Hunted by a Jaguar

by Felicity Heaton

  Beyond that fence spread the ruins of a great civilisation.

  Kyter slowed to a halt as his gaze scanned over the large archaeological site. He leaned against the top bar of the fence for a moment, marvelling at the arid ruins.

  He hadn’t expected it to look so well preserved, with so many structures still standing. Some even had roofs over them that weren’t modern additions to protect the interiors. Paved roads intersected the stone buildings, complete with high pavements. Incredible.

  There was a steep incline down to the site on all sides and only one way of entering via a walkway over at the far side, in the left corner diagonally across from him. There was bound to be security there.

  He clambered over the top horizontal pole of the fence in front of him and kicked off, easily clearing the steep grassy bank and landing hard on a broad flat balcony in front of one of the sets of buildings. His legs ached from the impact and he grunted and grimaced as he rose onto his feet. He was out of practice. Was a time he could’ve made a jump twice that distance and a fall three times further without even wincing on landing.

  Kyter stretched, taking pleasure from it as he raised his arms above his head, his hands locked together, and took in his surroundings. He wasn’t sure where to begin. He had picked this site over its more famous neighbour, Pompeii, purely because it was closer to Naples. He took his backpack off one shoulder, let it swing beneath his arm, and unzipped the front pocket. He pulled out the guidebook he had purchased in the airport, opened it on the map he had bookmarked, and studied it.

  For ten minutes.

  Nope. He didn’t have a damn clue where he was on it and where he was going. He hopped another smaller fence around the balcony, walked along the top of a section of wall, and then jumped down onto a main street in the ruins.

  He tried to follow the map, but the place was a maze of sites, all marked in Italian on the crumbling walls next to iron gates that stopped people from entering them. He stopped at each sign, trying to match it up to the one he was looking for, working his way along the rows of buildings as the light began to fade.

  Around the corner of one row, he found a building that had lost half of its walls and his eyebrows shot up. There was a bench and jars set into the ground. A store? Maybe a bar. He liked the idea of ancient Romans all hanging out at a bar and living it up. It probably hadn’t been all that fun when the volcano had erupted though.

  Vesuvius loomed in the distance, awash with gold as the sun cast dying rays over it.

  The poor bastards probably hadn’t stood a chance.

  All the crazy mortals who lived in its shadow probably wouldn’t stand a chance when it went off again either.

  He turned away from the possible bar and frowned as a shadowy figure crossed the street far ahead of him, disappearing beyond another building. A security guard?

  Kyter tipped his head back and sniffed, catching their scent on the hot still air.

  His eyes widened.

  The woman from the fae town.

  He had managed to catch her scent when he had gone into the building she had exited to meet with the same demon. She smelled like the flowers in the rainforest. Exotic and alluring, and beautiful.

  He took a step in her direction before he caught himself. He curled his fingers into fists and clenched them. He wasn’t here to hunt her. He was here to hunt his father and he couldn’t forget that. He pressed one hand to his chest, over a heart that burned with cold hatred for the demon who had dared to take his mother from him and kill so many of his pride.

  The woman from the fae town wasn’t a female to pursue.

  She was an enemy, and the quicker his body and his mind got that message, the better. It didn’t matter that she was breathtaking, or that she stirred his jaguar side and brought it to the fore, awakening a deep instinct to stalk her as if she were prey, something that had never happened to him before.

  She was after the same thing as he was and he couldn’t let her have it.

  He tracked her from a distance, following her scent as he moved through the ruins. He needed to know if she was looking in the location he had been searching for. If she was, he would drive her away.

  Her scent grew stronger, a sign that she had been to the area more than once in the past few hours. He slowed his approach when his sensitive ears caught the sound of her breaths and softened his steps, moving silently towards her location.

  She was inside the next building, a pale stone affair with several columns made of brick lining the street outside it.

  Kyter stalked towards the entrance, his breathing stilled to conceal his presence. He wasn’t sure what species she was, but too many had heightened hearing for him to risk breathing.

  He peered into the building, his eyes rapidly adjusting to the darkness. She stood at the far end, hefting a pick above her head and bringing it down with force. Sparks flew as it struck the stone floor. She hadn’t had the tool a moment ago. Had it been in the room? How long had she been here?

  The size of the hole she had already dug said that it had been a while. She must have snuck in before the site had closed for the day and started work as soon as the last visitor had left.

  She paused and set her pick down, resting it against her leg.

  Kyter stared, mesmerised as she twirled her long black hair up into a knot and stabbed an elegant silver pin through it. He didn’t doubt that she could use that as a weapon in a pinch. She seemed irritatingly resourceful. How the hell had she beaten him to the site? Mercs often had money. Maybe she had a private jet.

  She huffed and lifted her hand, and wiped her forearm across her brow. Sweat trickled down her back between her shoulders, turning her perfectly pale skin shiny and soaking into her flimsy black camisole. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who didn’t take well to high temperatures. He cocked his head to one side and raked his gaze down her spine. Was she from cooler climes? She was too pale to come from a hot country like this one.

  He ducked behind the wall when she turned towards him. His heart hammered against his chest, his gaze locked on the column opposite him. He had moved fast, but not swiftly enough that he hadn’t caught sight of the beads of sweat rolling down her chest and slipping into the valley between her breasts.

  Kyter swallowed hard.

  The jaguar side of him growled low and the rumble of appreciation almost made it past his lips.

  He dug his claws into the palms of his hands, using the pain to tamp down his desire, and listened hard to his prey. The pick struck the stone again. He shifted a few steps to his left, away from the door, and eyed the sign on the wall. It wasn’t the building he was looking for. She had a reprieve. There was no point in confronting her and letting her know he was there until it was absolutely necessary.

  He brazenly walked past the door, looking in at her, unable to stop himself from taking in her luscious curves as she worked before he moved on. He checked his map again, found the building she was working in, and followed the paved roads up the hill towards the back of the site.

  Kyter grinned when he finally found the building he had been searching for. He walked into the larger building, immediately breathing a sigh of sweet relief as cooler air greeted him. It was dark inside with the fading light, but the modern roof over the series of rooms was raised around a foot off the structure, creating an opening through which a modest amount of light could enter. He used his heightened vision to navigate the rooms, seeking the one he had read about.

  He found it in the largest room. Half of it was divided into three square rooms by two thick walls. The section to the right had been walled in again, but the parts in the middle and to the left were open. The central part was the reason he had come to this place.

  Two columns covered in white and red plaster stood at the end of the walls that enclosed what appeared to be a sort of ancient chapel. The floor in the area there was raised up two steps and the three walls had been painted. Directly ahead of him, in the back wall, there was an arch, and blue
and white panels decorated the plaster. There was a small stone plinth in the centre of the arch, as if something sacred or important had once been placed there.

  It was the wall to his left that held his attention. The plaster had been decorated with white and grey columns and arches painted on a red background. In the central area of the wall, someone had painted a picture on a white square surrounded by mottled blue and red.

  Ancient goddesses and a god.

  The answer to the clue the demon had given to him.

  The hairs on the back of Kyter’s neck prickled and he turned swiftly to face the person behind him.

  The female from the fae town stood in the middle of the dusty empty room, a short black blade balanced on her left shoulder and her green eyes filled with a spark of curiosity as she studied him from head to toe.

  He shifted his feet into a more solid stance and debated whether he could reach for his backpack and retrieve his knife before she could attack him.

  She canted her head towards her blade. “What are you doing here? The site is closed.”

  Kyter slowly shrugged out of his backpack and let it fall at his heels.

  She dropped her eyes to it and then lifted them back to his face, her green gaze piercing his. “I know you understand English. I heard you muttering to yourself outside where I was working.”

  She had better hearing than he had anticipated, and he clearly had less control over his mouth than he had believed. He hadn’t even realised he had muttered to himself after catching a glimpse of the sweat rolling down between her breasts.

  His gaze betrayed him and dropped to her chest. A darker V had formed on the black camisole there, luring his eyes to that spot. He forced them to drop lower, taking in the rest of her, allowing his gaze to do a slow leisurely dance over her dangerous curves.

  “You don’t look like an archaeologist.” He dragged his eyes back up to her face, pretending not to notice that the temperature in the room had just risen by around fifty degrees. Or maybe it was just his blood. “So… same question back at you. What are you doing here when the site is closed?”

  She smiled and raked her gaze over him again, setting his blood on fire. She had to stop doing that. Whenever her eyes did a slow once over of his body, his instincts roared to the fore and he wanted to stalk towards her, grab the back of her neck and drag her against him to show her just how hard the body she was eyeing was beneath all his clothes.

  “I asked first.” She lowered the blade to her side.

  Kyter stepped back, over his pack, pretending he was doing it to keep his distance from her weapon. He hadn’t zipped the front pocket completely closed when he had taken the guidebook out. His knife was in there. He probably had a fifty percent chance of reaching it before she reached him. He had a better chance if he shifted. It might catch her off guard, giving him extra seconds in which to complete his transformation and take her down.

  But he couldn’t shift yet.

  Tradition said he had to wait a period of a month before he could shift and give in to his need to grieve in his jaguar form.

  “What are you doing here?” Her tone gained a sharp edge, one that matched her blade. It seemed the mysterious female didn’t have much in the way of patience.

  He raised his hand and waggled the guidebook he held in it. “I was admiring the fresco.”

  She looked beyond him and then back at him. “It was more beautiful before.”

  “Before?” He frowned and edged his feet further apart, shuffling back half a step at the same time so he could come down straight on top of the pack when he went for his knife.

  “Before Vesuvius erupted,” she said flatly. “It was more beautiful. The whole town was.”

  Kyter was unsure whether to believe she was saying what he thought she was.

  She had been here, before the volcano had erupted.

  He wanted to laugh at that. He had to have heard her wrong, or misinterpreted what she had said. Maybe something had happened to the fresco since they had uncovered it years ago or she was talking theoretically. Yeah. That was it. She was being theoretical. Of course the whole town had been more beautiful before it had been covered in ash and buried for centuries.

  He couldn’t quite convince himself to believe that and his instincts said not to let this chance to get some information out of her slip through his hands. He had a golden opportunity to find out whether she was implying that she was a few millennia old. It would certainly narrow down her potential species to a number he could probably count on his hands and toes.

  “I’m no scholar, but didn’t Vesuvius erupt like a couple of thousand years ago?”

  She smiled and it hit him hard in the chest. “It did. In seventy-nine AD in fact. Thankfully, I was not here at the time. It was a shame what happened. It was a truly beautiful place.”

  Kyter stared at her. Gawped if he was feeling honest about it. She was over two thousand years old. What the hell was she? She didn’t look a day over thirty.

  Sorceress? He couldn’t scent any magic on her, but maybe she had cast a spell on him the moment he had set eyes on her. He certainly felt as if she had.

  Siren? She didn’t strike him as one of that kind, although she did seem to have a hold over him, a magnetic pull that he found difficult to resist, one he felt might spell his doom.

  Angel? She was beautiful enough to be something as ethereal as one of that kind.

  Her green eyes narrowed as her black eyebrows dipped low above them.

  All of the light left her expression, leaving it as cold as stone. “I will not ask you again. Why are you really here? I sensed you in the fae town.”

  Busted. He had thought he had been subtle when tracking her. The only explanation he could come up with was one based on what she had said. Sensed. She had sensed, not seen him. He had been staring at her a lot that night, his focus locked with intent on her. He had stared at her in the same way when she had appeared before him tonight. She must have put two and two together. Clever little kitty.

  Kyter adopted a crooked smile, one that normally worked like a charm on the ladies. “You got me. I’m looking for something.”

  Her fine eyebrows rose. “That is strange. So am I.”

  She swiftly pointed her blade at him, her eyes narrowed again and her rosy lips compressed into a dangerously thin line.

  “Stay out of my way. I will not allow you to interfere in my business.”

  Kyter growled low in his throat. “This is more than business to me.”

  He had been right. She was a goddamned mercenary. A treasure hunter looking for a score.

  She didn’t waver as he stared her down, no longer hiding his anger, aiming all of it at her.

  Her blade remained steady. Not even the point shifted.

  The jaguar side of him appreciated her grace and strength, and he wanted to growl at her for a whole different reason as he raked his eyes over her, recalling how she had moved through the crowd in the fae town. An agile and beautiful female.

  The tip of her blade dipped.

  His gaze darted to hers and he caught the brief flash of colour on her cheeks. It seemed the little kitty wasn’t as unflappable as he had thought. He could affect her.

  Kyter stepped over his backpack, narrowing the distance between them. She stepped back to keep it steady.

  “Give up your quest,” she said, her tone steady even though her heartbeat had just picked up in his ears. “I will not tolerate interference in my business. Leave.”

  He lifted his shoulders and her gaze briefly dipped to them before leaping back to his.

  “You don’t own the place, or whatever it is you’re after, so you can’t tell me what to do. How about you stay out of my business? I won’t tolerate your interference. This is my territory now.”

  Her eyes widened a fraction before narrowing on him again. “You will regret your actions.”

  Kyter looked back over his shoulder at the fresco. He had a feeling he was in the right place and that
was why she wanted him away from it. She knew something he didn’t though. It was there in her eyes. If she knew the city, then she had the advantage. He needed that advantage.

  She wasn’t impenetrable. He could affect her.

  He had made her blush.

  He wasn’t above playing on that to get what he wanted from her.

  CHAPTER 5

  Kyter took a step back, his boots scuffing across the dusty stone floor in the old empty building, stooped and unzipped the main compartment of his backpack. He set down his guidebook, took out his canteen and straightened. The female eyed him, her blade still held at the ready. At least she hadn’t attacked when he had feigned dropping his guard.

  He unscrewed the cap on his canteen and then put it back on as an idea came to him.

  He set the canteen down on his backpack. Stood and stared across the narrow strip of ground to the female, making sure he had the whole of her attention. When he had assured himself that she was still staring at him, he grabbed the hem of his black t-shirt and pulled it up.

  Her eyes shot wide.

  “Wh-what do you think you are doing?” She edged back a step and her blade dropped a few inches before it came back up.

  He smirked and pulled the top off over his head, taking his time about it and giving her a nice, leisurely look at his stomach and chest. He dropped the black tee on his pack and she stared at him. No blush. No problem. He could get one out of her.

  He swiped the canteen from beneath his tee, unscrewed the cap and raised it above his head. He tipped half of the contents over the longer tufts of his short sandy hair. Water ran down his face and throat and over his chest, blissfully cool against his hot skin.

  She stammered. “What… I… what?”

  Kyter shot her his best smile as he scrubbed his hand over his hair, tousling the wet strands and squeezing more water from them. It ran in rivulets down his face and his body.

  A blush scalded her cheeks.

  “I’m hot,” he murmured and rubbed the water into his bare chest. “And a little dusty. I’m remedying that.”