Her Warriors (7 page)

Colors continued to swirl around Tom like an
aura for a few minutes as Bettina switched back to some foreign
tongue Beau could not decipher. She was chanting softly as the
power crested and then subsided, leaving his knees feeling like wet
noodles.

The High Priestess let go of his hand and
stepped back, her head dropping toward her chest for a moment as
her eyes closed. Beau wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now,
but sitting down sounded like a really good option. Falling down
was a possibility. And passing out was also within the realm of
probability. He felt truly awful. Drained. Wrung out like a wet
dish rag.

Beau grasped the rail at the foot of Tom’s
bed with his free hand, using it to support him on one side as
Jacki continued to hold his other hand. He noticed that she also
still held one of Geir’s hands, but surprisingly, his tiger didn’t
want to roar about it. Normally, the time between discovery of
one’s mate and the actual claiming, was rough. The slightest thing
had been known to start terrible battles, and even a war or two, in
ancient times.

At the very least, Beau had prepared himself
for the idea that he might be a little overly possessive of Jacki
until he could solidify the bond. Maybe being drained of most of
his energy by the High Priestess had mellowed his reaction. If so,
Beau was grateful for the reprieve. His father had warned him many
times that Beau’s unusually volatile temper could get him into
serious trouble—especially when and if he finally found a mate.

Well, he’d found her now, but his temper
wasn’t riding him the way it usually did. It was odd, really. Beau
often had to work hard at keeping his temper in check. His family
had gotten used to his quirks over the years, and they knew when
not to poke the tiger. Most of his military colleagues had learned
the same, though some had learned it the hard way. But now, when
his temper should probably be the most out of control…it
just…wasn’t. In fact, he felt calmer now than he had in a long
time. It was like just knowing that Jacki existed, and was here
with him, was enough. Well…almost enough.

The tiger and the man both wanted to pounce
on her and make love to her long into the night. They wanted to
hole up in a room with her for days and try every position in the
Kama Sutra—and some that hadn’t been invented yet. But the tiger
wasn’t interested in biting Geir’s hand off for daring to touch his
mate…which really was decidedly odd.

“Are you two okay?” Jacki squeezed his hand
as the High Priestess spoke, lifting her head.

“I’m okay,” Beau answered, though his voice
felt and sounded weak. Geir merely nodded. “How is Tom? Did we do
it?”

Bettina bent over Tom to examine him. When
she lifted one of his eyelids with her finger, Beau caught a
glimpse of that same golden glow that had been around his body, now
shining out through his eyes. Beau almost took a step back in
surprise, but his legs still didn’t want to cooperate with him.

Bettina rose and smiled. The older lady
really did have a beautiful smile. Beau felt his heart lift, along
with his mood.

“We’ve protected him well,” she announced.
“The drain on his personal power is stopped for now. He will get no
worse before we have a chance to break the connection once and for
all. You’ve all done very well. Thank you for your help and energy.
I think the men should probably rest now, don’t you, Jacki? Maybe
you could help them find a place to sit. And you should probably
stay with them for a little while, just to keep an eye on them.
I’ll sit with Tom and plan our next move. I’ll meet you in the
kitchen in an hour, all right?”

Bettina’s smile invited no objection, but
Beau figured Jacki probably needed a little break too. She looked a
lot better than he felt, but he wanted to be certain she was
feeling no ill effects from what they had just done before he let
her go off with Bettina to plan more magic. If this was only a
small
spell, he almost hated to see what they would be doing
tomorrow.

Geir walked out from behind the head of the
bed and stumbled a bit. Jacki let go of his hand, which she had
still been holding, and moved under his shoulder, putting her arm
around him, supporting him. The two of them stepped closer to Beau,
and he finally let go of the foot rail of Tom’s bed, realizing too
late that it had been holding him up.

Much to his chagrin, Jacki put her other arm
around his waist and the three of them stumbled toward the door.
Jacki was supporting the two males—one on either side of her
womanly form. How embarrassing.

Geir tried to be prosaic about his own
weakness, but the truth was he felt humiliated that Jacki had to
hold him up. Beau too. They made slow progress down the hall and
only got as far as the living room couch before all three of them
collapsed onto the soft, overstuffed cushions. Luckily the thing
was built on the large side and fit all of them comfortably. Geir
didn’t think he would be able to move under his own power anytime
soon.

“I’m sorry, Jacki. Whatever you ladies did
in there, it seems to have unmanned me,” he admitted. “I feel like
a kitten who’s just been through a wild ride in a washing
machine.”

Beau laughed at that description. “Good one.
I think I was on the same ride with you, Master G.”

Geir wondered at the shortening of his name.
Nobody had ever done that before and it felt…kind of nice. It was
nice to know the other tiger felt comfortable enough to give Geir a
nickname. Most others shifters were either afraid of him or in awe
of his abilities. Few were comfortable in his presence and Geir had
always found it difficult to make friends. The idea that Beau of
the nasty temper was relaxed enough with him to shorten his name
was surprising. And a little suspicious…

It had to mean something. But what?

Many strange and wondrous things had
happened of late, and Geir had been trying to analyze events and
make connections. Perhaps this was another of those strange and
wondrous events that would come to mean something much more
profound in the coming days? Geir didn’t know, but it certainly was
a small thing that meant a lot to him right now.

“He looked better, didn’t he?” Jacki said,
sitting between the men. Geir looked at her, seeing the fearful
hope on her face. He reached down and took one of her hands in both
of his, rubbing her soft skin with a light, hopefully comforting,
touch.

“He did look better,” Geir told her. “The
glow of power you infused into his being agreed with him. Even I
could see that.”

“But will it be enough?” She bit her lip as
she turned to look into his eyes and he couldn’t help himself.

Geir bent and kissed her, tugging that poor,
abused lip between his own, laving it with his tongue and
then…taking the kiss deeper. His chest began to rumble and she
pulled away.

The first thing he saw was Beau’s murderous
expression.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Beau’s famous temper showed in the flare of his eyes, even if he
was too weak to do much more than yell at Geir.

“It’s not what you think. Didn’t you hear
the purr? She’s my mate,” Geir said lightly, feeling both wonder
and pride in the words. To have a mate was a miracle. To have such
a mate as Jacki, was an even more wondrous thing. She was
amazing.

“She can’t be your mate, G,” Beau’s tone was
low and deadly, with a hint of the tiger in it, but he didn’t scare
Geir.

“Why not?” he challenged right back.

“Because she’s my mate, dickhead.”

“What?” Geir was nonplussed. How could this
be? “I don’t get it.”

Jacki stood abruptly, her turmoil clear in
every line of her body. Her hands clenched at her sides, she turned
to face them.

“I don’t understand it either. I made you
both purr and…” she trailed off, srunching her eyes closed as if
she couldn’t stand to look at them anymore. Geir fell silent.

“You did what now?” Beau demanded,
apparently as confused as he was angry.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” She opened her
eyes and pinned Beau with a look Geir was glad he wasn’t on the
other end of. She was pissed. And confused. “Here I thought lions
were dense. Dammit, I didn’t ask for any of this!” She spun on her
heel and stormed out. Geir would have gone after her, but he
couldn’t move.

“Well, what the fuck?” Beau asked in a tired
voice.

Geir looked over at his rival on the other
end of the couch. He looked as bad as Geir felt. The drain of his
energy was really hitting him now and unconsciousness seemed to be
approaching rapidly.

“I’m sorry, Beau, but I won’t give her up,”
Geir made his stance clear even as his eyes started to close.

“Neither will I, G-man, so we’re going to
have to beat the shit out of each other to find out who wins,” Beau
replied. “Tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Tomorrow,” Geir agreed, fading into
the grayness that waited for him.

The next morning, Geir woke before his rival
and left the living room. He stopped in his own room for a shower
and a change of clothes, then headed out to find Jacki. The
challenge would have to be settled before they could move on. Until
the mate challenge was over, nothing else could proceed for either
of the two men involved.

Ideally, Jacki could stop the challenge
fight by simply stating her preference, but she was nowhere to be
found. Neither was the High Priestess. Geir had looked in on Tom
and found his condition unchanged. After that, Geir had made a
quick search of the house and premises and couldn’t locate either
of the women.

He decided to go to the dojo and warm up
before facing his rival. Geir wasn’t foolish enough to
underestimate his opponent. Beau was an experienced, professional
soldier, who had years of combat experience. He would not be easily
defeated. At least Geir hoped he would put up a damn good fight.
Geir wanted a chance to pummel something—preferably Beau’s face—to
help work out some of his frustration with the entire
situation.

Why couldn’t something in his life go
easily, just for once? Why must every last thing be a struggle?
Something as profound and important as mating shouldn’t be left up
to chance—or the bloody battle that was about to ensue between two
pretty evenly matched tiger shifters. The claws would be out and no
holds barred.

Geir stretched his muscles, warming up in
the dojo. He would be ready when Beau appeared. Wearing only the
loose, but stretchy shorts he habitually trained in, Geir was as
prepared as he was going to be when the door to the dojo opened and
shut. Beau emerged out of the darkness by the doorway, dressed
similarly. The brief outfit would allow them to change into the
painful half-human, half-tiger battle form, or simply remain human.
They could even go completely tiger and the shorts would probably
go with them.

In the old days, these sorts of challenges
were often done in the nude, but modern fabrics had allowed
shifters at least some protection for their private parts when
fighting on two legs. Their human skin was their most vulnerable
form, and it was smart to protect the most vulnerable areas a
little when they could.

“Have you seen her yet today?” Beau asked,
his voice low, laced with rage as he stalked forward.

“No. She and the High Priestess were gone
when I woke,” Geir answered.

“Then I guess we do this. I won’t give up my
claim to her,” Beau nearly growled the words, and Geir felt the
same way.

Geir studied his opponent. Beau’s tiger was
much closer to the surface than most. It would lend him its great
strength even while in human form. This would be quite a
battle.

Geir wasn’t so conceited as to think that
merely because he had earned the title of Master, that he could not
be defeated. It was a teaching of his order that there was always
someone or something cleverer than yourself. Conceit was the
predecessor to defeat.

“I won’t give her up either,” Geir said
firmly, standing opposite Beau on the matted floor.

The barn was huge and had been specially
designed with a large, open, center area that was lined with mats,
for just this purpose. A class of twenty would fit in the space
comfortably. It would be more than adequate for a battle between
two warriors.

There was no order to begin. There was no
ritual bow. No words of commencement.

No, this was a battle of the oldest and most
sacred kind. There were no real rules, except that each fighter
follow his heart. If his heart demanded he fight for his mate, then
he would do so to the best of his ability, using all his gifts and
skills. If, however, his heart wasn’t really interested in the
woman in question, such a man would have a duty to withdraw.

Mating wasn’t a game. It was a calling. A
special bond gifted by the Goddess. One did not—and should not—take
it lightly. It was serious business, with serious consequences for
those who would meddle with fate.

Beau charged and Geir sidestepped, using
Beau’s momentum against him in a classic move. Had Beau been
overcome by his baser instincts into making such a rookie move, or
was he playing some deeper game? Was he testing Geir’s instincts
and reaction times? Or was he trying to lull Geir into
overconfidence?

Geir was no green recruit to fall for such a
trick. Instead of waiting to see what Beau would pull next, Geir
went on the offensive. He pushed Beau back, and back again, fists
and feet flying in an acrobatic display. He threw some of his best
moves at him, but Beau countered or avoided every one. Geir was
impressed, but he hadn’t shown Beau his full bag of tricks yet. Far
from it.

The battle progressed, each man testing the
other and getting in a few blows here and there. The surprising
result, as the battle raged between them, was that they were pretty
evenly matched. Geir was impressed again and again by Beau’s
creative moves and counterstrikes. He had a totally unique style
that meshed well with Geir’s own. If this situation weren’t so
serious, Geir would have wanted to pause and examine some of the
lightning fast punches and kicks that came at him in innovative
ways.