mean?”
“I can phonetically pronounce the glyphs, but I don’t know what they mean.” Distress darkened her eyes to slate. “I’m sorry. I failed you.”
His brows snapped together as he wrapped her in his arms and rubbed his cheek on top of her head.
Dammit. It was bad enough he’d thrown her into the middle of their war with the evil goddess. He wouldn’t have her blaming herself for something that wasn’t her fault. Especially when he was the one who’d lured her away from her work.
“Don’t say that,” he chided. “Even if Shakpi escapes, these scrolls might help us prepare our defenses.” Lifting his head, he peered down at her pale face. “We need you, Dr. Parker.”
She gave a small nod, then abruptly wrinkled her nose as a blast of putrid air swept through the open French doors.
“Good lord, what is that?” she muttered.
Grabbing Sage’s arm, he gave her a push toward the far door. “Run.”
“What?” She dug in her heels, looking at him as if he’d lost his mind.
She wasn’t wrong.
The mere thought that Shakpi was headed in this direction was enough to send him over the edge.
The evil bitch was supposed to be trying to escape.
It’s what she’d done the first time they’d tried to hold her captive.
Snatching the phone from his pocket, he sent a quick message to his mother.
“Go to my family,” he rasped. “They’ll take you back to your home.”
She was shaking her head before he ever finished speaking. “No, I’m not leaving you.”
He glanced over his shoulder, a shudder of revulsion wracking his body as Shakpi reached the edge of the clearing.
“Don’t be stubborn.” He jerked his attention back to the female who was making his heart squeeze with terror. He could face a thousand crazy-ass goddesses before he could contemplate the thought of Sage in danger for even a second. “There’s nothing you can do here.”
Her chin tilted. “I’m not helpless.”
He fisted his hands. Where the hell was this coming from?
He was impulsive and always ready to dive into danger headfirst. Sage was supposed to be the sensible, cautious, blessedly logical one.
“You can’t stop a goddess,” he pointed out in rough tones.
She remained stubbornly in place. “Can you?”
“Sage.”
Without warning, she moved forward, going on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.
It was a gentle caress laced with the promise of a future.
Oh…hell.
“You do what you do and let me do what I do,” she commanded in soft tones.
In that second, she could have ordered him to stop the world from turning and he’d have done everything in his power to fulfill her wish.
Accepting he’d lost this particular battle, he turned to run out of room, shifting into his cat as he sailed over the railing of the balcony and prepared to battle a goddess.
CHAPTER 7
Sage ran her fingers over the glyphs, desperately trying to ignore the vicious roars and occasional snarls of pain that filled the air.
She didn’t have claws or teeth. Or even a damned gun.
For now, the only way to help Lian was by concentrating on the scrolls.
She was so close, the symbols forming into words in her head as a tingle of power raced through her blood.
This wasn’t a history of the Pantera as she’d first assumed. Or even a detailed explanation of how to destroy Shakpi as Lian had hoped.
This was…magic.
Lost in her thoughts, Sage didn’t sense the approaching man until he lightly tapped on her shoulder.
She jerked her head around to discover a tall man with milky brown skin, blue eyes and dark hair that was closely buzzed to his scalp.
Xavier was the Geek she’d been in cyber contact with for the past four years. Of course, she’d assumed he was another researcher, not a mythical puma shifter.
“What are you doing?” the man snapped, his expression grim as he towered over her. “You need to evacuate.”
“No.” She turned back to the scrolls to point toward a hieroglyph shaped like a bluebird. “What does the word Hielar mean?”
With an effort, Xavier leashed his obvious desire to be in the clearing below with his pack mates.
“Hielar?” His brow furrowed as he searched his mind for the answer. “In the old language it meant ‘come.’”
Sage felt a flicker of hope.
Was it possible she was on the right track?
“Come or summon?” she demanded.
“What are you suggesting?”
“I think this is a spell.”
Xavier stiffened, suddenly offering her his full attention. “A spell to get rid of Shakpi?”
She gave a shake of her head. “No. To summon someone.” She bit her bottom lip, touching her fingers to the glyphs. The strange prickles continued to race through her body, as if urging her to speak the words, but the symbols remained frustratingly out of focus. “Or something.”
“Dammit.” Xavier glared at the scrolls in frustration. “I was so certain these could help.”
“I think they can,” she insisted.
He shook his head. “Dr. Parker, I appreciate you traveling here and trying to decipher the scrolls, but the last thing we want is to risk summoning some unknown spirit.”
She flinched as she heard a heavy body crash into a tree below.
She was a scientist at heart. The sort of person who depended on logic and fact. Which was why she’d tried to suppress the magic that bubbled deep inside her for so long.
Since arriving in the Wildlands, however, she’d allowed herself to lower her barriers and ‘see’ the scrolls with her emotions, not the eyes of a researcher.
At the beginning she’d thought she’d sensed the lingering echo of the goddess because she assumed Opela had written the scroll.
Now that she realized it was a spell…
Well, the only reasonable explanation was that it was meant to summon the elusive goddess.
“Even a spirit that has the same power as Shakpi?” she asked.
Xavier made a sound of impatience. “There isn’t any.”
“Her sister.”
Not surprisingly, the large male glared at her as if she’d just committed sacrilege. Even though it’d been centuries since Opela had disappeared from the Wildlands, the Pantera deeply mourned her loss.
“Opela sacrificed herself to imprison Shakpi,” he said in harsh tones.
Sage reached out to lightly touch his arm. She didn’t mean to offend Xavier, but she didn’t have time to do this in a more diplomatic way.
/> “You don’t truly believe she’s gone,” she insisted.
He scowled, no doubt assuming she was arguing semantics. “Not completely gone, but—”
A loud yelp sounded from below. Lian. Sage pressed a hand to her heart. She could physically feel his pain.
“Oh hell,” she breathed, sending Xavier a pleading glance. “We have to do something.”
He hesitated for less than a heartbeat before giving a sharp nod of his head.
“Say the spell.”
That wasn’t what Sage had been expecting.
“Me?” She blinked in confusion. “I’m not Pantera.”
“You have the magic,” he told her, his gaze boring into her with a fierce determination. “You’re the only one who does.”
She stepped away, wrapping her arms around her waist.
It was one thing to be asked to translate the scrolls. She had full faith in her abilities to decipher even the most obscure languages.
But what did she know about magic?
A big fat nothing.
“What makes you think I can cast a spell?” she rasped.
His huge body vibrated with the need to join the battle, but easily sensing her rising panic, he reached to grasp her upper arms in a light grip.
“Do you remember the first time we met?”
She licked her dry lips. “In the chat room?”
“Yes, I sent a fellow Pantera a message in our private language. Imagine my shock when you managed to translate it.”
The internet chat rooms she’d discovered after becoming an adjunct professor had proven to be a godsend.
She might be too introverted to mix easily with people in public, but she’d been astonishingly capable of joining in the numerous debates and scholarly exchanges in the various rooms.
“I thought it was a brainteaser,” she confessed, easily recalling the strange conversation that had popped up on her screen. It’d taken her several hours, but she’d eventually worked out the basic construct of the unknown words and sent a message back to Xavier in the same language. “But a talent for translations doesn’t equate to mystic abilities.”
“No, but over the years I sent you more and more obscure texts, most of which were nothing but gibberish to me.”
She arched her brows. “Were they Pantera texts?”
He shook his head. “They’d been written by a Shaman.”
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