At the very least he’d wanted to frighten the wits out of her.
But looking at the gaunt angles of her pale face, he was shocked to realize she was near death – he could smell it, now that he was up close. Something tight and painful squeezed his chest, and immediately all the anger seeped right out of him.
What was wrong with her?
Why was she dying?
In that moment, he knew he couldn’t let her go, no matter what she’d done.
He loved her.
He was in love with Cadence LaPorte. A sense of panic wound itself from deep in his gut to wrap around his heart. Dear God, he didn’t want her to die! He needed her. He needed to hear her voice, see the determination etched on her beautiful face when she wasn’t ready to give up on something. He needed to experience the passion they shared again – and a thousand more times after that.
Could a panther cry?
Jonah hadn’t felt this close to breaking down since the day he’d killed that boy on the battlefield. He’d been doing reconnaissance behind enemy lines, when he’d spotted the confederate soldier. The man had been standing with his back to Jonah. Jonah had needed to get to an area past him and since the soldier was in his way, he had to be eliminated. In the blink of an eye, Jonah had cut the soldier’s throat.
What he hadn’t realized until he let the body fall silently to the ground was that the soldier was just a twelve-year-old boy. Jonah had dropped to his knees, vomiting in the bushes, tears streaming down his face. If he’d had the time, he’d have blubbered like a baby. As it was, he had to continue with his mission. But he’d never forgotten that boy’s face.
Cadence!
Shit. He couldn’t speak while he was in panther form. Placing his paws on the edge of the mattress, Jonah leaned in and nuzzled her cheek. She opened her eyes, turning her head on the pillow to face him. Her eyes, he noticed, were dull, like dried up old moss. There was barely a trace of that spark of life and inner strength that had been so uniquely hers.
“What is this?” she asked weakly, her voice hoarse. She gazed at his large, feline features. “Jonah? Is it you? But how—”
Maybe she hadn’t known about this.
Straining, Jonah concentrated until he changed form. Naked and kneeling at the side of the bed, he ignored the familiar shock of transforming, and gently cradled her face between his trembling hands. “Cadence,” he breathed. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and he rubbed them away with his thumbs. “It is our way,” she said, her voice reed-thin. “I didn’t think you’d come.” Her brows knit together. “What’s happened to you?”
Jonah let out a shaky laugh, lowering his hands to clasp her icy-cold ones. “We are blood bound,” he said, mimicking Ba'cho’s accent. “Ba'cho said when I took the poison from you—”
“Oh!” Cadence gasped. “I didn’t believe it. I mean, I’d heard stories, but I never thought— Oh, Jonah, I’m so sorry!”
He ignored his own predicament for the moment, asking, “What did you mean when you said, ‘It is our way’?”
“I have so much to tell you, Jonah. And you have so much to learn.”
“Will you be here to teach me?” he asked softly, concern etched on his features.
Cadence gave him a radiant smile. “I’m feeling stronger already, now that you’re here.”
“Tell me why you’re so close to dying, Cadence.”
“The night Ned Furley tried to force himself on me – the night we first made love…bound us together. It was the magic of Twelfth Moon. I felt it surround me, even though you had no idea. Since that night – because of my connection to you – it is impossible for me to live apart from you. I lose my will to live.”
“Christ, Cadence, why didn’t you tell me?
“I-I didn’t want you to stay with me out of obligation,” she said in a small voice, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. “I love you, Jonah. I understand your feelings about what I did to Robert and I-I wanted to let you go if that’s what you chose.”
She loved him. Jonah’s heart nearly burst with joy at hearing her say those words. Suddenly it didn’t matter about Robert, or Jonah’s family, or anything else. What mattered was that she loved him – and he loved her. “None of that matters to me – not any more. I love you, too, Cadence – what’s your full name, darlin’?”
Cadence laughed lightly, feeling the power of his nearness thrum through her body. “It’s Cadence Antoinette LaPorte.”
“It’s beautiful, just like you.”
“How very touching.”
Cadence gasped, and struggled to rise up onto her elbows. “What are you doing here, Itsá?”
Jonah turned in a defensive crouch toward the intruder, placing himself in front of Cadence. How had he gotten in here? Jonah wished he had a weapon, although his fists would do just as nicely. “You know him?” he asked Cadence over his shoulder.
“We’ve already met,” she said curtly.
Itsá’s gaze raked arrogantly over Jonah’s naked form. “Did I interrupt something?” His lip curled into a sneer, his voice laced with contempt. “You are puny and weak. What do you think you can do to me, white man?”
Jonah knew the man was baiting him, since they were about the same size, and Jonah’s fighting skills were not to be discounted. He laughed evilly. “Come over here and find out, izdzáníí.” It was the Apache word for woman he’d learned from Ba'cho.
With a growl, Itsá moved forward. “No, Jonah!” Cadence cried out. “Don’t let him touch you!”
It was too late. Jonah sprang at Itsá, snarling as the two of them met. Jonah’s fist made contact with Itsá’s face, making the Ba'cho look-a-like stagger and drop down on one knee. Jonah’s satisfaction was short-lived, however, when he felt a sudden and overwhelming weakness flood his limbs. He fell to the floor, his entire body racked with such intense pain he no longer had control over his human form and immediately shifted into the panther.
Jaelene burst through the door, Kara on her heels.
“What the devil is going on in here?” Kara demanded, sidestepping around Jaelene, who stood frozen in place. Kara’s gaze shot to Itsá, her eyes narrowing as she looked from him to Jaelene, who was staring as intently at the Indian as he was at her.
“Get Ba'cho, quickly!” Cadence cried. She watched in horror as Jonah writhed in agony, his large paws twitching. She was stronger now that he was near, but she still hadn’t the strength to leave the bed and go to him – to comfort him.
Kara’s eyes widened with shock, taking in the sight of a strange panther convulsing on the floor, but she barely hesitated before turning and running from the room.
Jaelene’s face showed her astonishment as she looked at Itsá. “You!” she breathed.
What was this? Had Jaelene had a vision about Itsá?
Itsá’s golden eyes flashed in appreciation, his gaze slowly raking over Jaelene’s pale hair, then down her nightgown-clad body. “What a shame I cannot touch you, Tł'é'na'áí Izdzáníí,” he said in his strange accent, his voice deep and rich as velvet, “for there are many pleasurable things I could show you.”
Cadence snorted. Hadn’t he said something very similar to her not too long ago? It didn’t matter – they both ignored her.
“What did you call me?” Jaelene demanded breathlessly.
“Moon Woman,” he replied with a wicked grin.
A blush appeared on Jaelene’s cheeks, but her voice came out strong. “We have a destiny, you and I, much as I loath to admit. The evil that resides inside you must find another vessel.”
“You will not change me,” Itsá snarled at Jaelene. His eyes flared, glowing with an otherworldly fire. “I will destroy you first.” He took a step in her direction, holding his hand out toward her.
Nineteen
CADENCE COULDN’T ALLOW Itsá to touch Jaelene! Remembering the words Ba'cho had used to make Itsá vanish, she shouted, “Deeyá, Itsá!”
He
disappeared instantly.
Cadence looked at Jaelene, who stood like a statue, her face flushed. What was wrong with her? “Jaelene?”
Jaelene took a shaky breath, ignoring Cadence’s query. “Is this Jonah?” she asked, turning and kneeling down by the panther. She placed her hand on his side, trying to sooth him.
“Yes.”
“What did Itsá do to him?”
“His touch is deadly,” Cadence answered. “When he stole a sacred object, he took evil into his heart.”
Jaelene rubbed her palms over Jonah’s soft fur. He continued to thrash, panting harshly. “Why did I not see this?” she said absently.
Cadence was confused. “Are you talking about Itsá, or Jonah?”
“Oh, I’ve known of Itsá since I was a child.”
That was a surprising revelation. “And Jonah?” Cadence prompted.
“I don’t understand it. For some reason, the knowledge of his transformation was kept from me, as well as Itsá’s deadly touch.” Jaelene sounded incredibly sad about that last part.
How odd that Ba'cho had been dreaming of Jaelene for a hundred years, and now to learn that Jaelene had experienced visions of Itsá since she was child. The three of them were obviously connected somehow – in a big way.
“He’s the first male to ever become the Pantere,” Cadence said. “What can it mean?”
“It means the spell has changed – the rules have changed. You and Jonah are the first male and female shape-shifters to mate. Your offspring will be a new generation of Pantera.”
Before Cadence could respond, Ba'cho burst through the doorway. He dropped to his knees close to Jonah, who was now wheezing with every labored breath.
That could not be a good sign.
Ba'cho’s gaze shifted to Jaelene. His admiration of her beauty was evident in the flash of desire in his dark eyes. Used to such regard, Jaelene ignored him, rose to her feet, and moved out of his way. Kara, having followed Ba'cho into the room, now stood in the shadows. She made a noise of disgust. Ba'cho glanced in her direction, his expression like that of a parent about to reprimand a recalcitrant child, but he said nothing.
Kara said nothing. She stood with her arms crossed, eyes narrowed, glaring at Ba'cho.
What was going on between those two?
Ba'cho turned his attention back to Jonah. He retrieved the same stone he’d used to cure Cadence when Itsá had touched her, placing it on the panther’s forehead. He began to chant and before long, Jonah’s breathing eased. When it looked as though Jonah was completely free of Itsá’s poison, Ba'cho again spoke in his language.
Instantly, Jonah returned to his human form. He sat up, his long legs sprawled out in front of him. He quickly covered his groin with his hands as best he could, but not before Kara and Jaelene squeaked in tandem from the eyeful they received. Ba'cho grinned as Kara covered her eyes, and Jaelene, keeping her gaze averted, moved to grab a quilt that was draped over the back of a rocking chair. Without looking at him, she tossed the quilt in Jonah’s direction.
Feeling a sudden rush of jubilation, Cadence let out a burst of laughter.
Everyone turned to stare at her. When Jonah stood, one hand holding the colorful patchwork quilt draped around his hips, she laughed even harder. She wasn’t sure why she found the situation so funny, especially after everything she’d been through, not to mention the fact that Jonah could have died. But it felt so good to be alive! Jonah had come back for her. The implication of that in itself filled her with utter joy. And he was alive and well, thanks to Ba'cho’s help.
Every moment that passed since Jonah had arrived, Cadence felt herself growing stronger, the power of their bond flowing through her veins, revitalizing her.
“Who was that and what the hell just happened?” Jonah growled, his expression stormy.
Cadence ceased her laughing to explain. “That was Itsá. When you came into contact with him, you were poisoned. His touch causes extreme pain and eventually death.”
“The pain part I can believe,” Jonah said dryly. “But why am I not dead?”
“Ba'cho cured you with his special stone,” Cadence answered.
Jonah turned toward Ba'cho. “I won’t even ask what that means, but thank you.”
Ba'cho dipped his head in acceptance of Jonah’s thanks. “For Ndołkah to live, so must you.”
Jonah looked perturbed, but grudgingly admitted, “I’m beginning to understand more about that, at least.”
“Why does Itsá keep appearing?” Cadence asked Ba'cho. “What does he want with me?”
“It is not you,” Ba'cho replied. “It is your sister he wants.”
Everyone turned toward Jaelene, who seemed unaffected by Ba'cho’s pronouncement.
“He knows she’s the only one who can help us,” Ba'cho explained, his gaze fixed on Jaelene.
“Well, he can’t have her,” Kara said defiantly.
“If all of you don’t mind,” Jonah broke in, “I’d like to be alone with Cadence.”
“Yes, I think proper introductions can wait until morning,” Cadence said with a slight smile.
Ba'cho’s grin showed his amusement at Jonah’s request. Jaelene looked distracted by her own inner thoughts.
Kara scowled in disapproval. “We’re not leaving Cadence alone with you,” she said darkly. “Especially in your current—” She waved a hand to indicate Jonah’s lack of clothing, “—state of déshabillé.”
Jaelene blinked, apparently snapping out of her musings. “They’re bonded, Kara,” she said, taking her sister’s arm and pulling her from the room. “They belong together. Let’s leave them alone, shall we?”
Ba'cho turned to Kara. “One as young as you would not understand a man’s nature to mate with his woman and his woman’s willingness to allow him to enter her body.”
Kara gasped loudly, her face turning red.
“Ba'cho,” Jaelene reprimanded softly, linking her arm with Kara’s in a protective gesture, “that was completely inappropriate and you know it.” Without waiting for a response, she ushered Kara from the room.
“There is nothing wrong with stating the truth,” Ba'cho said, his tone unrepentant.
Cadence stifled a chuckle, instead saying sternly, “Yes, but Kara is young – and she’s innocent.” She added with emphasis, “And she’s my baby sister.”
“My apologies, Ndołkah,” Ba'cho said, his voice softening with respect.
“Just be careful with her,” Cadence warned. “She’s very passionate about protecting those she loves.”
Ba'cho’s eyes glinted with an odd light, and then it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Your human form will hold for several hours,” he said to Jonah. “After that, you will return to having difficulty maintaining it.” His gaze shifted to Cadence. “You will need to teach him how to control his new gift.”
Jonah snorted.
“I will,” Cadence said.
Ba'cho nodded politely and left the room.
They were finally alone again.
Cadence tossed aside the blanket, leapt from the bed, and rushed into Jonah’s arms. They tightened around her. “What are you doing?” he said into her hair. “Not long ago, you were near death. You should be resting.”
“I’ve rested enough, I think.” Cadence rose up on her toes and lifted her hands, sliding them over his shoulders, savoring the contours of hard muscle over satin skin. Her nipples spiked as they made contact with his naked chest, the thin cloth of her nightgown the only thing separating them. She could feel the distinct ridge of his manhood pressing just above the juncture of her thighs. “Besides, I’m much better now.” She strained to catch her breath. “Since you returned to me, my health has improved, and I’ve grown stronger.”
Her heart was pounding, her breathing became heavier, and her skin grew hot enough to serve as tinder for a fire. She was already wet and ready for him – to join with her one true mate. She wanted to raise the hem of her nightgown and climb his big body so she could sea
t herself on the swollen crown of his shaft. She would ride him up and down until they both cried out in ecstasy.
“I’m sorry, Hellcat,” he said low, “that I was the cause of your pain.”
“You didn’t know,” Cadence whispered.
He nuzzled her neck and inhaled deeply. “Mmm, you smell…good.”
Jonah felt like growling, his feral instincts rising to the surface.
Take her!
It was a primal command.
His newly acquired senses purred in a state of heightened awareness, luxuriating in her nearness. He wanted to taste her, to lick every inch of her delectable skin, devour her. He wanted to put his mark on her, so every other male would know she belonged to him.
He pressed his hips into hers and groaned. His mouth found the side of her neck and he sucked – hard – bringing blood to the surface. She gasped, and then moaned huskily, rubbing herself more fully against him. Filled with male satisfaction at the results, which was a deep red bruise, he ran his tongue slowly over the spot, licking her heated skin.
His cock, which was already hard enough to pound a fence post into the ground, hardened even more as she increased the pressure of her hips. A burst of savage lust slammed through his veins and all he wanted was to get inside her – to thrust like an animal – in and out of her hot, wet core.
His ears pricked. He could hear the blood rushing through her veins, felt her quickened heartbeat. Her pulse beat in tandem with his and he could smell the musky scent of her arousal. Unable to wait another minute to have her, he grasped the collar of her nightgown and ripped. The sound of fabric rending echoed in the room as he tore the garment from her body. He tossed the tattered pieces aside, and then removed the quilt from around his hips. His hands gripped her waist and he lifted her. Her lovely thighs opened and rode his hips while her hands clamped onto his shoulders. Her green eyes were glowing and he wondered if his did as well. “Your eyes,” he said thickly. “They’re glowing.”
Twelfth Moon Page 19