Talon/Xavier (Bayou Heat)

by Laura Wright

  Raphael had also been the one to take him to The Cougar’s Den and get him cross-eyed drunk when the cute little female he’d been chasing decided to dump him for another male.

  Talon trusted this man above anyone else in the world.

  There was a shimmering swirl of color before Raphael shifted into his human form, dressed like Talon in faded jeans and T-shirt.

  A tall man with chiseled muscles, Raphael had a golden beauty that had driven females wild. At least until he’d stunned them all by arriving back at the Wildlands with a mate who was already carrying his young.

  It was a miracle.

  As long as they could keep Ashe and her baby alive.

  Which was why Talon had been sent to track down the traitors.

  “Welcome home, Talon,” Raphael murmured, his lean face too pale and his golden eyes shadowed with the brutal fear that was threatening to destroy him.

  “Why the welcome committee?” Talon demanded.

  “We need to speak.” Raphael’s tone was flat. A sure sign his emotions were on the edge of a meltdown. He snapped his fingers and Sebastian appeared at his side. The Suit was a bronze-skinned male with glowing hazel eyes and a chiseled body that proved he didn’t spend much time sitting behind a desk. His tawny hair was threaded with gold and brushed his broad shoulders. “Take the prisoners to the elders.”

  Talon tossed the chains toward Sebastian who curled his lips to growl at the cringing prisoners. Next, Talon shoved the backpack that held the computers and file folders into the Suit’s hand.

  “These need to go to Xavier,” he said, referring to the brilliant head of the Geeks. If anyone could coax information out of the computers it would be Xavier.

  Sebastian gave an unnecessary jerk on the chains, leading the prisoners away just as Raphael nodded his head toward a thick grove of cypress trees.

  “This way,” the Suit commanded.

  Following in Raphael’s wake, Talon studied the tense set of the older man’s shoulders and the manner in which he turned his head from side to side, as if searching for hidden enemies.

  “This speaking doesn’t involve dungeons and chains, does it?” Talon muttered, not entirely joking.

  Raphael sent a puzzled glance over his shoulder. “We don’t have dungeons.”

  Talon grimaced, shoving his way past the veil of Spanish moss to step into the small clearing in the center of the trees.

  “We didn’t when I left, but things are clearly changing,” he pointed out in dry tones.

  “Unfortunately,” Raphael agreed, restlessly pacing over the spongy ground.

  Talon rolled his weary shoulders, sensing he wasn’t going to see his bed anytime soon. “What did I miss?”

  Raphael turned to meet his worried gaze. “You were already on the hunt when Jean-Baptiste returned with the female voodoun.”

  Talon nodded. He’d known the male Healer had gone to fetch the human female, but he’d been headed out of the Wildlands before Jean-Baptiste returned.

  “Did she help Ashe?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Thank the goddess,” Talon breathed, relief shuddering through him.

  Raphael’s mate carried the future of the Pantera within her fragile womb. The knowledge that they’d allowed their enemies close enough to put her and the babe in danger laid heavily on all of them.

  “Don’t give thanks yet,” Raphael warned.

  “Why?”

  The leader of the Suits scrubbed his hands over his face. Talon wondered when he’d last slept.

  Probably not since Ashe had been attacked and infected with some potent toxin.

  “I need to start at the beginning,” Raphael growled.

  “Here.” Talon pulled out his silver flask filled with Don Julio tequila and tossed it toward his friend. “Tell me.”

  Raphael took a drink, grimacing as the expensive tequila slid down his throat. “As I said, Jean-Baptiste brought Isi to the Wildlands.” Another grimace. “Much against her will.”

  Talon arched a brow. “She’s prejudiced against the Pantera?”

  “No. For some reason the Wildlands make her ill.”

  The Wildlands making someone ill? That was weird.

  “I’ve never heard of that before,” Talon said. “Of course, I don’t have enough interest in humans to know what makes them sick.”

  “None of us have.”

  Talon shrugged. He didn’t really care if she was sick or not. Nothing mattered but Ashe and the baby.

  “Did she have a potion for Ashe?”

  Raphael turned to glance at the heavy layers of moss that kept them hidden from the rest of the swamp, sending a chill of fear down Talon’s spine.

  Was he afraid someone was trying to spy on them?

  Were there more traitors?

  Shit.

  “Actually her mere presence seems to give Ashe strength,” he at last said, his voice low.

  Okay. That seemed a good thing.

  So why wasn’t Raphael happier?

  “I don’t understand,” Talon admitted.

  Raphael returned to his pacing. “The Healers suspect that the toxin in Ashe’s blood is targeted to attack the babe. It’s taking every ounce of her strength to protect her child.”

  “That makes sense,” Talon said. He’d already heard the poison was manifesting itself like a possession, with an intelligent design to destroy the baby. “What does the female have to do with it?”

  “Having her near appears to…” Raphael searched for the word to describe the female’s effect on his mate. “Steady Ashe.”

  “Steady?”

  “It’s almost as if she gives Ashe more strength.”

  Talon frowned. He didn’t doubt the power of the voodoun. The spiritual world was a powerful force. But he’d always thought they needed potions and spells and rituals to weave their magic.

  “She helps by being in the same room?” he demanded.

  “She helps just being in the Wildlands.”

  Talon shook his head. He didn’t like the thought that the female could somehow tamper with Ashe by her mere presence.

  It was one thing to stir up a potion. Or even do one of those mysterious rituals they seemed to love.

  But this…it was strange.

  And he didn’t trust strange.

  “Do the Healers know why?”

  Raphael’s expression tightened, his eyes glowing gold with the power of his cat. “They’re divided.”

  “Why do I sense I’m not going to like this?”

  “Because you won’t,” Raphael said bluntly, halting his pacing to meet Talon’s wary gaze. “Isi is Ashe’s sister.”

  Talon blinked, his brain struggling to process the words.

  “Sister?”

  “Her twin sister.”

  Twin sister. God almighty.

  “I thought you said Ashe’s only relative was a drunkard mother,” Talon said.

  “That’s what Ashe had always been told.”

  Talon narrowed his gaze, his vague unease solidifying into ruthless suspicion.

  “And now this Isi claims to be her long-lost sister?”

  Raphael shook his head. “No. The DNA revealed their connection.”

  The scientific proof of the two women’s biological connection did nothing to ease Talon’s distrust. Hell, it only made him more skeptical.

  “That’s one hell of a coincidence,” he muttered.

  “Yeah, that was my thought.” Raphael shoved his fingers through his hair. “And it gets worse.”

  Talon rolled his eyes. When were things not getting worse?

  “Great.”

  “The elders are convinced that Isi is some prophesied agent of doom.”

  Talon made a sound of disbelief at the cheesy, sci-fi description. He might even have laughed if it hadn’t been for Raphael’s grim expression. He had a feeling a laugh would earn him an ass-kicking even worse than the time he’d set up a moonshine still in the caves and sold the potent liquor to his
classmates. How was he supposed to know he’d brewed the alcohol so pure it would make them sicker than dogs?

  “Now you’re just screwing with me,” he instead growled.

  “I wish I was,” Raphael muttered. “The elders claim that Isi and Ashe’s father was the Pantera Shaman.”

  It took a minute for Talon to recall the human who had once been called on by the elders to reveal the faction of an unborn Pantera. There were also rumors he’d had visions of the future.

  It’d been years since Talon had last seen him.

  He at last managed to dig the name from his memories.

  “Chayton?”

  “Yes.”

  “Didn’t he die?”

  Raphael grimaced. “The elders assumed he had.”

  Talon made a sound of disbelief. The elders rarely made mistakes.

  Or maybe they just never admitted to them.

  “Go on,” he urged.

  “They said that Chayton had a vision that his first born child would destroy the Wildlands,” Raphael said, a hint of pity in his voice for the man who must have been devastated to reveal that his own daughter was born to be a force for evil.

  Talon was far less sympathetic. He wasn’t a firm believer in prophecies. There were too many ways they could be interpreted to offer a blueprint for the future.

  But if the first born child was a danger to his people, he damned well intended to stop her.

  “Isi was the first born?”

  Raphael gave a sharp nod. “After the vision, Chayton took his pregnant wife and fled to the north of the state. The babes were just being born when the elders tracked them down.”

  “They intended to sacrifice the child.” The words were a statement, not a question.

  The elders weren’t the sort of females to wait and see if something might become a problem. They were firm believers in preemptive strikes.

  “They did, but Chayton managed to distract them long enough to slip away,” Raphael revealed. “The Hunters found traces of blood and a baby blanket, but no sign of the Shaman. When Dixie returned to La Pierre with Ashe the Elders kept a close guard on Dixie expecting Chayton to try and contact her if he remained alive. When the years passed with no word from the Shaman the Elders assumed he and the babe had died.”

  The Shaman had to have been extremely talented or extremely lucky to have escaped the elders for so long.

  “Ashe knew nothing about her father?” he asked.

  “No.” Raphael narrowed his gaze, as if daring the younger man to call his mate a liar. Yeah. Talon was more likely to stick his head in the mouth of a gator. “The elders obviously tampered with Dixie’s mind, forcing her to believe she only had one child and that her husband abandoned her.”

  Talon shuddered. Mind alterations on such a large scale could be extremely destructive to humans.

  “Maybe it’s not so surprising she turned to booze,” he said. “What was the elders’ response to Isi’s arrival?”

  “Cataclysmic.” The lean features tightened. No doubt Raphael had been at the epicenter of that cataclysmic response. “They arrived at Ashe’s room once the DNA results revealed her connection to Isi. Until that point they’d assumed that Isi’s only threat was her connection to her voodoo shop.”

  Talon wasn’t expecting that.

  “They knew about her?”

  “They’ve been keeping a careful watch on artists who specialize in tattoos with malachite.”

  Ah. Talon had to admit it was a reasonable precaution. The mineral was used to ground a cat inside a Pantera’s body. Or for Nurturer therapists to soothe patients who couldn’t control their minds or their cats. And, of course, the elders used it as punishment to cage a Pantera.

  “Only a person with intimate knowledge of our cats would understand the magical properties of the mineral,” he pointed out.

  “There’s also this.”

  Reaching into his pocket, Raphael pulled out his phone and flicked through the photos. Finding the one he was searching for, he turned the phone so Talon could see the image.

  Talon leaned forward, easily determining the picture had been taken on the streets of New Orleans. It appeared to be a small store. The sort you could find in any narrow street or alleyway. The only thing to make it stand out was the blood-red shingle that read, THE CARE AND FEEDING OF VOODOO.

  “I assume this is Isi’s shop?” he demanded, not entirely sure what he was supposed to be seeing.

  “Yes. And this is her vehicle.”

  Raphael zoomed the photo until Talon could see the white van parked in front of the store, the emblem of a spread-winged raven flying across a full moon painted on the side.

  A low growl trickled from Talon’s throat at the unmistakable Mark of Shakpi.

  “Shit.” He glanced up at Raphael’s bleak face. “Do they intend to kill her?”

  The golden eyes glowed with a dangerous determination. “Not as long as I keep them away.”

  Talon frowned. Raphael was usually the levelheaded one. The one who looked at every situation with a cool logic that was as annoying as hell.

  Now, Talon couldn’t help but worry that his friend was allowing his devotion to his mate to blind him to the potential danger of having Isi so near.

  “Look, Raphael, I get that she’s related to your mate, but if she’s one of our enemies—”

  “I don’t give a shit if she’s related or not,” Raphael sharply interrupted. “Her presence is helping Ashe fight back the toxin.”

  Talon chose his words with care. Raphael was on the edge of snapping. He didn’t want to be the one to tip him into a homicidal rage.

  Not when he was standing only a few feet away.

  “You’re sure it’s not some trick?”

  “I’m not sure of anything.” Raphael gave a low growl of frustration. “But know this, I’ll do whatever is necessary to protect my mate and child.”

  Talon swallowed the words of warning that trembled on his lips.

  They were a waste of breath as long as Raphael truly believed Isi was able to help his family.

  “As we all will,” he instead muttered, his tone grudging.

  The golden gaze narrowed, the air prickling with the heat of Raphael’s cat. “I hope you mean that.”

  “Why?”

  “I have placed Isi under my protection, but I don’t trust the elders,” the older man bluntly confessed. “They’re convinced she’s the doom of the Pantera. They’ll kill her if they get the opportunity.”

  That didn’t seem like a bad plan to Talon. With Isi dead, then they could return to finding a less risky way to protect Ashe and the babe.

  But his loyalty belonged to Raphael.

  There was nothing he wouldn’t do for the leader of the Suits.

  “What do you want from me?” he asked.

  “We haven’t been able to do more than moderate Isi’s illness.”

  Talon grimaced. “The Wildlands are probably trying to drive her out.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Raphael waved a dismissive hand. “We had to move her to your parents’ home.”

  Talon flinched, his eyes widening.

  The pretty cottage that was hidden on the edge of the deepest marshes had been shut up the day that they received the news that Talon’s parents had been killed in an airplane crash. Talon had moved to the Hunter house, and while he visited the cottage to perform the necessary upkeep, no one had actually stayed there for years.

  He didn’t keep it as some tragic temple to his dead parents. Or at least, not intentionally.

  But he sure the hell didn’t use it as a B&B for the potential doom of his people.

  “You put her where?” he rasped, unable to believe that Raphael could be so insensitive.

  Raphael met his accusing glare with a stubborn expression. He wasn’t backing down.

  “It’s the most easily defended location,” he pointed out, referring to the marshland that was deep and thick enough to keep out all but the most determined pred
ators. “Besides, there’s something in the house that eases her sickness.”

  Talon didn’t care if it made her sprout wings and a halo.

  “You’re asking a lot, mon ami.”

  Raphael shoved his phone into his pocket and folded his arms over his chest. He’d lost weight in the past month, but he was still big, tough and capable of twisting Talon into a painful knot.

  “I’m not done,” he warned.

  Talon counted to ten.

  “What?”

  “I expect you to become her guardian.”

  Talon made a sound of shock. “Say that again.”

  The golden eyes narrowed. “You heard me.”

  He had. Unfortunately.

  “Why me?”

  “I trust you.”

  The words struck straight at his heart, and Talon threw his hands up in defeat.

  “Fuck.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  For the first time in weeks, Isi felt warm. Not just ‘wrapped in heavy blankets until she was nearly smothered’ warm. But warm from the inside out.

  And even better, the constant sense of nausea was gone.

  Completely, utterly gone.

  With a sigh she snuggled closer to the source of the warmth, breathing deeply of the intoxicating musk that was driving away the hideous illness that plagued her at varying levels of hell since she arrived in the Wildlands.

  She didn’t know what was creating the delicious scent, and she didn’t really care.

  She just wanted to wrap herself in the soothing sensations.

  As if answering her prayer, a warm hand slid down her back, cupping her ass.

  “Oh, thank god,” she groaned as the touch sent heat rushing through her veins. “Don’t stop. That feels so good.”

  “I haven’t even started, darling,” a rough male voice whispered in her ear.

  Isi was jerked out of her lovely dream, belatedly realizing she was no longer alone. What the hell? She forced open her heavy lids, her breath squeezed from her lungs as she encountered a pair of glowing golden eyes rimmed in jade.

  They were spectacular eyes.

  Clear, cunning and lethally male.

  And they were set in a face that was drop-dead, do-me-now gorgeous.

  Wide brow, a narrow blade of a nose, high cheekbones and sensually carved lips.