The Jackal Prince (Caller of the Blood - Book 2)

by McIlwraith, Anna

  She narrowed her eyes at him. He stared back as though he had nothing to hide, but she knew now that wasn’t true.

  "Well?” he said. “Do you?" His face was as belligerent as she had ever seen it.

  "Do I what?" She bit out.

  "Do you plan on accepting the jackal’s pledge?”

  Felani choked. “Surely she can’t know-”

  “Hush,” said Emma, voice harsh, eyes never leaving Telly’s. She faced him and refused to look away, fear warring with the anger, fluttering at the back of her throat like a moth. It was not easy to meet the stare of the walking god, but maybe if she could just hold it long enough, she’d understand what the hell went on behind those eyes, behind that not-quite-human mask; what he was thinking, asking her such a stupid question. What he wanted her to say.

  What he didn’t want her to say.

  Do you plan on accepting the jackal’s pledge?

  He saw the answer on her face a split second before she said it. “Maybe,” she said, adrenalin surging. Stupid, dangerously stupid. “Maybe I do.”

  Telly swallowed, throat clicking, eyes boring into hers like twin points of sky. “You don’t mean that. You don’t know what you’re saying.” A warm, unnatural wind kicked up out of nowhere, the feel of magic unmistakable. Telly’s hair lifted in the breeze of his own power, leaking out, hot and dry. Emma’s arms broke out in goose bumps, despite the heat.

  “No?” Emma’s anger boiled higher. “You said it yourself. The pledge is supposed to expand power bases.” It was her turn to swallow audibly. “Power keeps people safe, Telly.” Her voice was brittle, harder than she’d meant it to be. Telly stared at her, face falling. His eyes widened, just a fraction, but enough to belie his uncertainty.

  “Emma,” he said, quiet. “I can keep you safe.”

  Her anger faltered, died. “Can you save the serpent priest who was taken?”

  Telly clenched his jaw, stared at her, fighting to keep his face blank, and failing. “The serpent priest does not matter.”

  Emma took a deep breath, feeling like she was drowning. “Can you save the jaguars when the serpent priesthood comes after them?”

  “I can keep you safe,” he said again, throat working.

  Emma took a step toward him, braving the heat of his power, ignoring the others; Anton had moved away from Telly, Felani was silent at Emma’s back.

  Emma gave her eyes to Telly, let him see the truth in them. She pitched her voice low. “That’s not good enough.”

  Color flared in his cheeks. He took a deep breath, as though preparing to say something, but Emma didn’t want to hear it. She turned her back on him and headed for the kitchen door, telling herself she meant it.

  10

  The plastic casing of the receiver crackled in Emma’s clenched fist. The sticky-note with the jaguar king’s contact numbers shook in her other hand.

  “Seshua,” she said when she heard the line switch. “It’s me.” Stupid. He knew it was her; his assistant would have told him.

  Silence on the other end. A long huff of air being exhaled with force. “I had expected a call from one of my guards, after your rude farewell earlier. This is an unexpected pleasure, pequeña.”

  Emma sat down on the sofa, hard. “When do we leave?” She didn’t even have the patience to give the jaguar king a little hell; it was a sorry state of affairs.

  Seshua was silent only a moment. “Immediately. My assistants are only waiting on my orders to confirm flight details. We are lucky, as Black Pine,” he said the name with thick disdain, “Has its own airfield, but it is so small that we cannot touch down there until it is light. You’ll be picked up by private jet. I will be giving my guards orders to escort you; two will remain behind to guard the ranch.” He cleared his throat. “I assume that I can have no say in who does not go with you, but may I suggest you forbid anyone who may be…” A pause. “Anyone whose safety might be at risk.”

  Emma stood up again, too fidgety, and tried to ignore the maidens and guards who were filtering into the living room. “You mean anyone who might be a liability.”

  Seshua sighed. “Yes, pequeña. My concern of course is that anyone unfit for battle will endanger your safety, but the reality is also that they will endanger themselves.”

  Emma’s gaze flicked to the doorway. Ricky was there, frowning at her. Fern’s head appeared above his.

  “I get it,” she said, hating the way the words tasted in her mouth. “No cannon fodder. Do we have a plan?”

  Seshua laughed, the sound making Emma wish fervently that she was not going to be seeing him in less than twenty-four hours. “The plan is to stay alive, and try to find our serpent priest without being too obvious about it.”

  “How long do you think that will take? How long ‘til we can come home?” Emma was not expecting a good answer, but the one she got was worse.

  “If it is not finished within the week, then I do not believe we will be coming home at all, Emmalina.”

  Well, what had she expected? “Thanks a lot Seshua. What am I supposed to do while you search for this serpent priest?” Somehow she doubted she’d be of much use. She wasn’t exactly trained in sleuthing and covert combat operations, much to the dismay of Anton and the guards.

  Seshua grunted. “I will bring the army. It is your job to stay out of trouble.”

  It was Emma’s turn to laugh. “How am I supposed to do that with a bunch of jackals trying to get me to sleep with their king?”

  “Ah.” Seshua drew the sound out, turned it into something more cat than human. Jaguars couldn’t purr, but Seshua’s voice came close. “Somebody told you.”

  Emma wanted to glare at the phone. Instead she settled for glaring at Telly as he shouldered his way into the living room looking like he hadn’t calmed down anywhere near enough. Red followed him, looking like he thought just as much.

  “Yeah,” Emma said loudly. “Somebody told me. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that you don’t want me banging any jackals, either.”

  Seshua made a strangled sound that matched the way Telly’s eyes widened. The jaguar king growled. “You would not want to be bound to the jackals,” Seshua said.

  “No?” Emma said, knowing that everyone in the living room could hear Seshua’s side of the conversation just fine. “Why not?”

  “Because they are desperate.” There was a note in Seshua’s voice that hadn’t been there before. It couldn’t be fear. Concern, maybe. “It is a risk even taking you there, but it is better than the alternative.”

  “And what’s the alternative?

  “Death. Destruction.”

  Emma refrained from rolling her eyes; he sounded too sincere. “Are the jackals really that dangerous?”

  “No. The jackals only want to bargain, even if they are willing to use force to do it. The serpent priesthood, though, would be happy to kill anything and everything in their path to exact revenge, and they do not give a damn about you or what you are. They would kill my people, destroy my kingdom, and use you as little more than meat with which to bait the jackals and recover their lost priest.” Seshua paused, letting that sink in. It didn’t take long. Emma had already experienced the disdain of the serpent priesthood first-hand.

  “I would not risk you unless I thought it the lesser evil, Emmalina.”

  Emma didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t exactly flattering, but at least it was honest.

  She sucked in a breath. “We’ve got a lot of talking to do, Seshua,” she said.

  Cautious silence. “Indeed,” he said, careful. “We do.” It almost sounded like a question.

  Emma shook her head, blinking away tiredness. “But it’s going to have to wait ‘til we’re in the air. I’ve got stuff to do. People to talk to,” she said, glancing at Ricky. “Things to pack.”

  Seshua grunted. “Indeed. Dress for the heat, pequeña. My assistant will call soon with your flight details. Until tomorrow.” He hung up.

  Tomorrow.

  Sh
it.

  Emma rubbed her eyes, dropping the phone into its cradle. The sound was loud and awkward in the heavy silence.

  “You’re going.” Telly’s voice was flat and terrible.

  Emma swallowed a lump in her throat, ignored Telly, and looked at Horne, who had mysteriously resurfaced after ditching her on the back porch. “Your boss’s assistant will be calling soon,” she said, forgetting he’d probably heard the whole conversation. “Then we’ll know what time we’re leaving, which of you are staying behind.”

  Horne just stared at her, a funny expression on his face. Eventually he nodded. “Good,” he said. “That is good.” Emma got the feeling he wasn’t talking about the plans. She looked away, because it was just too weird to see respect in the way he was looking at her. Too weird.

  “Emma-”

  “Yes, Telly, I’m going.” She fought to keep her voice steady; it wasn’t easy raising it at him. Not with his eyes going pale like that. Not with his hair bristling in a sudden breeze of magic.

  Why was he being like this?

  Emma swallowed hard against the hot lump in her throat. “I have to. People will die if I don’t.”

  Telly’s eyes narrowed to sharp, shining crescents. “Only the jaguar king’s people.”

  All of the guards stiffened, tension a sudden weight in the air. It took Emma a moment to understand his meaning. She shook her head. He just stared back at her.

  She opened her mouth but words wouldn’t come; she could think of nothing to say. He would rather hundreds die than risk her life. There was just nowhere to start with that.

  Horne stepped into the middle of the room. “I think it’s time for you to back the fuck off, trickster,” he said mildly. “The lady has made her decision. It’s not for you to say.”

  Telly cocked his head, and Emma could see the red fox in the sharpness of his chin, in the crystal focus of his eyes. The sunlight slanting in through the big bay windows disappeared, dampened by cloud or perhaps Telly’s anger, casting the room in dim, feverish afternoon light. He took one step forward, his body issuing silent, eloquent challenge at the leader of the guards.

  “Telly, don’t do this,” Emma said quietly.

  He turned, fixing her with pale eyes in a face that had started to lose its humanity in earnest. His blond hair lifted away from his thinning face in a sudden surge of power, an invisible wind that smelled of dust and dying grass and lightning. The scent was almost familiar; the crushed-ozone taste of lightning was new.

  The handful of maidens crowded at the door to the hall bustled backwards with so little grace that they actually made a sound. Emma heard the chink of weapons being drawn, was dimly aware of nervous movement at the door to the hall. Fern’s mind pushed at hers, his quickening heartbeat echoing her own, but Emma couldn’t bring herself to answer. Her gaze was fused to Telly’s, and she was falling into the white pits of his eyes, unable to look away, the hot breeze of his power teasing her hair loose from its braid and filling her head with the sound of a storm howling down —

  “TELHESHTEVANNE!” Red Sun’s deafening roar brought the world back with a horrible sonic pop.

  That one foreign word seemed to sing in the silent air like a bell, like a struck magnet. Emma gasped, lungs suddenly desperate for air. Telly looked as though he’d been punched, smacked in the face with something unforgiving — and as Red Sun crossed the few steps that separated him from Telly, Emma thought perhaps he had. Red Sun didn’t need to lift a hand, his presence was solid enough.

  Telly straightened, power still coming off him in waves like heat off tarmac, eyes narrowed at Red. “Do not treat that name as a trinket.” His voice was deeper, thicker, held the edge of a triple-echo that Emma had heard only once before.

  So that was what Telly’s name was really short for.

  “I do not.” Red loomed so close that Telly had to tilt his head and roll his eyes upward or stare at Red Sun’s barrel chest. Red towered over him; Telly was not a tall man by any standard, and Red was huge by all of them. He clapped a hand on Telly’s shoulder. “We’re going for a walk, my friend.”

  Telly glared up at him, hair still swirling with magic and power and anger. “This is none of your concern.” His voice was almost inaudible, but the command in it pulled at Emma’s insides. At least it reminded her to breathe.

  Red Sun gave Telly a shrewd look, unaffected, dark gaze matching his pale one. “And that’s exactly why I’m here, old friend. Because it’s none of my damn concern.” His voice dropped impossibly low. “You’re losing your shit. We’re going for a walk.” His lips peeled back from his teeth in a snarl. “Now.”

  They stared at each other, silent, the tension humming through their bodies drenching the air. They were silent so long Emma wondered if they were ever going to move, and if it would be rude to pipe up and request a bathroom break.

  Then Telly’s gaze slid to her for a moment, stayed there as though he saw something interesting that she didn’t know was there. And then he turned away, and the tension broke.

  Telly walked stiffly for the front door, and Red followed, nodding at Emma as he closed the door behind them.

  She stared after them, feeling like her world had been turned upside down. Again. Whatever happened to Telly encouraging her to be more domineering, telling her to break the rules, take more control?

  Frustrated tears prickled behind her eyes. She closed them, terrified of losing it in front of the guards, in front of everyone. Just what she needed.

  She heard movement, felt body heat beside her. Oh God. She cracked open an eye. Horne was there, looking down at her. She followed the line of his shoulder up to his face, found it blank in that body-guard way all the guards had of looking sometimes. Most of the time.

  Emma groaned inwardly. “What now?”

  Horne cracked a smile, but when he spoke his tone was even and professional. “I’m going back to my post. Andres and Raul will stay here to speak with the king’s assistant. Should you need anything, any help preparing for tomorrow, you may come to any one of us.” Emma tried not to gape at him, and he dropped his voice lower, which somehow just made it carry further, like a bass drum. “It was the right decision, Emma. It is easy for those without responsibility to condemn the choices you make.” He dipped his head. “Until this evening, my lady.” He left, front door slamming behind him.

  Felani separated herself from the group of maidens clustered around the entrance to the hall and padded over to Emma. “He speaks for us all. We do not want you put at risk, my lady, but it is safer this way.”

  Emma made a disbelieving sound. “How do you figure?”

  Felani shrugged, looking for a moment so normal in her cut-off denim shorts and tank top, her face contemplative. “The jaguar kingdom is your guarantee of safety. The walking god may wield great power, but he is…” Felani waffled a hand through the air. “He is a god,” she said gently. “His priorities are unfathomable at best. You are right in not wanting to run from your destiny, Emma.”

  Emma sighed irritably. “It’s not my destiny I want to face, Felani. I just want a life. A real one.”

  Felani nodded, lifted one shoulder in an odd shrug. “It is Seshua’s power which will protect you, the stability of his kingdom which can offer you the chance to live as you wish. Without it, we would all be left to defend you against the onslaught of races and kingdoms eager to claim your power for their own.”

  Emma sighed. “I don’t have any power. If I did, we wouldn’t need to go to Egypt and snoop around to free this stupid serpent priest.”

  Felani laughed, a musical sound, and any illusion of normality fell away from her. She sparkled when she laughed. “Think what you like, stubborn one. If you prefer, you may think of it as the representation of power which will eventually attract so many to you. When they discover who you are, and where Seshua hides you. Then there will be no more hiding.” Felani gave Emma a pat on the arm. “And then you will find out just how potent even the illusion of power can be.�
��

  “Wow, thanks Felani,” Emma deadpanned. “I feel so much better now. Actually, I need lunch,” she said to no one in particular, heading for the kitchen and shouldering past Ricky and Fern. “Everybody can bother me some more when I’ve eaten. Until then, I don’t want to hear it.”

  Maybe it was the look on her face, or the fearsome sounds her stomach was making, but miraculously, nobody said a thing.

  11

  Emma wolfed two sandwiches and washed them down with orange juice, all in the cocoon of uncomfortable silence she shared with Ricky and Fern.

  Emma was amazed that they two were the only ones in the kitchen with her. Everybody else had managed to find something they had to do in preparation for the trip tomorrow. Emma didn’t want to think about that too much; if she thought about it, she’d have to decide who was staying and who was going. She resolved to concentrate on finishing half her third sandwich, and not think about tomorrow, or the fact that she’d just wolfed almost three sandwiches.

  Fern’s silence was mental as well as physical, only a brief brush of his mind against hers for comfort. But it was enough to tell Emma that Fern had his reservations about going off to a foreign country, a foreign shapechanger kingdom, to rescue somebody they didn’t know and use Emma as the diversion, all under the assumption that the jackals would likely know exactly what they were doing the entire time.

  Not hard to tell that Ricky wasn’t exactly thrilled about it, either.

  It was not the greatest plan any of them had ever heard.

  Appetite gone, Emma stood and put her dishes in the sink. She heard movement behind her. Ricky cleared his throat, the sound more animal than human. “You don’t have to go to bat for the jaguar king. He doesn’t deserve your help.”

  She sighed, turning to face him. He was only a couple of inches taller than her, a couple of inches shorter than his brother, and their eyes were almost level. His were hooded, dark amber, emotion written starkly across his face. Ricky couldn’t force his face blank like the others could. She reached out, captured Ricky’s hand in her own. His face crumpled just a little.