Paenther watched her, seeking the rush of heat that should have accompanied her words. But it was frustratingly absent. Still, she was right. The sooner he got the witchs magic out of his system, the better.
Without touching her, he led her upstairs to his bedroom, his own private sanctuary. The previous Radiant, Beatrice, had insisted on sharing her love of art with all the Ferals. Paintings of Indians on horseback covered two of his walls. But the large, rough-hewn furniture and collections of now-antique guns and arrowheads were all his.
He closed the door and watched the woman slowly strip out of the dress until she wore nothing but a pair of tiny lace panties and a bra, which left little to the imagination. Evangeline was soft and curvy, and sexy as hell. At least, hed always thought so. But as he imagined removing those scraps of lace and having his way with the womanly parts beneath, he felt nothing. His body refused to rise.
He gave a snort of disgust.
Evangeline frowned. She really has you under her spell, doesnt she?
With a growl, he closed the distance between them, turned Evangeline in his arms, pressing her back against his chest as his hands covered her full, ripe breasts. Too ripe. His hands itched to cup a pair of small breasts on a too-slender frame. Dammit.
Evangeline eased out of his arms. Close your eyes, Paenther. Maybe that will help. Close your eyes and think of her.
Evie
Do whatever it takes to get aroused, warrior. We have to clear you of her magic.
He leaned back against the door and did as she suggested, closing his eyes. The moment he did, Skyes face rose in his mind as hed first seen her. The excitement in her eyes as shed looked up from perusing the magazine and caught his gaze. He thought of the way shed looked as hed driven himself into her in the woods, her head thrown back in ecstasy.
His body rose and heated at the thought. He felt soft hands on his crotch, unzipping his pants, taking his heavy shaft into a warm palm. He arched into the touch, heat coursing through his body.
The scent of jasmine filled his senses, and he stilled, everything inside him rebelling. Jasmine, not violets.
He didnt want jasmine. He didnt wantEvangeline.
The only one who could slake this hunger was Skye.
He opened his eyes to look down at the woman preparing to take him into her mouth. Her hair was too long. Her body too lush, too ripe.
His body went soft. With a growl of disgust, he moved away from her, zipping himself back into his pants as he prowled the room like a caged and wounded animal. Dammit! He might as well still be shackled and chained to the witchs rock for all the freedom he had from her.
What do you want me to do, Paenther? Evangeline asked carefully.
I dont know. He had a beautiful, practically naked, willing woman in front of him, and direct orders from his chief to find sexual release. And he couldnt take her. He didnt want to be inside her. Not between her legs. Not in her mouth. He didnt even want her touching him.
Goddess, that witch had him screwed up.
If youre not going to let me clear you, Paenther, youll have to do it yourself. And Ill have to watch to make sure you do. We cant have the enchantment keeping you from getting cleared.
Shit.
Standing where Evangelines scent didnt overpower him, he closed his eyes and thought of Skye. Of the day he kissed her for the first time, still thinking she was human. Hed ordered Foxx back to the country store a second time, needing to see her again. He hadnt expected her to be there, but shed been waiting. And when shed slid into his arms and pressed her mouth to his
Fire erupted inside him, heating his body. As she swept her tongue into his mouth, all thought of gentleness flew from his head. He took her mouth, plundering, conquering with his tongue as he pulled her tight against him. She tasted like raindrops and smelled like violets, and all he could think of was being inside her.
Her arm slipped from around his neck and moved down to slide over that distended part of his anatomy, telling him her thoughts were as carnal and desperate as his own. He slid his palm down her thigh, then up again, lifting the skirt of her dress until he found the hem. He reached beneath, his fingers skimming her warm flesh, his hand slipping between her thighs, finding her hot, damp core.
The woman wore no undergarments.
A smile pulled at his mouth as he kissed her hard and slid a single, shaking finger deep inside her tight wet sheath.
Paenther opened his eyes and strode to the bathroom, leaving the door open as he pulled his throbbing erection out of his pants and began pumping himself off over the sink. His mind remained on Skye.
Foxx had interrupted them, or he might have taken her right there. Right then. Hed been so hard for her. And shed been so ready.
Damn the witch!
In his mind he saw her again as shed ridden him on the stone that first time, fingering herself as hed directed her to.
Goddess, shed been glorious as the passion had begun to ride her, as the cries had escaped that slender throat.
And when shed come
His body tightened as the memory of her orgasm brought on his own. With a low groan, he pumped his seed into the sink, the release satisfying in only the most basic way. Grabbing a towel, he cleaned himself off, then zipped up his pants as he glanced at Evangeline watching him from the doorway, heat in her eyes.
No matching heat rose in his body. A flare of panic ran beneath his breastbone. Hed cleared himself of the magic. It should be gone!
Reaching for Evangeline, he pulled her into his arms and released her just as quickly, wanting her even less than he had before. Skyes slender body rose in his mind, her scent the only one he craved.
Shit! He stormed past Evangeline, into the bedroom, the ever-present rage boiling his blood.
Behind him, a feminine snort of disbelief. Shes enchanted you, all right, just not with magic. Youre into her for real, warrior.
Paenther swung to face his scantily clad companion. I have not fallen for a witch!
Maybe not emotionally, but physically, you want her bad. Bad enough that no one else will do.
Paenther felt the rush of feral anger, his teeth and claws elongating, his mind spoiling for a fight. One of his brothers was about to get bloody.
Ease down, warrior, Evangeline said without fear. Itll go away, Paenther. Youre not the first male to want a female you shouldnt have. You wont be the last. Sooner or later, youll get over her.
Paenther clenched his jaw hard and nodded. Sooner, not later. He pulled himself back, retracting his fangs and claws. The best way to end this unholy infatuation was to avoid the witch altogether. The only reason hed brought her back here was to interrogate her and find out what she knew. Once theyd done that, there was nothing to keep them from destroying her. Then he knew hed get over her.
Striding back into the bathroom, he shut the door, stripped, and took a hot shower, washing the smell of the caverns and the witch off his skin. As he dried himself, he made his decision. Hed give her into Roars keeping. Let his chief decide what to do with her. Because, enchanted or not, he obviously wasnt thinking clearly when it came to this particular witch. And there was too much at stake for him to make any more errors.
Paenther dressed quickly, in a clean pair of black leathers and a black silk shirt, buckling his knife belt around his waist.
The witch was no longer his concern.
If only, for one damned minute, he could stop wanting her.
CHAPTER 9
Skye stood within her prison cell deep below Feral House, once more dressed, her back against the wall. Her body quaked as she struggled for breath, fearing what Paenther would do when he returned, dreading Biriks retribution. How many times had Birik told her if she ever escaped him, hed make her long to returnor long to die?
If only she could escape them both. But where would she go?
Home. Shed go home.
Tears heated her eyes as the longing for her mother nearly overwhelmed her. But she didnt know how to find her. Her world had been so contained, so secure, she had no frame of reference within the human world to lead her back there. No idea what human town theyd lived near, or even what state. No way to contact the people shed loved.
And no way to know if they, too, had lost their souls and were now part of Inirs army.
She brushed at the tear that rolled down her cheek. It didnt matter because shed never be free. Escape was impossible. The Feral Warriors would never let her go. She wasnt sure theyd even let her live once shed told them what she knew about Birik and the Daemons.
The memory of what shed witnessed doubled her over until she thought she would be sick again. The terror of those poor people still pulsed through her blood, their screams ringing forever in her head. The foul smell of the Daemon himself felt permanently burned into her nose.
She pressed the back of her fist against her mouth. All the more reason she could never let Birik catch her again. He would only try to use her power to free more of those things. Even if he didnt get Paenther, too, hed search for another way until he succeeded in freeing more.
And shed die before she helped him set loose another of those monsters.
Slowly, she sank to the floor, cold from the bleakness of the future before her. Her old life was over. And she had none to replace it. She could never go back. Yet trapped in the Ferals prison, there was no way to go forward. Was this it, then?
She pressed her head back against the wall, tears falling freely as Paenthers words replayed in her head. Whether we choose to let evil live, or we fight to destroy it, defines our lives. Choose, Skye.
She snorted softly. She had no choices.
But shed made one, hadnt she? Shed freed Paenther and accidentally removed herself from Biriks control in the process. And it had been the right choice, no matter what happened to her.
When the Ferals came to interrogate her, shed tell them everything she knew. Maybe, in some small way, she could help them defeat Birik and his Daemons. Maybe in some small way she could make up for all the suffering shed caused with her gift.
Then, if they still felt they had to destroy her, so be it. What was one life when so many would die, when so many creatures had already died, because of her?
With a hard shudder, she pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms tight around them.
So be it.
But, dear Mother, I dont want to die.
As Paenther descended the stairs with Evangeline, Lyon opened the front door to the Shaman. To all appearances, the man who stepped into Feral House was little more than a boy, a fifteen-year-old dressed in costumea ruffled white shirt and black breeches from a bygone era. He nodded to Lyon, then looked up to meet Paenthers gaze, his eyes ancient in his youthful face.
The Shaman gave a brief nod. Warrior.
Shaman. A growl rumbled in Paenthers throat. Get me out of these shackles.
Ill do what I can.
When he reached the foyer, Paenther motioned the Shaman into the living room. Like every room in Feral House, the walls were covered in original oil paintings, most dating from the midnineteenth century.
While Paenther took a seat on one of the deeply cushioned chairs, the Shaman pulled up a footstool and took hold of one of Paenthers arms, pressing his slender fingers around the manacle. Closing his eyes, he began to chant, murmuring words under his breath from a language Paenther had heard him use before, one he himself didnt know. Minute after minute passed, long, tense minutes where Paenther forgot to breathe, his mind and body concentrating so hard on willing the Shamans magic to work.
When the Shaman opened his eyes and pressed his lips together unhappily, Paenther wanted to yell his fury.
The Shaman shook his head. Im sorry. Its strong, strong magic, warrior. Im going to have to do more research to see if I can find another way.
Paenther closed his eyes, wrestling down the fury inflamed by his frustration. He needed to be able to shift! As long as he wore these shackles, he remained a prisoner to the Mage.
He speared the Shaman with his gaze. The witch is in the prison. Lyon wants you to bind her magic.
A flash of venom tightened the Shamans mouth as he nodded. Like his own, the Shamans fate had long ago been decreed by a Mage attack. Hed been a youth at the time, and the attack had ended his growth into manhood. Though he was one of the oldest Therians alive, he looked like a young teen and always would.
Paenther rose and led the smaller man into the foyer, where he found Lyon waiting, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression grim as he eyed the manacles still on Paenthers wrists.
No luck. Paenthers tone was clipped.
Bring the witch to the war room as soon as the Shamans bound her.
Paenther nodded. Then, Roar? She needs to be someone elses concern. Shes still got her claws in me.
Lyon looked at him sharply. I thought you got yourself cleared.
I did. Thats why I know someone else has to see to her after this.
Lyon eyed him thoughtfully, then nodded.
Paenther led the Shaman down the long flight of stairs and through the underground chambers. When they reached the prison cell, Skye rose with that fluid grace of hers and faced him, her back straight, her chin raised. In her eyes he saw a mix of courage and hopelessness, as if she expected the worst but was prepared to face it all the same.
That errant tug she had on him had him wanting to reach out to her, to reassure her nothing bad was going to happen to her. But he couldnt reassure her even if he wanted to. Mage witches didnt live long in Feral House. For good reason.
Shes not tied. The Shaman stepped back. Im not going near her unless shes tied.
Skye pressed her lips together and turned her head. Paenther opened the cell and grabbed one of the lengths of rope hed originally intended to stake her out with. Skye put her hands behind her back, allowing him to tie her without effort.
As he looped the rope around her wrists, his body began to react to her nearness as it always did, rising, hardening as if he hadnt just jerked himself off. The cat in him wanted to rub its cheek against her soft hair, to rub his body against her softer curves. His hands itched to slide over the parts of her only his eyes had ever touched.