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

by McIlwraith, Anna

  “I don’t want you to go.” His voice was rough. “Don’t do it. You don’t owe Seshua anything. You don’t owe the serpent priesthood anything, not after-”

  “Ricky,” Emma warned. She dropped his hand. She didn’t want to think about that — or the nightmares that she hadn’t gotten over. Why saving a man’s life should give her nightmares, well, it made about as much sense as that same man wanting her dead for saving him.

  “I don’t want to go, either,” she told Ricky.

  But people might die if she didn’t.

  She stifled a scream of frustration.

  Emma. Fern responded to the spike of her anguish.

  I’m fine. Her mental voice was about as fine broken glass. I’m fine. God, if there was one more thing she could not deal with it was Fern and Ricky fussing over her at the same time. It was miraculous enough that they’d been civilized while she ate lunch, her luck couldn’t last much longer, and she wanted to delay the inevitable bickering. They tried to get along, for her, but they just rubbed each other the wrong way. Something about Ricky hating what Fern had done to Emma, and Fern feeling protective and guilty at the same time. Funny how that resulted in a dump-truck-load of tension between the two men.

  Ricky shoved a hand through his chestnut curls. “I’m going with you.”

  Emma’s head came up. She pinned him with a stare she hoped was scary as hell. “No way.”

  Ricky rallied, cheeks flushing with color. “I can take care of myself, Em. I can’t stand the thought of you in danger again. I can help, I can protect you.”

  Emma stifled another scream. “Everybody seems to think that. I have to take care of myself, Ricky. I can’t do that knowing you’re in danger, I just can’t.”

  Ricky’s amber eyes flashed. “You can’t make me stay.”

  Emma sighed. Yes, she could, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

  “I need you to stay,” she said gently. “I need you safe. I’m sorry, but I need you to stay behind.” He opened his mouth but she held up a hand to halt him. “I need you here because without you, this place isn’t home, Ricky.” He frowned at her. She reached for his hand, and he gave it to her. “I have to believe that I’ll come out of this stupid thing with the jackals alive, because there just isn’t any other option, and I have to believe that I have a home to come back to. I’ve said it before, I’m tired of running, and hiding is just as bad. You’re the only person who means home to me,” she said, hoping fervently that Fern would stay silent. “Without a home, a life, none of this means anything. I have to believe I can have that, and I need your help to do it.” She squeezed his hand. He squeezed back, mashing her fingers together with his shapechanger strength. She bit down a yelp. He dropped her hand, gave her an apologetic smile that didn’t match the anguish in his eyes, and then caught her up in his arms.

  “Fine,” he whispered into her hair. “I don’t like it, but fine.” His voice caught, and he crushed her to his chest, only letting her go when she couldn’t help a strangled sound escaping her throat.

  He set her on her feet, scrubbing moisture from his eyes with the heel of his hand. “I’m going to go find Felani, see if I can make myself useful.”

  Emma nodded, and watched him pad out of the room, shoulders bunched with the tension of not breaking down in front of her.

  That was a very pretty speech, Fern said in her mind. His gentle tone didn’t match the sarcasm of the words. Emma turned to him, found his black eyes soft with sympathy.

  Very funny. She leaned against the sink, rubbing at the bridge of her nose, feeling flat and wrung-out. I meant it. She glanced up at Fern again. If this place is going to be home, if these people — if you’re going to be my family, my life, then we can’t run. Running sucks. I’ve done too much of it.

  Fern just gazed at her, his mind a warm, humming presence against hers.

  “I know you don’t want this,” Emma said, voice pitched low.

  His black gaze hardened. “I go where you go.”

  Emma looked away, out the window, the heat-bright landscape of yards and fences and a far-away tree line. “Because we’re bound. You have to go where I go.” The venom-bond — the Enam-Vesh — would not let them part for any great length of time. And the greater the distance — so Fern had told her — the shorter that length of time would become. Emma could go into town without him, those distances and time spans were safe, but anything more…

  “It’s not just the Enam-Vesh.” Fern moved closer to her, just a fraction. His eyes were very sincere.

  Oh no, Emma thought before she could help herself. She couldn’t handle it if he wanted — if he was — with her…

  Fern’s eyebrows flew up. He made a small sound in the back of his throat. And then he laughed delightedly. No Emma, no, it’s not that. He smiled widely at her, mind wrapping her in warmth. Not that I don’t think you’re beautiful, but it’s not like that. His smile faded a little. I would never…I only meant that I trust you. Even if we weren’t bound, I’d still follow.

  Emma shifted, uncomfortable. There you go again with that trust thing.

  Fern shrugged. I trust you because I can see you. Inside. What I see gives me hope, makes me feel safe.

  And made Emma feel all squirmy inside. Fern frowned at her, his black eyes round with worry. “You see just as much of me,” he said out loud. “You know me better than you think. You ignore the fact that most of what you know about me comes from the bond, not from anything I’ve said, anything I’ve done.” Fern’s voice was soft; he didn’t want to push her. Emma knew it and hated it, even though she had to silently thank him for it.

  “People are defined by what they say and do, Fern. You can’t know somebody unless you’ve known them a while, long enough to judge their actions, learn who they are. We haven’t had long enough.”

  Fern’s brow smoothed out. He arched one black brow, and his glittering eyes suddenly looked old, so old. “You’re saying it’s impossible to know somebody any other way? That you learn who someone is by judging them?” His tone told her just how silly he thought that idea sounded.

  Emma groaned. “No, that’s not what I said. I said…” Shit. That was what she’d said. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t know. You know how I feel about this. I’m trying to cope but it just doesn’t come naturally, you, this, us, any of it. Goddamn.” She put her elbows on the counter and covered her face with her hands, as if that could somehow get him out of her head, prevent him from seeing just how hopeless she was at this.

  She jumped when his hand landed on her shoulder. He didn’t say anything. Just told her with his touch that he didn’t think she was hopeless.

  It probably made him the only one. She was totally inadequate in everyone else’s eyes.

  I don’t know. Fern bumped her shoulder with his. Horne seemed pretty impressed with you. And Felani thinks the sun shines out your — well, he amended when she punched him in the arm, she thinks you’re the bees knees. And personally, I think you’re the only sane person within a ten mile radius.

  Emma smiled, but said nothing. What he was saying was lovely, but…

  But Telly thinks you’re making the wrong decision, and that’s all that matters, right?

  Emma groaned and looked up. It wasn’t all that mattered…it just mattered a lot. A hell of a lot.

  Fern glanced away from her with a small frown, distracted. Emma followed his gaze, turning toward the door to the hallway, and found with a start that Zach Matheson was standing there, looking uncomfortable, confused, and like he really needed to shave. She hadn’t even heard him approaching. Fern probably had; he didn’t seem startled.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but I really need a drink of water.” Zach’s voice was cracked and dry. “That little lady told me I wasn’t allowed to leave the guest room, but I haven’t seen her in a while.” His eyes shifted around, nervous. Emma straightened.

  “Come on in, it’s fine. She just likes to boss people around. How’s Rain?”

>   Zach scrubbed a hand over his grizzled face, entering the kitchen. “He’s okay. I’d swear his legs look better already, but maybe my eyes are just playing tricks on me. It’s hard to tell when they heal slow. Like you blink and it’s just different, better. I don’t know. Thanks,” he said, accepting the glass of water Emma offered. He drank the whole thing in one long pull and set the glass down in the sink.

  He looked at Fern and stuck his hand out. “Zachariah Matheson. You can call me Zach.”

  Fern regarded him for a moment with unreadable black eyes, and then shook his hand. “Fern.”

  Zach nodded. “I guess it’s rude to ask what kind you are, huh?”

  Fern blinked at him. Emma came to the rescue. “Do you know anybody else like Rain?”

  He looked at her. “You mean werewolves.”

  Emma suppressed a smile. “I don’t know if they call themselves werewolves.”

  Zach shrugged, smiling. “They don’t — at least that’s what Rain tells me. But that’s what they are.” He eyed Fern. “I’ve never met anybody else like him, ‘til today.”

  Emma cleared her throat. “We’re not — I mean, he’s not a werewolf. We don’t have any other, uh, wolves here.”

  Zach looked at her, humor glittering in his tired green eyes. “I figured as much, what with being damn near attacked by a leopard earlier.”

  Emma spoke before thinking. “That wasn’t a leopard.” Zach looked at her like he was waiting for her to say more, but a warning push from Fern’s mind kept her quiet. Instead she changed the subject. “Rain can stay here until he’s recovered enough for you to take him home.” Whatever that means, she thought.

  He’ll have to change before he can use his legs. Fern’s face betrayed nothing of the words he spoke in her mind.

  Zach made a thoughtful noise. “I get the feeling your, uh, housemates don’t plan on letting me go until they know well and good who I am and where I came from. That’s fair enough, but I’ve got work to do at the shop. Got bills to pay.” His tone was light, but there were fine lines of stress fanning out from the corners of his eyes. Emma wondered just how old he was. He was either a lot older, or a lot younger, than he looked.

  “Rain is welcome to stay,” said Emma, “and you’re free to come and go as you please. I’ll make sure of it. I know you’ve got no reason to trust that he’ll be safe here without you, but I give you my word.” Emma shrugged, feeling a bit useless. “It’s all I’ve got.”

  Zach laughed, and it made him look younger. “Hell lady, no reason to trust you? You saved his life. For no gain of your own, that I can see. That’s good enough for me.” His face sobered. “What’s somebody like you doing here, with these…” Zach’s gaze flicked to Fern, back to Emma quickly. “With these people?”

  Emma didn’t need Fern’s mental brush to tell her to be careful. “What do you mean, somebody like me?”

  Zach shrugged. “Human. Talented.”

  “Talented?” Emma arched an eyebrow.

  Zach mirrored it. “You’re telling me that vets who can patch up metamorphic tissue are a dime a dozen?”

  Emma crossed her arms defensively. “I’m not a vet. And it wasn’t that hard.”

  Fern laughed in her mind. Yes it was.

  She shot him a glare. You shut up. I’m trying to protect our all-important secrecy, okay? Ignoring Fern’s mental chortling, she opened her mouth to tell Zach politely that who she was and why she was here was none of his business, but before she could get a word out Felani came stalking through the door like a petite, self-contained storm with huge molten eyes that looked ready to blast Zach out of his boots by sheer force of will alone.

  Zach’s boots stayed on, but he backed up with his hands in the air as Felani came at him.

  “Just what do you think you are doing?” She crowded him against the bench with her tiny body. “I told you to stay where you were. Stupid human male!” She sniffed, lip curling as she craned her neck to meet his eyes. Zach gazed down at her, face resolutely blank. Emma got the feeling he was suppressing laughter. She hoped to God he didn’t lose it, otherwise Felani just might kill him.

  Zach started to lower his hands. “Ah!” Felani barked at him. “Do not move a muscle.” Felani turned to Emma, missing the way Zach bit his lower lip, eyes starting to sparkle. “You should have sent for me,” she said to Emma, eyes flashing. “He is not meant to leave the guest room. He is a threat to your security.”

  Emma fought not to smile. “I don’t think he’s a threat to anyone’s security, Felani.”

  Except maybe hers, Fern whispered scandalously in Emma’s mind. She bit the inside of her cheek and shot him a warning glance.

  “I have total confidence in your ability to deal with him,” said Emma, “If he causes any trouble. But I don’t think he will. He’s just human, after all.” Had she really said that? Felani sniffed.

  “Perhaps you’re right.” Felani eyed Zach once more. “But I still do not think he should be running loose, getting in your way.”

  “Lady, I believe it’s you who are in my way, right this minute,” said Zach.

  Felani looked totally mortified.

  Zach smiled at her, raising an eyebrow. “Honest, I was just on my way back to my room. Care to join me?”

  Felani’s brows beetled in a golden frown. Her eyes darkened like two burning coals, embers banked and ready to flare. “Are you mocking me, human?” Her voice was a thickly accented growl.

  Zach’s smile deepened. “Nope. I’d just like to get to know you better. Like maybe your name, for starters. You’ve been bossing me around all afternoon, I figure I at least deserve your name.”

  Felani’s jaw dropped, burnished bronze skin darkening.

  “Her name is Felani,” Emma said helpfully. The maiden turned horrified eyes on her.

  Zach’s eyes stayed on the maiden. “Felani.” Felani whipped her head around, gaze shooting daggers up at Zach, but it wasn’t lethal enough. His gray-green stare warmed. “That’s a very beautiful name.”

  Felani’s eyes widened. And then she made a harsh, frustrated, strangled sound and fled from the kitchen with supernatural speed, leaving Zach looking flustered and confused and utterly smitten.

  He turned to Emma, slightly out of breath. “So,” he said. “No flirting with my captors then, huh?”

  “We’re not your captors.”

  “Tell that to her,” he said ruefully.

  Fern cleared his throat. Zach looked at him.

  “Her kind aren’t used to, uh…” Fern looked uncomfortable. “Humans.”

  “Also I’m pretty sure she’s gay,” Emma said apologetically.

  Zach looked crestfallen. He shoved both hands through his stiff, messy dark hair. His hair looked like it belonged on the wolf he’d brought with him: grizzled with gray, unruly, ungroomed.

  He shook his head. “I’d better go find her.” With that he was gone.

  That is one very brave man, Fern sent.

  Or very stupid, Emma added. She bumped Fern’s shoulder as she moved past him. I’m going to start packing. Who said you were invited? she added with mock outrage when he followed her from the room, but he just laughed, teasing her back as they headed to her room, deliberately keeping her mind from returning to the matter of the jaguar king and the serpent priests and their looming journey to a foreign, hostile kingdom. And deep down, she was more grateful than she ever wanted to admit, because the whole thing quite frankly scared the shit out of her.

  12

  Black Pine airfield was small, and Seshua’s private jet was the biggest thing on it, gleaming in the bright midday sun.

  Staring across the expanse of car-park and runway, Emma cranked open the passenger door of Anton’s truck and hopped out.

  Warm wind lifted her long hair in sheets and whipped it around her face. She hadn’t found time to braid it with all the last-minute things that had needed to be done before they left. Maybe she’d been distracted by the impending trip of doom, or by Felani’s
incessant critique of Emma’s clothing choices — the black jeans and zombie-Einstein tank-top were totally inappropriate, according to the maiden, but it was the pair of red and black plaid-design Doc Martens that really drove Felani over the edge. Emma wasn’t sure which cheered her up more: the outfit, or Felani’s dismay over it, but either way, she left the house in a far better mood than when she woke up.

  She met Anton around the back of the truck, helping him to unfasten the cover and haul out their luggage. Only six of them had been able to come in Anton’s truck — Emma, Anton, Fern, Felani, Horne, and Guillermo. The rest were pulling up in one of the newer, shinier SUV’s, but all their luggage was together. Not that there was much of it — a backpack each was what Seshua informed the guards they were allowed to bring. The jackals had stressed that due to the nature of their travel, anything larger and less portable than a backpack would be left behind. The jackals had every intention of providing their “guests” with whatever they needed. It was just as well the jaguar guards could shoulder a lot of weight; their hiking packs were almost as big as Emma was, and probably weighed twice as much.

  Anton was silent. He and Telly had argued; Anton wouldn’t be coming to Egypt.

  He and Ricky could sulk together. Emma didn’t know what it had come down to between Anton and Telly, but she had a horrible feeling it had been some macho bullshit about Anton not being powerful enough to qualify for the list, and Telly needing someone to stay behind just in case he never came back alive.

  As if that could happen. Unless, of course, Emma tried to kill Telly herself. He was still sulking too, if you could call a walking god in a black mood “sulking.”

  The SUV parked next to Anton’s truck and three of the maidens jumped out: Tarissa, Mata, and lastly, Rish — a maiden Emma had only ever had one very brief encounter with, and it had not been good. She struck Emma as cruel. Maybe that was why she was part of the entourage. Telly, Red Sun, and Andres followed them, leaving Raul to drive the SUV away.