by Aliya DalRae
Maxx released him, and the feral fell landed hard at his feet. He stepped over the body and stood toe to toe with Nox. “It’s over Nox. We’re gonna kill that cat and whatever else our benefactor requires. Getting to take you out? I consider that a bonus.”
Nox felt the air shift as a swarm of ferals appeared from the trees, their orange eyes glowing in the darkness like a sick Halloween display. With his Soldiers surrounded and greatly outnumbered, Nox might have worried, but a glance at the Legion males allayed his jangling nerves. The Soldiers were calm but focused as they drew their weapons and formed a circle facing out, fronting their opponents. They knew what they were doing, it was what they trained for. The only abilities anyone could call into question were his own.
Nox gave diplomacy one more shot. “Don’t do this, Maxx. There’s a better way. You don’t know who you’re working for.”
Maxx sneered. “And you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with. This is my brood, Nox. Mine. Any who were loyal to you are long gone. Fair warning, I’m taking you out. Offing a bunch of Legion scum in the process? I’ll consider that a parting gift.”
Maxx’s orange eyes sparked, and his fangs lengthened as he threw the bloodied knife to the ground. “I’ll not need that to take you down. I want to feel your blood on my hands as you breathe your last.”
As vicious claws sprouted from Maxx’s hands Nox sheathed his dagger. If the feral wanted it old school, then so be it. Nox let his natural weapons loose as well, and leapt at his mortal enemy. The two clashed in midair, an explosion of fang and claw, and the battle was on.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
H arrier tensed at Kythryn’s rude comment.
The attacker was on the run, but Perry was hot on his heels, and Harrier trusted the Soldier would have him in custody momentarily. Kyte was checking the area outside the cabin, so for the moment they were safe.
However, even though the immediate danger had passed, a threat of another kind had awakened. With Kitty’s wee body beneath his, and adrenaline pumping through him, his senses were alive and his body reacted on impulse, inappropriately as it were. Despite everything happening around him, Kitty’s comment struck him foul. Anger rushed through him, at the Sorcerer for targeting her, at the true assassin they had yet to apprehend, and at Kythryn for…for just being bloody Kythryn.
With everything balled up inside of him, he fired the emotions at the only person available. The one who drove him to distraction, who tested his every last nerve.
Golden light flashed from his eyes as he balanced on his elbows above her.
“You are a crass lass, Kitty Flannigan, and I’ve tried to be polite. I’ve tried to treat you with respect, as I’m sure your Clowder believes you deserve. However, you don’t seem to respond well to polite, and frankly, it’s not in my nature. I can be crass too, lassie, and I’ll respond to your question with this. No, that is not a pickle, it’s my cock. And if you lift your hips one more time, I will bury that cock balls deep inside you until you are screaming with the pleasure of it.”
Kythryn’s eyes widened, and her lips curled into a thoughtful grin. “That’s quite a threat.”
“No threats, wee Kitty. I don’t make threats. I’ve told you before, if I’ve said it, it’s a promise. Don’t test me, little cat. I’m not in the mood.”
“Funny,” Kythryn said, lifting her hips and grinding them against his now painful erection. “It sure looks like you’re in the mood. Though from the feel of things, if you’re planning on going balls deep, we may need to work our way up to it.”
“Kitty.” Her name came out as a groan. “I’m serious.”
Her breath was coming in short bursts and Harrier could hear her heart pounding against her ribcage, a trapped animal desperate for release. She narrowed her eyes, and for the first time she dropped that maddening smirk. “So am I, Vampire, and I’m waiting.” She ground her hips against him again, leaving no doubt as to what she wanted. “I believe you made me a promise, and I aim to collect.”
The dim room burst into golden light as Harrier shifted his weight to one arm, lacing the other behind her ass to hold her against him as he rubbed their bodies together.
“Too many clothes,” she panted, and he had to agree. He lowered her to the floor, brushing away bits of glass and debris. Desperate fingers reached for the button on her jeans as she reached for his. Snaps flew, zippers parted, and hands delved as they reached inside, skin touching intimate skin. She smelled of nature, the clean scent of the forest, and she smelled of sex. He slipped his finger inside her—so wet, so warm—as her hand found him, and they both shuddered at the contact.
“Harrier.”
No.
“Harrier, come in. You gotta see this,” Perry shouted in his ear.
Harrier reluctantly removed his hand from that tiny piece of heaven and placed his finger in his mouth. Heaven, indeed.
“What’s wrong?” Kythryn breathed as he stood and adjusted his clothing. “Where are you going?”
“To do my job,” he said. “Perry needs me outside.”
“What? But I need you inside!” The innuendo was obvious, and Harrier groaned.
“Soon, my Kitty. Soon. I’ve tasted you now. I promise you, I’ll be back for more.”
“And you always keep your promises,” she said, staring up at him with too bright eyes.
“Aye,” he said. “I do.”
Chapter Thirty
N ox blinked the blood from his eyes as he rolled to the side, scarcely avoiding a swipe from Maxx’s lethal claws. The feral was much faster than he should have been, stronger. Nox had to question whether Fuhrmann had done some magic to reverse the negative consequences of drinking dead blood.
A Soldier rolled past, ensnarled in a deathly brawl with one of Maxx’s ferals, and the scent of spilled blood permeated the air. The Soldiers were fighting two, sometimes three to one, and though most battled on, Nox was acutely aware that their numbers had dwindled.
The only upside was that the ferals numbers had fallen as well. While the sky had been a kaleidoscope of colors—heavy on the orange—when the fighting began, now it fell dim as more and more of the embattled died. Bodies littered the well-tended grass, most missing their heads or vital organs, and the ground was awash with blood.
Maxx pounced on him, catching him unawares, but Nox grabbed his collar and flipped him over, going with the roll so as to come out on top. The few training sessions he’d had with the Soldiers were paying off, but it was clear he had a lot to learn. Fighting with but one eye didn’t help matters much.
As he pummeled Maxx’s jaw, Nox gave a mental head shake and offered up a silent thank you to the Warlord. This wasn’t supposed to be a battle. Nox had argued against bringing so many Soldiers, but Mason had been adamant. Nox supposed that was why the male was in charge.
Maxx arched his back, kicking out as he did so and unseating Nox. He needed to pay attention. Unlike the Soldiers, Nox’s training had barely begun, and this fight was his to lose. Maxx dragged sharp claws across his shoulder, driving that point home, and Nox returned the favor, leaving a bloody gash in Maxx’s chest.
A Soldier cried out nearby, and Nox whipped his head around in time to see the boy fall.
It wasn’t supposed to be a battle.
Chapter Thirty-One
H arrier left the cabin with an ache in his groin and her taste in his mouth. How had that tiny little cat wormed her way into his heart?
No, not his heart. She was just a piece of tail, no more, no less. Yes, she’d awakened his libido, but that was it. His heart was a closed casket, locked away centuries ago, and that was fine by him. Kythryn Flannigan was a job. Potentially one with fringe benefits, but a job nonetheless. He’d be damned if he allowed it to become anything more.
Yeah, asshole. Keep telling yourself that.
Perry and Kyte appeared from the forest and Perry waved him over. “Harrier, you’re gonna want to see this.”
Kyte went to stand guard in fron
t of the shattered window as Harrier followed the other Soldier into the woods, lost in thoughts he’d sealed away with his heart.
“Balls deep, huh?”
Fuck. He’d forgotten about the two-way, must have left the mic on. One of his patented growls was enough to get the Soldier back on track, but damn. He scrubbed a hand over his face and refocused on the task at hand. “What have you got?”
“It’s over here,” Perry said.
The Soldier led him to a feral he had pinned to a tree, literally. There was a long blade sticking through the creature’s shoulder, buried deep into the trunk of an ancient oak. Though in obvious pain, the feral laughed when Harrier approached.
“Talk,” Harrier said, but the feral cackled again, his orange eyes wild with hysteria. “You know I’ll kill you if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”
The feral spat blood at Harrier’s feet. “You’ll kill me whether I talk or not.”
“He’s got a point,” Perry said, and Harrier shrugged.
“Still, I can make it a quick death or…” Harrier let the words hang in the air.
“It doesn’t matter,” the feral said. “The girl’s as good as dead anyway. You really think I came here alone?” He started to giggle again as Harrier’s heart dropped to his feet. “She’s probably dead already. While you two idiots are here with me, they’re tearing that little cat from limb to limb. Then when they’re done with her, they’ll deal with you. You’re gonna die. The entire Legion is gonna fall, and ferals will rule the—”
Harrier removed the bastard’s head. For someone who didn’t want to talk, he sure had gotten chatty. But Harrier didn’t have time for torture or anything else. Kitty was in trouble.
“Take care of this,” he said to Perry as he stripped off his clothes. “I’ve got to find Kythryn.”
Harrier triggered the change, calling Rusty to form as quickly as he could, then he tore off into the night in search of his charge.
Chapter Thirty-Two
T he battle lasted but a few minutes, or it could have been hours. Time stood still for Nox as he and Maxx exchanged blows. Maxx delivered a hard kick to his middle, and Nox doubled over only to find a fist in his jaw. He fell backward, dazed, and Maxx was on him in a trice.
The world around him had fallen silent, or at least had become much quieter than it’d previously been. Maxx drew his dagger and held it to Nox’s throat. He was pontificating about something—they called it monologuing in the movies—and then he was just gone. The pressure disappeared from his neck, the weight removed from his chest.
Nox staggered to his feet, twisted from side to side as he searched for his enemy, but Maxx was nowhere to be found. With the fighting diminished, only a few scuffles still in progress, the Legion Soldiers now outnumbered the ferals. Had they killed that many, or had Maxx called a retreat?
Either way, Nox was relieved. With things in hand, he searched the dead and the wounded, looking for Mouse. The little feral still lay where Maxx had discarded him, and Nox fell to his knees next to the body.
“Damn it, Mouse. Why did you have to return to him?” Nox’s eye burned, but he blamed it on the blood and dirt, and not the tears he knew were falling.
“You left us.” It was so quiet, he nearly missed it, but when Mouse repeated the words, Nox swore.
“I’m sorry, Mouse. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, and I didn’t want to drag the rest of you into another shit storm. I should have known better. I should have known.”
“Did…what you had…to do. So did we.”
“Don’t talk,” Nox whispered. “Save your strength. Martin!” The Soldier was there in a heartbeat—thank the gods he still lived. “Have you called for help?”
“It’s on its way. Cleanup crew as well.”
“Thank you.” Then turning back to Mouse, he said, “Hang in there, brother. Help will be here soon.”
Mouse shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “Have to warn you.”
“There’ll be time for that later, Mouse. The doc will have you patched up in no time.”
The feral arched his back and blood leaked from between his lips. “They’re at the fur farm,” he said. “Outside…town. The girl knows where…”
Whatever spells Mouse had been under were wearing off as he lay close to dying. Or perhaps there had been no spell, and he had simply suffered from mixed loyalties. Either way, they needed to get him back to the Compound so they could find out all he knew.
“Martin,” Nox called. He turned to look for the Soldier, to find out how far out the medics were.
He heard the swing of the blade before he saw it, before he felt the tip cut into his bicep as it sliced through Mouse’s neck. He might have screamed, may have only growled, but what he knew for sure was that the feral who had silenced his friend had suffered the same fate by Nox’s blade. The culprit’s body now lay at Nox’s feet, but he held its head high in the air.
This time he definitely screamed.
Chapter Thirty-Three
T he Soldier, Kyte, who was guarding the cabin, told Kythryn that Perry had caught the feral responsible for the most recent attack. However, with the cabin breached, he thought it might be best if she found someplace safe to hide until Harrier returned.
That’s how Kythryn found herself curled up with the dust bunnies under the cabin’s only bed. However, with the danger past, both of the feral sort and the Harrier variety, Kythryn needed an outlet for her tension. She needed to feel the night air on her skin, the moonlight on her face. She needed to do something to forget about the almost sex she’d enjoyed with Harrier.
But he promised.
That thought made her shiver. She had to move. Now.
She crawled out of her hidey hole and headed for the front door. With the feral in custody, surely a peek outside wouldn’t hurt. She opened the door a crack and stuck her head through, looked left and right and…nothing. The coast was totally clear. Even Kyte had felt it safe enough to leave his post at the door, probably doing a perimeter check or whatever the heck they were calling it.
Kythryn blew out a heavy sigh, threw the door wide and stood on the threshold, breathing in the fresh forest scents. She closed her eyes and inhaled repeatedly until she felt her body relax, then she leaned against the door jamb as the tension in her shoulders eased.
A hard hand grasped her arm, dragging her from her meditation and jerking her back into reality. She reacted instantly, leaning all her weight against her assailant’s pull. The hand released her and she tumbled backward, landing her inside the cabin. Before she could slam the door, though, they were on her.
The feral grabbed her again, threw her to the floor and kicked her in the ribs with a steel-toed boot. A second feral joined him, and when Kythryn’s eyes cleared, bile rose in her throat. It was Gravelly and Whiney. Whiney kicked her again—what the hell was with that anyway? She curled into a ball to protect herself for the follow-up blow that was sure to come.
Through her tears she saw Gravelly approach. He had a rag in his hand and she could smell something on it, even from a distance. She reached inside and triggered the change.
“Watch her.” That was Gravelly. “She’s shifting again.”
Whiney grabbed her, but she was already changing. As her body morphed into a small black cat, she slipped from his grasp and, with her feet beneath her, she took off at a four-legged sprint.
“The door,” Gravelly cried.
Whiney was fast for a pussy, and he slammed the door in her face. She dodged him and slid between Gravelly’s legs as she searched franticly for a way out.
There. The broken window. Whiney went in for a two-handed grab, but Kythryn jumped, barely clearing the hole in the window. A shard of glass sliced her side as she sailed through, but she was free.
When she landed, she shook out her fur and oriented herself, hoping to run toward Harrier, and not in the opposite direction. The cut in her side was a distant sting. Gravelly and Whiney wer
e through the door already, and she had to go, now. There was no time to figure out which way her protector had gone, and so she ran to the woods, hoping she could lose them as she had once before.
Unfortunately, they weren’t alone this time. As soon as she entered the trees, Kythryn knew she’d leapt from the frying pan right into a forest fire. The further into the woods she ran, the clearer it became. What seemed like an entire brood of ferals chased after her.
Gravelly and Whiney were a few strides behind her, the distance shrinking fast. Her senses told her that no matter which way she turned, she would run into another one of those orange-eyed bastards. They were like the velociraptors from that Jurassic movie, closing in on her from all sides. In her mind, she could see them carving paths through the woods, all homing in on her as she ran.
She chose a direction and put on a burst of speed, only to pull up short. Her claws dug into the soft dirt as she scrambled to a stop. A feral had appeared directly in front of her.
She flung her head to the side, but two of the bastards blocked her way while two more flanked her on the right. Gravelly had caught up as well with Whiney close on his heels, and that was it. They were everywhere, barring any path of escape she might have had.
Kythryn forced the panic down deep, working the problem before her. If ever there was a time to be a liger, now was it. She’d never shifted from one feline form to another, had always started from human, but there was no time like the present to give it a try.
Kythryn closed her eyes, concentrated hard on the image of that lion-tiger hybrid. She’d only shifted into that form once, and it was years ago at the behest of Felino Stivali, but the picture would forever remain planted in her mind. She grabbed hold of it and held on.
She could hear the ferals closing in, could smell that nasty burnt-cabbage odor they emitted and she knew time was running out. As she reached inside to trigger the change, the ground fell out from under her and she found herself flying. Cold talons wrapped around her middle, and her stomach dropped as whatever owned those claws carried her away, that awful feral scent disappearing in the distance.