Twelfth Moon

by Lori Villarreal

  “Other than the fact that it turns me into a mindless wanton, lacking the strength to control myself?” Her laugh sounded brittle even to her own ears. That was obviously no answer to his question.

  “You resisted Furley well enough.”

  She snorted.

  “Any woman in your situation would have been helpless against a man of his size,” he explained in her defense. “Even without your unique…circumstance, it would have been almost impossible to fight him off. But you did.”

  Her diversion had worked and it heartened her that he understood what she’d faced…not only because of the spell, but as a woman vulnerable to such a degrading assault. She turned in his arms and smiled at him. “I did, didn’t I?”

  He gave her a gentle squeeze and kissed her forehead. The affectionate gesture almost brought tears to her eyes, but she held them back. “Yes, you did, Little Hellcat. Now go to sleep. If you’re not worn out from riding all day with that fat slob, then you must be plum tuckered out from what we just did.”

  She felt a hot flush creep up her neck at the reminder of their mating and was grateful for the shadows that hid it. “Don’t you go getting full of yourself, now, Marshal,” she said irritably, bristling when he chuckled in response.

  Cadence closed her eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep. When she opened them again, she was surprised to see that it was morning, the sky brightening with the imminent sunrise. Jonah lay flush against her back, keeping her warm, his arm draped heavily over her waist. Her bottom fit snuggly against his groin and she could feel the hard ridge of his manhood pressing insistently into her soft flesh. Just when she was contemplating the merits of waking like this, his body stiffened, his arm tightening around her waist.

  That’s when she noticed the three Indian braves. They stood over her and Jonah in a semi-circle, pointing deadly-looking spears at them. She gasped.

  Jonah held her still when she tried to sit up. “Don’t move,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Daanzhonl Da. Good morning.”

  The deep voice immediately drew Cadence’s attention to the one in the middle. His dark eyes were fixed intensely on her. “We have come to speak with the woman who holds much magic.”

  Eleven

  THE WOMAN WHO holds much magic? To Cadence, even though the Indian’s tone was polite, his expression remained stoic while he and his two companions had yet to remove the threat of their spears. And the one who’d spoken continued to stare intently at her. In fact, all three of them were. Did they know who – and what – she was?

  All three men were unusually tall, with handsome, chiseled features, their long black hair falling well past their shoulders. Each brave had braided their hair in different fashions, adorning it with colorful beads and feathers. Their deerskin tunics appeared soft, with intricate beaded designs sewn by some talented hand, but the garments couldn’t hide the muscled contours beneath them. A square of deerskin hung down from underneath their tunics, in the front and back, almost reaching their knees. Under that, they wore fringed leggings.

  They were not what Cadence would have expected – as Indians went. They didn’t look savage, or bloodthirsty, or evil. They just seemed cautious – and arrogant. “What do you want?” she asked carefully. Jonah tightened his hold on her.

  “Do not be afraid,” the middle Indian said in accented English. “My name is Ba'cho Gian-nah-tah.” He turned his head slightly to the left. “This is my brother, Nah-kah-yen.” Then he indicated to his right. “And my other brother, Too-ah-yay-say.”

  “Ba'cho…Gian…nah…tah,” Cadence said slowly.

  He grinned, showing his straight, white teeth. “I will also answer to Ba'cho. What do your people call you?”

  She could feel Jonah’s body tense. “I’m Jonah and this is Cadence.”

  Ba'cho spoke a strange word, obviously meant for his brothers. He seemed to be the one in charge. Immediately they raised their spears, holding them upright, the sharp ends pointed toward the sky. He then addressed Jonah and Cadence with an air of command. “You will dress and come with us.”

  “Now wait just a minute,” Jonah said in protest. “Do you think we’ll just come along, because you told us to?”

  “You have no choice,” Ba'cho said. He and his brothers stood patiently, obviously prepared to wait for as long as it took.

  Jonah swore under his breath. “At least turn your backs while the lady dresses.”

  One of the brothers shot a strange look at Ba'cho. They spoke in their own language, the other brother joining in. It seemed as though they were arguing. Then Ba'cho gave a short, quick nod. “We will do as you ask, but be quick about it.”

  As they turned around, Cadence caught a glimpse of copper skin high up on Ba'cho’s hip, an area not covered by the leggings. His brothers were likewise dressed. It was such strange clothing, she couldn’t help but stare. She was surprised to note the absence of any sexual interest at the sight of so much virile masculinity, and yet Jonah’s proximity caused her body to hum with renewed desire. It must be because she’d already made her choice – Jonah was her mate now. No other man would draw her attention in that way.

  Jonah made a noise beside her and she turned to look at him. He seemed perturbed. “Are you enjoying the view?” he murmured low, reaching for their clothes. He looked over her shirt, noticed the missing buttons and handed her his.

  Was he jealous? Cadence’s heart fluttered. She hastily slipped the shirt over her head, catching the glimmer of heat in his silver eyes just before her breasts were covered. She inhaled through her nose, noting with pleasure how the soft flannel material smelled of him. “They’re just so strangely dressed,” she said as they both began tugging on their trousers beneath the blankets. “So different than what I’m used to. Have you ever seen such tall Indians?”

  “No,” Jonah answered quietly. “I’m not sure what tribe they’re from. I don’t recognize them.”

  Just as Jonah and Cadence finished dressing, although Jonah was still shirtless, Ba'cho and his brothers turned around without any warning. Apparently the braves felt they had allowed enough time. Jonah stood, helping Cadence to her feet. Together they faced the three braves.

  “We are Tche Shä, Sun Otter People, of the Jicarilla Apache,” Ba'cho said, obviously having heard Jonah and Cadence speaking.

  “Apache?” Jonah asked in surprise.

  Cadence studied the tall Indian. He stood with relaxed confidence, masculinity rippling off him in waves. She may have already chosen her mate, but she wasn’t completely immune to this man’s allure. “You are very…unusual.”

  Ba'cho grinned. He was extremely handsome. Cadence wondered if she would have been able to resist him had she come across him before she’d met Jonah. “We are an unusual tribe,” he said, still grinning. “Come. Pack your things quickly and we will be on our way.”

  “Where are you taking us?” Jonah demanded to know.

  “Our tribe is to the north. That is where we will go.”

  “What do you want with us?” Cadence asked.

  “We have been searching for you, Ndołkah,” Ba'cho said in stilted English, his dark gaze on Cadence.

  “Me?” Cadence exclaimed. “Why me, and what is it you just called me?”

  “It is the word my people use,” Ba'cho said, not really answering her question. “All will be revealed when we reach our village. You must come with us now – you and your mate.”

  “Mate?” Jonah growled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Ba'cho’s expression was enigmatic as he studied Jonah for a moment. Then he grunted low, saying, “It is time to go.”

  Jonah made a sound of disgust. He turned toward Cadence, leaning in close to her ear. “I don’t think we’re in any danger,” he said low. “For now, we have no choice but to do as they say.”

  Cadence nodded, worried about what this could all mean, sensing that there was more to what Ba'cho wanted than just to talk to her.

  Jonah dug in his saddle
bags for an extra shirt and pulled it on. Behind him, Cadence watched with avid interest. The muscles in his back bunched and flexed with his movements like living, sculpted clay. She sighed softly, lamenting the covering up of such a glorious expanse of skin and muscle.

  She joined him as he began to move around the camp, packing up their things under the watchful eyes of the three braves. There was only Jonah’s horse, so once he was mounted, he gave her an arm to help her up. When she tried to swing her leg over the back, he maneuvered her with amazing ease, settling her in front of him. He held her there with a strong arm at her waist.

  Jonah leaned forward, his mouth close to her ear. “This is where I want you.” The timbre of his low voice, combined with the unmistakable possessiveness of his words, sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

  Cadence felt safe cradled against Jonah’s strong body, his arms on either side of her providing an added sense of protection as he held the reigns. It was a silly sentiment, really. She was able to protect herself by simply changing into the panther, yet somehow, since their coupling and she’d witnessed the forging of the bond between them, she’d begun to change. She had softened…become less aggressive…more…amenable to his male tendency to dominate.

  She had better be careful. There was no guarantee that Jonah felt anything but a physical attraction to her. And there was no forgetting the fact that she was still guilty of murder. Nothing could change that. She could only hope that by the time they reached New Orleans, she could convince him to stay with her. But first she had to discover what it was Ba'cho had in mind for them.

  They rode out, Ba'cho’s two brothers staying to the rear. As Ba'cho passed on his way to take his place at the front, Cadence caught and held his gaze, intense and blatantly admiring. It lasted only a moment, but it was enough to get the feeling that this man and his people knew much about her. And there was something else – a sense of the familiar. It was very disturbing.

  Jonah’s reaction migrated to her, his body stiffening. She felt it in the tensing of his muscles, the way his breathing changed. He didn’t like the attention Ba'cho was giving her. What he didn’t know, however, was that she belonged to him – body and soul. Sooner or later she was going to have to tell him, but she still had doubts about him. She wasn’t about to hand over that kind of power to him – yet.

  Ba'cho openly showed his appreciation as he studied the woman called Cadence. She was very beautiful; no man could deny it, especially one like him. Her skin was a pale contrast to her short-cropped, curly black hair. She was slim, but with pleasingly curved hips and lush breasts. He had only caught a glimpse before she’d covered herself with the blanket.

  And every time she had looked at him, he’d been enchanted by her large, green eyes. If it weren’t for the fact that it was her sister he was after, he might have been tempted to seduce her, taken her to his pallet and given her much pleasure. All the men of his tribe were handsome, strong, and virile. But she had already chosen her mate, Jonah, and it was easy for all eyes to see that he was very possessive of her. Besides, it was her golden sister Ba'cho had dreamed of. It was she he believed to be his future mate.

  Ba'cho had until the rising of the next full moon to find the sister. As foretold in his dream, he was to bring her to his people. She was destined to heal the breach that held them imprisoned. And during the next full moon she would come into her cycle of mating. He fully intended to be there when she did.

  The image of the woman in his dream filled his mind. Her skin was so pale and perfect it seemed to glow in the light of the moon. Her long, golden hair fell over her shoulders in a shimmering waterfall of soft waves. He longed to hold her in his arms, to have her beneath him, to watch her beautiful blue eyes flash with passion. Every time he thought about it, he became hard and aching.

  However, along with her image, a pair of green-gold eyes persisted in haunting him. Ba'cho could not put a face to those eyes. He did not know what it could mean. It was frustrating and gave him a very uncomfortable feeling, as though the Gods were preparing to play a prank on him. But, soon he would have the golden woman. He would bring her to his people so she could fulfill her destiny.

  He faced forward and with a flick of his heel, spurred his horse to the front of their small group. In three days, they would reach his village. That is where the beautiful, magic woman and her mate would be tested…and the truth revealed.

  They rode at a steady pace, taking few breaks, speaking even fewer words. Cadence discovered a new kind of torture, her heightened awareness of Jonah’s large body behind her making her shift restlessly in the saddle. Every point of contact where they touched, her skin tingled. Ultra-sensitive nerve endings sent continuous signals directly to the juncture of her thighs, causing moisture to pool there. The friction of her trousers rubbing against that most sensitive area only made the situation worse. Jonah’s huge erection burning into her back didn’t help matters, either.

  Transferring the reins to one hand, Jonah freed his other and slid his arm across her belly. He pulled her up tight against his front, putting his mouth close to her ear. “Stop wiggling, Hellcat, or we’ll both give our newfound friends an eyeful,” he rasped low.

  “I can’t help it,” Cadence whispered hoarsely. “The moon is still full. As the sun sets, my condition gets harder to control.”

  “Try and be still for just a little longer. Once we stop for the night, I’ll see if I can get us some privacy.”

  AFTER WASHING UP in a nearby stream, Cadence watched as Ba'cho and his brothers laid their bedrolls in a three-point perimeter of their camp. There was a place for Cadence and Jonah in the middle, near the fire.

  Ba'cho noticed her curiosity. “It is for your protection, not to keep you from escaping. You are vulnerable.”

  Jonah moved to stand at her side and Cadence asked, “What do you mean – vulnerable?”

  Ba'cho remained silent, his black gaze steady on her face. It seemed as though he were weighing his answer, determining how much he should reveal. “There are forces unknown to most,” he began quietly. “You know this.”

  Frustrated by another one of his cryptic answers, Cadence cried, “What does that mean!” Jonah gripped her arm, lightly squeezing a warning.

  “We are not the only ones who know who you are, Ndołkah,” Ba'cho said softly, unaffected by her outburst. “There is evil – and we come closer to it as each day passes. It will not touch you as long as my brothers and I are near.”

  Cadence shivered. “Evil?” She had felt it – or something that had begun as an uncomfortable, crawling sensation. It was faint, but there just the same. She didn’t understand it, or where it was coming from. “Why are you here? Why did you come for me?”

  “My tribe needs you, Ndołkah,” Ba'cho said.

  “Why do you call me that – and don’t say, ‘it is the word my people use’,” she said, imitating his deep voice.

  Ba'cho spoke as if to a child. “I will tell you what it means when we reach our village.”

  Cadence huffed, throwing her hands up. He wasn’t going to tell her until he was ready. There would be no explanations – any real explanations, apparently – until they reached their destination.

  Jonah stepped forward. “Are we free to leave?”

  Ba'cho crossed his arms over his chest. “No.”

  Jonah’s eyes flashed silver. “So we are your prisoners.”

  “You are not our prisoners,” Ba'cho replied.

  “But we can’t leave,” Jonah said, sounding frustrated himself, “which makes us your prisoners.”

  “If you were our prisoners,” Ba'cho said, and then grinned, “we would have taken your boots, bound your hands and forced you to walk behind your horse, attached by a leading rope.”

  “Sounds lovely,” Cadence muttered, feeling churlish.

  Ba'cho chuckled. “It would not have been…lovely.”

  The three Indian braves had so far treated them with respect, as though they were guests. Cadence woul
d just have to be patient.

  Jonah stepped closer to Ba'cho, their eyes meeting on the same level. “We need privacy,” he said low.

  “You will stay within the circle.”

  “Cadence needs—”

  “I am aware of what Ndołkah needs,” Ba'cho cut in. “Do not worry, we will close our ears.”

  “That’s not good enough,” Jonah snarled.

  “It will have to do,” Ba'cho said with finality. “Our people are not embarrassed by the intimacy between men and women. We will sleep and pretend not to listen.” Deeming the conversation over, he turned and walked away in the direction of his bedroll.

  Cadence had heard the entire exchange and felt a red-hot burn in her cheeks. How could she possibly engage in such a personal, intimate, act, knowing there would be three other men close by, witnessing it!

  Jonah put his arm around her shoulders. She shivered with a sudden rush of desire. The sun had set, the full moon still low on the horizon. But it was there, suspended like an iridescent ball of doom.

  Just that small contact with him caused her body to sizzle in anticipation, and with a mixture of both dread and delight, she allowed him to guide her to their blankets. She wouldn’t be able to control herself tonight. She could only hope to keep her screams and moans of pleasure to a minimum.

  “It’ll be all right,” Jonah said softly near her ear, making her gasp. “We’ll find a way.” They lay down together, wrapping themselves in the blankets. Jonah pulled her into him from behind, his arm tightening around her. She snuggled as close as she could get. The fire was warm and comforting at first, but all too soon, it added to their mingling body heat, creating an inferno.